Tailspin (Better Than You) (14 page)

              Logan asks questions one after the other, about me, about Joshua and Emily, about living with them and taking care of them and everything except for what happened to my parents. But she’s just saved that one for last. “How did they die?”

              It’s obvious we’d come around to this question at some point, but I still feel unprepared. I want to explain everything to her; how Dad used to surprise Mom with flowers and reservations, how we used to send them off like they were the teenagers and we were the parents. The night they died is burned into my mind, as clear as if it was a movie I just watched the day before. I can hear Heather’s annoyed voice, Emily’s dramatic departure, Joshua’s whines for Mom. I can feel how annoyed I was, and then how worried, and then how scared and angry and confused.

              So I tell her a condensed version of the night my life changed forever. That’s when I realize that things have changed even since then. What I thought would be the end has only been the beginning, leading me here to this moment, watching the wind blow Logan’s hair across her face. All of the events of the past three years have brought me to this moment, and I can’t say that it feels like the end. It definitely doesn’t. What kind of beginning it will turn out to be, I’m not sure.

              “God, Nathan,” she whispers when I’m finished, her eyes glassy and soft, concerned for me.

              “Joshua was nine, Emily was seventeen. I inherited two kids and two businesses at the age of twenty. I, uh, dropped out of school,”
but then went to police academy,
I want to tell her, but instead say, “started working at the bar to help with the bills. When Emily graduated, she got a job, even though I hate that she has to bartend. We have enough money from the life insurance to cover the mortgage and house bills, but there’s still so much else to pay for. Car payments, car insurance, health insurance, food, school supplies. Twelve year olds are expensive, believe it or not.” It’s true they’re expensive, but we’re doing just fine with what I’m making from the bar and working for the police department. But this lie is so much easier to believe than the,
I’ve got everything covered,
truth. “Sorry to dump all of that on you,” I say, once I realize I’ve been rambling.

              “Please, it’s fine,” she says and grabs my hand. Their soft and warm, comforting. It’s another time where she’s initiated touch. I can’t help but wonder what it means, if it means anything at all. “I’m glad you did.” She smiles up at me through her tears.

              “Maybe you’ll tell me your story one day.”

              She shrugs her shoulders and looks away.
Damn it.
“Maybe,” she says, but I know it’s just to appease me. I have a feeling I will never get more of her than I’m getting now.

              I pull her attention back to me with my fingers on her chin. Just a light touch. “At least tell me why your mom named you Logan,” I demand.

              “I have no idea,” she says quickly. I don’t know if I believe her. “I swear,” she continues. “I like to think it was my dad’s name but I really have no clue. Anyways, it was probably just her way of reminding me every day that she wanted a boy but got a girl instead.”

              “It probably was your dad’s name.”

              “Speaking of names, how did Emily know mine?”

              “She,” I hesitate. I don’t want to freak her out. “Um, well, I told her about you. I mean, about what happened that night. At the party. We’re really close and she knew I was upset so we talked.”

              Logan snorts unexpectedly. “Great. She probably thinks I’m pathetic.”

              I shake my head. “She’s not like that. Judgmental, I mean. She may act catty and superficial sometimes but she’s really not like most girls.”

              She pushes her lips out. It looks like she’s teasing me. It
feels
like she’s teasing me. “What are most girls like?”

              “Catty, superficial, annoying.” I laugh at the look on her face, but then sober when her smile falls into a frown. If only I could hear her thoughts. If only she’d tell me them.

              “Do you, um, have a girlfriend?” she asks shyly. It surprises me. Not the question, but the way she’s asked it. Like she cares about the answer. As if she’ll be upset if I answer
Yes, yes I do.
I’m tempted to do just that, to get a reaction out of her, but I don’t want to play games. If and
when
I get a reaction from her, it’ll be from something entirely different.

              I shake my head, watch a seagull fly by. “No. I was dating this girl Heather for a while, but then the whole thing with my parents happened and things got really hard...” I take a breath and continue. “We ended on good terms. She lives somewhere in Tampa, I think. Engaged and stuff.”

