A Touch Bittersweet

by Carter Ashby

  “Then maybe you shouldn’t say it,” she said, turning and looking him dead in the eyes.

  Frank held her stare for a long moment. Then he shrugged. “Fine. Logan, what’s the plan?”

  Logan nodded. Straight to it, just how he liked. “I’m staying. Helping Maggie with her house. Spending more time with my family.”

  Frank looked annoyed. “Okay. When are you going back to Montana?”

  “I’m not sure if I’m ever going back to Montana.”

  Frank huffed and shook his head. “This ain’t your home, boy.”

  Logan took in a slow breath and thought through how he wanted to do this. He knew he didn’t want to listen to the voice of the scared little boy inside of him that was telling him to run and hide. He knew he didn’t want to fight. And he didn’t want to upset his mom. All he could think to say was, “I get how you feel about me. You can keep feeling that way if you want, but this is my home, now.”

  “Why? Because you’re moving in on your brother’s wife?”

  Logan let the impact hit and fade like a punch to the chest. “Yeah, something like that.”

  “You ought to be ashamed.”

  He thought of Maggie and smiled, because how could you think of Maggie and do anything else. “Well, I’m not, whether I ought to be or not. You got anything else you wanna say, best put it on the table, now. Because after this, I’m done putting up with it.”

  “That a threat?”

  “Of course not. I’m just not going to have these conversations with you anymore. This is your problem, not mine.”

  “You’re right. You are my problem. You’ve always been my problem. I’ve tried being nice about this thing, but I ain’t gonna bother no more. You got everyone siding with you, thinking you’re some victim. But you’re no good, and if I’m the only one who can see that, then I’m damn sure not going to keep quiet about it. What kind of man are you? Abandoning your family, only showing back up when your mother is dying. Going after a nice widow like Maggie. Ingratiating yourself to her kids so you can weasel your way into her home? Shame on you.”

  Logan heard the voice in his head that wondered if Frank might be right. The voice that had kept him in a state of self-doubt his whole life. All he could do was ignore it. “Have you said your peace?” he asked.

  “Yeah. What do you mean to do about it?”

  “Nothing,” Logan said. “I’m gonna finish my breakfast, then go help Maggie with her house.”

  Frank got up and walked away.

  When he was gone, Logan went round the bar and held his mother as she cried quietly into his chest. She apologized some more, and he let her know it was no longer necessary. After she calmed, he helped her into the living room to settle in with the movie she’d been wanting to watch.

  His breakfast felt like it was burning a hole in his stomach. He wasn’t shaking, but he felt shaky. What a rough morning. Ups and downs. And Maggie. It had all started with Maggie. He found he wanted it to end with Maggie, too.

  Logan got in his truck and drove.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  THEY RIPPED OUT the countertops and cabinets…all had to be replaced. Maggie tore out the cabinets while Logan hauled them to the dumpster. It didn’t take long. Never took as long to tear something down as it did to build it up.

  Logan came back in after hauling out the last of the scraps. He took up a broom and started cleaning up.

  “I’m headed to the store to pick out new cabinets,” she said to him. “I had some on order, but it fell through. I want to make sure to get some ordered quickly, and then get upstairs and finish out the bedrooms. Because then it’ll be ready to move in to.”

  Her heart raced as she said it. Lots of reasons why. The main one was she was on the verge of a conversation she wasn’t sure they were ready for. She took a breath and asked, “Do you want to come with me and help me pick them out?”

  He swept some debris into a dust pan and dumped it into the garbage can. “Sure. Not sure how much help I’ll be.”

  “It’s okay. I’d like to have your opinion.”

  He dropped the dustpan next to the broom and wiped his hands on the thighs of his jeans. “I’m always happy for more time with you. You know that.”

  She smiled. He seemed distant. He’d come here and gotten straight to work. No talking. No touching.

