Taste: A Love Story (38 page)

“Oh no, honey. This needs to happen right now. Harold, my boss, in case you’ve forgotten who he is, wants you down there like in the next couple of hours.”

Kara sighed. “Fine, I’ll go.”

“Good girl,” Olivia patronized. “Oh and you might want to put on the Jimmy Choos, maybe a trench coat. Yes, did I ever tell you about the time—”

“Good-bye, Olivia.” Kara cut her off.

Logan was on his porch when Kara arrived a few hours later. She hadn’t seen him sitting in the corner, but she heard his voice right before she knocked on the front door.

“After she left, we ate pizza every night for . . . it must have been two months. I turned eight that summer. I was watching something on TV after school one day and they were talking about how dinner—a meal—brings a family together.”

Kara froze. She was afraid if she moved he would stop talking.

“As clear as I can remember, that’s when I started cooking. I mean, I was only a kid, but I started giving my dad lists on loose-leaf paper. He thought it was just a phase I was going through. I started with frozen dinners and vegetables. I made canned soup and sandwiches. Kenna would set the table. I remember her insisting that the paper napkins be folded corner to corner and not in half. It was fancier that way, she would say. She was so damn cute. Pigtails and missing teeth. God, we were so young.” Logan smiled and Kara’s heart ached for all of them.

“Did you think it would bring her back?” Kara asked carefully and sat next to him on the porch swing.

“Easy, princess. I’m new at this delving into my feelings shit.”

She laughed.

“I think I may have at first, but it was really about making sure we were all okay without her. You know?”

Kara nodded and let him continue.

“I could never get my head around it as a kid. I don’t even get it now. My dad was out on the farm and she left during harvest. He was working eighteen-hour days. We were all at school. I remember because Jenny Nathan had cupcakes for her birthday. I got the frosting all down the front of my shirt and the school called home. No one answered. I didn’t care at the time, just wiped my hands on it and went on with my day, but I was seven. Makenna was five. She had half-day kindergarten and no one picked her up. She sat in the office until two when Garrett and I got out. We all walked home together.” Logan’s eyes started to fill and Kara thought she might die.

“Shit.” He quickly wiped his eyes. “I don’t think I’ve ever actually said this out loud.” He took a deep breath, turned to Kara and she willed herself to not let one shred of pity cross her face.

“Anyway, we walked home that day and the next day Dad told us she was gone. I guess she left a note.”

Kara couldn’t keep her tears back. They spilled down her cheeks. “What kind of person does that?”

Logan shook his head. “It’s been the four of us ever since. We each took on a role whether we knew we were doing it or not. Kenna has always managed the money, well not when she was five, but by the time she hit junior high, she was telling us how much money we had, when we needed to cut back, which coupons I needed to use at the grocery store.”

“What was Garrett’s job?” Kara asked, so happy that he was talking and letting some of this out.

“Garrett has always been man number two of the house. He’s the protector, fighter when necessary; he worked the farm with Dad while I went to school. He learned to speak Spanish in high school and at night courses after that, so he could manage a lot of our guys. Now, he pretty much runs the whole thing. He’s a pain in the ass. You think I’m bad? He’s an emotional misfit.”

Kara laughed.

“And then there’s you,” she said softly.

Logan nodded. “And then there’s me. The wife and mother.”

They both laughed.

“I’m sure Oprah would say I’m the caregiver. I made sure forms were signed, that we ate, and that Garrett didn’t wear the same underwear every day of the week.” Logan looked at her. “This is where we all do the collective sigh and say, ‘Oh, that poor family.’”

Kara shook her head, not quite sure she could speak. “I don’t think so. It seems like you’ve done fine without her. I mean you had to grow up pretty quickly, pick up some slack, but everyone has shit. Yours actually doesn’t seem that bad.” She smiled.

“Oh really?” The look on Logan’s face softened and he seemed so grateful for the break in what Kara was sure was painful. She loved him for telling her.

“Yes, really. I mean, sure you had some ‘stuff’ to deal with, I guess”—she rolled her eyes—“but I spent most of my childhood in junior assembly, cotillions, and ruffles. Lots of ruffles. I think it’s time for us to return to poor Kara Malendar, misfit to US Senator Patrick Malendar, gorgeous brother Grady, and lest we not forget, perpetually perfect and disappointed Bindi, mother extraordinaire.”

They both laughed as she stood and did a very deep curtsy. He pulled her into his lap and used his thumbs to wipe her tears.

“I’m so sorry. Nothing works without you, so here I go.” Logan held her face. Kara could feel his heart beating against hers. He let out an uneven breath and his eyes welled again. “I love you. Come on in, take whatever you want, it’s all yours anyway. Just please don’t let go.”

Kara kissed him, softly as if her lips could somehow caress away his hurt. She’d never known this kind of love. Sure it was romantic and she loved every inch of his body, but there was a need to protect and care for him that she didn’t recognize. She’d only recently discovered how to love herself, but she would need to make room for this too because her love for Logan was lie-down-on-the-tracks, take-a-bullet kind of love. He was the very best person with the most tender heart, and here he was handing it over to her. There were no words for what was coursing through her, so she just kept kissing him.

Logan pulled back. “Does this mean I’m forgiven?”

“It does.”

“Just like that, princess? This feels too easy.”