              It’s a minute before she responds, busy pulling her finger through the sand and drawing shapes she crosses out before I can see what they are. “Does that bother you?”

              “It did. At first,” I say honestly. “But now,” I let my eyes roam over the smooth skin of her face, her tangled, windblown hair, her long neck and small shoulders and add, “Not so much.”

              A flicker of a smile crosses her lips, but it’s gone a second after it appears. “That’s good,” she says.

              “Anyways,” I say, changing the suddenly awkward subject. “We should probably get back. I gotta take Joshua to school.”

              “Right. Of course.”

              I stand slowly, unwilling to put this whole morning behind us. It’s the first time where it’s just been us; no bar, no Danny, no interruptions. Even though I don’t know her any better than I did before, something’s shifted. After brushing the sand off my hands, I reach out to help her stand, and she grabs on tightly. By some stroke of luck, bad on her end but good on mine, the sand gives out from underneath her and she slips into my chest. Instinctively, my hands grab her waist and I’m reminded of the way we met, in a position almost identical to this. So much has changed, but the way Logan looks up at me, eyes wide and uncertain but hopeful, is the same. It’s as if she’s waiting for something that neither one of us knows will happen.

              The moment’s gone as suddenly as it happened as she pushes away and smiles a practiced smile at me. “Ready?” she asks, but her voice is shaky, breathy.

              I clear my throat, run my hands through my hair. Slow my racing mind. “Yeah.”

              Once in the car, we don’t speak. It’s not uncomfortable but it’s tense. I can feel her eyes shift over my face every so often, but I don’t turn to meet them. I don’t stop to wonder what she’s thinking. I’m hoping she’ll just ask whatever’s on her mind, because I’d tell her anything right now. But she doesn’t ask any questions, much less say a word. By the time I pull up to the house, we’re strangers again, back to a place between nothing and something.

              “You wanna wait in here while I grab Joshua?” I ask. She hesitates, her eyes flitting between me and the house. There’s something in there she wants. “We’ll just be a minute.”

              “Uh, sure,” she finally agrees. But it hits me that this is a bad idea, bringing her around Joshua. I don’t know how she’ll react to a kid like him. He doesn’t have much of a filter, likes to say weird things to get a reaction out of people. It might be an attention seeking mechanism or it might just be his personality, I’m not sure, but as I open the front door and call his name, I can’t help but worry that Logan will freak out.

              “Joshua, hury up! We’re gunna be late!” I call out after he hasn’t answered. I can hear his footsteps running all over the second floor, like he’s just been sitting around and is finally getting ready. Finally, he bounds down the stairs, his backpack bouncing above his head. It’s almost bigger than him. It makes me smile. I ruffle his hair. “What’s up with your hair, dude?”

              He swats my hand away. “Cut it out, Nathan. I didn’t have time.”

              Pulling him into a headlock, I laugh. “You sound like a girl.”
              “Stop! You’ll make it worse!” he yells with a laugh. I let him go and he shoves me, but his backpack shifts to the side and nearly pulls him with it. It’s probably the funniest thing I have ever seen, but I try not to laugh. I remember how terrible middle school was.

              “Listen,” I say, placing a hand on his small shoulder. He looks up at me with big blue eyes, completely focused and ready for what I have to say. “I have a friend in the car. Her name is Logan and she’s really special to me, so I need you to go easy on her, alright?”

              “I don’t know what you mean,” he says innocently. If I didn’t know him so well, I’d believe his act. But I do.

              “Seriously, J. She’s really…shy, and she probably won’t take well to you bugging her.”

              “Alright, alright. I’ll play nice.” He smiles this smile at me, and I know he’s just blowing smoke up my ass. I roll my eyes as he walks to the car. Then I start to jog after him to make sure he really doesn’t say anything too crazy. I hear Joshua ask, “Who are you?” as I open the door.

              Logan’s eyes meet mine in a silent plea. “I’m, uh-”

              “Don’t listen to him,” I tell her. “He knows who you are.”

              Joshua’s silent as I back the car out of the driveway, and I’m thinking that maybe that’ll be the end of it. But then he opens his mouth once we’re on the road. “So, Logan. How long will you be staying with us?”