  It wouldn’t be a problem if she understood. She thought back to seeing him on the porch of his mother’s house. How cozy they looked. But how red-eyed. She’d written it off to the cold. But maybe they’d been having a heart-to-heart. “How’s your mom?” Maggie asked, not hiding the fact that she was fishing for information.

  He stared, for a moment. “Good. She’s good.”

  “Did you two have a nice talk?”

  He swallowed, nodded, and looked away.

  And then it happened. Out of nowhere, something she’d never seen on his face before. A flash of pain, a welling of tears. She moved toward him and held out her arms. He fell right into them, dropped his head on her shoulders, and clung to her. Maggie’s doubt vanished in the wake of an overwhelming feeling of love. She held him and knew he was crying only by the occasional sharp intake of breath and the tension in his body and the heat of tears on her neck.

  She held him, cupped the back of his head like she would a small child. Whispered, “It’s okay,” to him now and then. Because it was okay. Everything was okay. Everything was painful and beautiful and frightening and peaceful and…okay.

  After a few minutes, she felt his body relax and his grip loosen. He stood and immediately turned away, dragging the back of his wrist over his eyes. He walked to the nearest wall in the living room, rested his back against it, and slid to the floor like an angsty teenager. He hugged his knees and rested his forehead on his arms.

  Maggie sat next to him and rubbed slow circles on his back. “Rough talk this morning?”

  He nodded.

  “Tell me about it?”

  He was quiet. She wasn’t sure if he would talk. Most men didn’t, in her experience. He kept his head down but finally said, “She apologized to me.”

  “Apologized? What for?”

  “For choosing Frank over me all those years.” And then his body and hands tensed up again. He wasn’t going to show her his face while he was on the verge of tears. He hid it like it was shameful. He made himself quiet and tight and as invisible as possible…but that was okay. Because at least he was letting her be here for him.

  When he relaxed, she asked him, “Do you blame her?”

  “I don’t know,” he said, his voice sounding strong but tired. “I never thought of it. But I guess I did. Of course I forgive her. I just never expected her to acknowledge that, you know?” He tilted his head to the side and looked at her.

  “Yeah,” Maggie said, stroking his cheek. “She’s a mom, though. She carried that with her a long time.”

  “She did the best she could.”

  “But it wasn’t always good enough, was it?”

  He slowly sat up, let his legs sprawl out in front of him, and leaned back against the wall. “No. But I never thought of blaming her. I was angry at her sometimes. I didn’t understand why she acted like everything was okay. I focused all my hate and anger on Frank. Because, of course, he focused all his hate and anger on me.”

  “Heavy conversation.”

  “Yeah,” he said with a sigh. “Broke my heart and put it back together all in one morning. Then I had to deal with Frank, again. And it makes me sick to my stomach to know that if I stay here, I’ll always have to deal with Frank.”

  If he stays here, Maggie thought. Hopeful. She didn’t like the if. “Do me a favor,” she said.

  “Sure.”

  “Next time you’re playing catch with Nate, ask him how he dealt with Chad Daniels.”

  “Whose Chad Daniels?”

  “Just ask him, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  They sat side-by-side, quietly for a few minutes. He reached over
and took her hand. She leaned her head on his shoulder.

  And she felt it.

  That thing.

  That first moment of wanting to say “I love you” to someone. She remembered it with Josh. They were seventeen, walking out of the movie theater. He was holding the car door open for her. She turned and just happened to look up at him. Just happened to really see him for a moment. And that need filled her out of nowhere. Without thinking, she’d said the words. He’d responded by slamming the door shut, grabbing her into his arms, and laying the hottest kiss ever on her lips.

  She sat up and looked at Logan to make sure she was feeling what she thought she was feeling. He smiled sadly back at her. Tear streaks down his cheeks. A three-day-old beard he still hadn’t shaved.

  Yes. This was it. Her mouth fell open as though determined to say it whether she was ready or not.

  But she was older, now. More careful. So she did something else, instead. She swung her leg over his lap, straddled him, and kissed him. She could love him like this. Not with words—not yet. Not while he was using if in his sentences.

  She kissed him openly, and he wrapped his arms around her and moved against her. They moved together, rocking and kissing for way too long. They had chores to do, after all. A house to prepare. A hardware store to visit. But they indulged in pure, teenage making out until they were both covered in a light sheen of sweat and on the verge of ecstasy.

  Maggie forced herself to slow down and ease back. She opened her eyes as he opened his, and smiled at his mussed hair and swollen lips. “More,” he whispered.

  “Later. We’ve got things to do.”

  He grabbed her hips and pulled her tightly against him and groaned.

  She couldn’t blame him; she was right there with him. He was fitted against her like he was made for her. She gripped his shoulders and moved, ever so slightly, against him. His eyes went black as he stared at her lips. She rocked again. Two, maybe three more movements was all she would need. She moved again and found a slow, deep rhythm. He bit his bottom lip and moaned softly. She was panting, gasping now, on the verge. His fingertips dug into her hips. She started to lose focus, her eyes rolling shut against the wave of heat coursing through her. “Oh, God,” she cried, just before she reached the zenith of pleasure and broke in his arms.

  She was still throbbing with release when she found herself flat on her back, pants being pulled off, and then him on top of her like an animal taking his own release within mere seconds of entering her. He collapsed on top of her. “Now,” he said between breaths, “we can…go shopping…for cabinets.”

  She laughed and hugged him with her arms and legs. “I love you,” she said on the exhale after her laughter died down. “Now, get off of me so we can accomplish something before the kids get home.”

  He got off of her quickly and sat back on his knees to fasten his pants. But he was looking at her funny.

  She pulled on her underwear and pants before she noticed how he was frowning at her. “What’s up?” she said.

  “Nothing,” he said, looking away.

  She thought back to the past three minutes, because up until then, everything had been fine. That’s when it hit her. Those words…they’d slipped out. She’d gone and let her guard down, and now they were out there. “Oh. God. I’m so sorry, I wasn’t thinking.”

  He stared into her eyes.

  “Honestly, Logan, let’s just forget about it, okay?”

  He swallowed. Looked down at the floor. His brow furrowed. “What is with this day?”

  It tripped her the wrong direction. “Yeah. Must be rough to receive apologies and love all in one day.”

  He looked up at her, hurt.

  “I said I was sorry. I wasn’t thinking. It just came out. You don’t have to humiliate me like this,” she said.

  “How am I humiliating you?”

  “You’re looking at me like I just…stabbed you in the foot or something. All I did was tell you I love you, and I didn’t even mean it. I don’t love you. I’m not sure I even like you that much.”

  He stood up, his eyes never leaving hers. “Good,” he said. “Because I don’t love you, either.”

  Her chest tightened. “Fine. Because I definitely don’t want you to move in with me.”

  “Fine. I don’t want to marry you. Or be a father to your kids. I don’t want to fix up this house and put a fence out back for Wolf. I don’t want to take Nate to Little League practice. I don’t want to cook dinner with you on our new granite countertops. I don’t want any of that.”

  She felt tears flowing, but no longer out of anger or sadness. “I don’t want you to be the father of my children. I don’t want you to dig me a flowerbed in the backyard, where I can grow all my kitchen herbs. I don’t want you to take long, hot soaks in bubble baths with me every night.”

  He moved toward her. “I don’t want to travel with you and see the world. I don’t want to fall asleep in cool sheets with your naked body against me every night. I don’t want to grow old with you in rocking chairs on the front porch.”

  “Me neither,” she said, losing her breath now that he stood right in front of her, his heat close enough to feel. “I don’t want any of that with you.”

  “Glad we’re on the same page,” he said as he trailed his fingertips along her jaw. He kissed her lightly on the lips and then hugged her. “Let’s go pick out those granite countertops.”

  “Quartz,” she whispered.

  “Granite is prettier.”

  “Quartz is more durable.”

  “Are you at least open to the option?”

  “No.”