              I glance over at Logan and laugh. I can’t help it, but she looks seriously panicked. “Um, not long. Nathan’s helping me find an apartment,” she says stiffly.

              “She’ll stay as long as she needs to,” I add.

              “Do you know how to cook?” Joshua asks.

              “Yes?” She clears her throat. “I mean, yes. I do.”

              “Do you clean?”

              “Joshua,” I warn, glancing in the mirror at him. “That’s enough.”

              “What? I’m just asking questions,” he argues.

              Surprisingly, Logan responds to his question. “I
can
clean. I don’t like it much, though.”

              I can hear the smile in Joshua’s voice as he says, “Me either. I hate cleaning, but this guy refuses to take no for an answer.”

              I chuckle at his attitude. “We all do our share, buddy.”

              Logan’s body suddenly stiffens, her shoulders seemingly pinned to the chair and her breathing ragged. I glance at her as she shakes her head, as if trying to clear away a memory. I glance back at Joshua, who’s looking out the window and not at Logan. We’re almost to the school. Just a few more minutes. I don’t want Joshua to see her like this.

              Before the car’s even parked, Joshua’s door is open. “I’ll be here at three,” I yell as the door closes and he takes off, his backpack bouncing along behind him. A million thoughts and memories run through my mind as I watch him climb the stairs leading to the school’s entrance, mostly about how Mom and Dad will never get to see him grow up, how he’ll never hear their voices again or see them smile so lovingly at him. Instead, it’ll be me helping with homework and driving him to soccer practices. I’m the one that he’s going to look up to and I’m the one he’ll have expectations of. Bringing the car back out onto the road, I can only hope that I’ll be able to meet every single one.

              “I have to run some errands,” I tell Logan, who’s back to being quiet. “You wanna tag along?”

              “Yeah, that’s fine,” she answers without meeting my eyes. It doesn’t sound fine, but I really do have things to do and I don’t trust her at the house. It’s not like I think she’ll steal things;
fuck,
I wish that was all it was, but I know that if I leave her alone she’ll inhale or swallow the first thing she can get her hands on. I want to believe that she doesn’t need it. I want to believe that being here with me is enough to keep her satisfied.

~~

              It’s been twenty minutes. It’s not a long time, but Logan’s in the car by herself and I can’t see her through the windows. I have this insane fear that I’ll walk outside and won’t find my car; that she’ll have left me to go find what she really wants.
Needs
. I don’t really know which one it is. 

              “How much longer will this take?” I ask the guy on the other side of the desk.

He glances up, pushes his glasses further down his nose. “Are you in a rush, Mr. Hawkins?”

His tone of voice annoys me. Is he insinuating I have nothing better to do with my time? If only he knew. “I am, actually. Is there any way we can do this another time?”

Sighing, he sits back, his bald head casting a glare straight into my eyes. His name plate reads Roger Finkel. What a funny name. “You’ll have to schedule another appointment. This can only be done with me and I’m a very busy man.” He takes his glasses off and begins wiping the lenses with his tie.

              “I don’t mind rescheduling,” I say politely.

              He pulls out his calendar and we figure out another date. Before he can even tell me to have a good day, which I doubt he was planning on, I’m up and walking to the glass sliding doors, already looking for my car before it’s even in sight. When I finally see it, I breath out a sigh of relief. But it’s obvious that Logan isn’t in it. The passenger seat is empty but the car is still on and I’m about to freak out because
where the fu
-

              And then I see her.

              Logan’s back is to me, her head tilted up at the sky, her shoulders rising and falling in a rhythmic movement. With her hair pulled up the way it is and her head at such an angle, it’s easy to imagine that I’m standing right behind her, my nose pressed into the flesh of her neck, breathing her in, healing her. Suddenly, I find myself walking towards her, hell bent on doing just what I’ve been imagining and wanting and needing all damn day. I’m almost to her, can reach out my arm and touch her, when she turns and walks straight into me, as if I’m not even here. Maybe I was never here; not to her.