  He chuckled, then stepped back, took her by the hand, and led her out to his truck.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  THAT EVENING, MAGGIE felt heavy in her heart about Josh. That second grieving she and Logan had talked about. She picked some wildflowers from Eleanor’s garden and determined to go to Josh’s grave site for just a little while. Logan asked if she wanted his company, and she thanked him but said no. He agreed to look after the kids, and was running around the yard with Izzie on his shoulders and Gracie chasing them with a squirt gun when she pulled out of the driveway.

  She drove to the veteran’s memorial cemetery and found Josh’s stone with ease. She sat next to it and laid the flowers on top. Kissed her fingertips and touched the stone. “You’ll never believe how things have worked out,” she said.

  She closed her eyes as a cool breeze blew. Wherever Josh was, he slept peacefully. She knew this was a one-sided conversation. And yet, she always swore she could feel him, somehow. There with her.

  “So I met your brother,” she said. “Which I told you a few weeks ago. And he’s cool. I guess, it kind of looks like he and I are going to partner up. Is that weird?”

  She laughed at herself. “Of course it’s weird. But I never would have believed it. That I could love someone who wasn’t you. I still love you and always will. I don’t know how you would feel about this situation. But I kind of think there are some good things you’d like. For one thing, your brother’s relationship with his family is healing. And he’s great with the kids. He had nothing but respect for you and me. You loved him. You loved me. So maybe you would be happy for us…that we’re going to take care of each other and the kids.”

  She felt a few errant tears slide down her cheeks.

  “Hey,” said a male voice.

  Maggie jumped and turned to find David standing a couple yards away. He was in jeans, today, and a button-down. Jeans were unusual. He typically dressed in nice slacks and often wore a tie. “What are you doing here?” She asked.

  He shook his head and looked up at the sky. “I saw your car parked over there as I was driving down the road.”

  “Still doesn’t answer my question.”

  “Yeah? Well, I don’t have a good answer. It was an impulse. Haven’t seen you in a few days. But this is your time with Josh, so I’ll go.”

  “It’s okay,” she said, standi
ng and brushing the grass off her jeans. “I was about to leave. You can walk me to the car.”

  He fell in next to her and didn’t speak until they reached the parking lot. “Could we grab a drink?” He asked.

  The light was dimming, but now that she was facing him she could see him more clearly. He had dark circles under bloodshot eyes. His clothes hung a little too loosely from his bones. Was this because of her? “I’m sorry, David, I really gotta get back to the kids.”

  He swallowed and looked away. “Sure. Maybe some other time.”

  “Maybe.”

  He let out a bitter laugh. “We can’t even be friends, now?”

  “I can. Can you?”

  “Sure, I can.”

  “I would like that, David.”

  “So let’s have coffee tomorrow, then?”

  She didn’t know what to say to him. “You really want to hang out? As friends?”

  “Yes. That’s all I want.”

  There was only one way to find out. “Okay. I’ll have a beer with you now, then.”

  They agreed to meet at Cask 42, each driving separate vehicles. Inside was fairly quiet. They took a table and ordered a beer each. Just one, Maggie told him. Of course, he told her.

  “How’s the house coming along?” He asked.

  “Beautifully. Installing the cabinets in the kitchen next week. We’ll probably be ready to move in the week after that.”

  “You and the kids?”

  “Of course,” she said with a laugh. “They’re pretty smart, but I’m still not quite prepared to turn them loose in the world.”

  “Yeah,” he said with a laugh. “I guess, I was just wondering if you’d decided on moving in with, you know, Logan.”

  This was why she’d said no to a beer in the first place. Because yes, they could be friends. But not right now. Not while he was still hung up on her. “I think that’s a ways down the road,” she said.

  He shrugged and sipped his beer. “I’m thinking of asking Nancy Pruitt out.”

  “Do it. She’s gorgeous and smart and a great nurse.”

  He looked at her like she’d just stabbed him in the chest. “You wouldn’t even care, would you?”