“Too easy?” She laughed. “I’m exhausted.”

“Really?” He stood up and pulled her into his arms. “Well, then we should get you to bed. Exhaustion is one of those things that you need to take care of right away.”

Kara smiled and kissed his neck. “Do you know a lot about exhaustion, farm boy?”

“You have no idea. I believe in working very hard.”

She laughed. “Wow, you and lines. It’s a talent.” She buried her face in his neck.

He backed through the door of his bedroom and she knew she had been fooling herself. When a man moves over a woman’s body the way Logan did, it was near impossible to stand in a room with him and pretend to be friendly. He loved her until she was once again panting his name, and then he made her a bologna sandwich with Miracle Whip, and they started all over again.

Kara woke up the next morning in Logan’s bed, but without Logan. She sat up with that startled sense she was supposed to be somewhere. What day was it? Sunday, it was Sunday. She lay back down and closed her eyes, remembering him and wanting more. She got up and put on one of his T-shirts. The house was quiet as she walked into the living room. God, she loved this house. She smelled the coffee and again wondered how she could love the smell of coffee so much, but not enjoy drinking it. She checked the kitchen—still no Logan. In the center of his small round dining table off the kitchen was a beautiful teapot. It seemed hand painted. Next to it was a delicate matching teacup. Kara lifted the lid of the pot and found hot tea. She closed her eyes.
Thank you, tea gods.
She poured a cup and stirred in one sugar with a dainty teaspoon she’d never seen.

She was starting to wonder if Logan had to go into the restaurant, when she noticed large dirt footprints. It was as if someone had tracked mud from where she was standing, out to the backyard. Maybe a pipe broke or something was wrong in his garden. Kara pushed through the back screen door.

She found him. He was sitting on the last swing of a three-swing, swing set. Coffee in hand, legs crossed in front of him. He smiled at her and Kara almost dropped the lovely teacup.

He said nothing, so she walked down the steps of his deck and took the swing next to him. She propped her feet out in front of her as she sipped her tea.

“New swing set?”

“Yup.”

“I like it.” Kara looked straight ahead, wondering what was going on, but at the same time enjoying the simplicity of sitting on a swing set with him. She reached out to one of the support pipes. “Feels pretty sturdy.”

“Had them cemented in.” Logan sipped his coffee.

Kara looked at him. “Pretty permanent.”

“Yup, this sucker’s not going anywhere.”

Kara’s heart began pounding in her chest. She finished her tea and set the teacup in the sand to the side of them. She was afraid to get up, afraid to change anything.

Logan dropped his cup too and held his hand out for hers. When she gave it to him, he pushed off gently and they were swinging. The morning air was crisp and Kara could feel goose bumps on her bare legs. The sun was beginning to fill the sky and the birds in the magnolia tree were now awake.

“I love you,” Logan said.

“I love you too.”

“I’m sure I’ll screw up a lot before we make it to Bill and Rosemary.”

At the mention of their names, Kara squeezed his hand.

“I’m sure I will too.” Her throat felt thick.

When the swings slowed, Kara pushed off, still holding tight.

“I want the things you want. Our children in the garden, pancakes on Sunday,” he said.

Kara couldn’t breathe.

“I want the rooms of our house filled with your light, your refracted magical sea light. I want to wake up every morning wrapped around you,” Logan continued and then his voice hitched and he stopped swinging.

He got off of his swing and knelt down in front of her. Kara let out a gasp. She was out of her body at this point. She jumped out of her seat and knelt down in the sand with him.

Logan laughed.

“Okay, well this is one way to do it. Crazy-haired princess Kara, I promise to try. I promise to cook for you and always keep bologna and Miracle Whip in the house. Please marry me and I will give you everything I have; it’s all yours and I will love you all of my life.”

Kara nodded. She couldn’t speak yet, so she stayed there in the sand in nothing but Logan’s T-shirt. Very undignified, her mother would say. Kara couldn’t care less.

“Farm boy, I think I may have loved you from the very moment I met you. I’m certain I was gone once I tasted your hollandaise sauce, but nothing prepared me for imperfect you.” Kara started to cry. “Thank you for letting me keep you safe.” She held her hands to her chest. “I love you.”

She held his face and kissed him.

“Is there a ‘but’ coming here because you haven’t even looked at the ring. Is this going to be an ‘I love you, Logan, but I can’t spend every damn day with you’ type of thing?”

Kara laughed and her eyes fell to the dark velvet box in his hand. The band was platinum, she could tell, and mounted on top was a gorgeous square stone, but it wasn’t a diamond. It sparkled more with tiny intricate cuts. It had a wash of blue and reminded Kara of the sun glinting off the ocean. She loved it.

“Logan, it’s incredible.” She kissed him again.

“It’s a white sapphire and the band is recycled platinum.” He slid it onto her finger. “Kenna said I needed to get off my damn soapbox, because every woman wanted a diamond, but I couldn’t do it. Have you seen
Blood Diamond
?”

Kara laughed and a breeze blew across her face, drying her tears.

“Yes, I have, and I’ll climb up on the soapbox with you. I love it and I love you so much.”

There they sat, kissing in the sand by their new swing set. Canopied by the magnolia tree and surrounded by Logan’s garden. He stood up and gestured to his back. Kara hopped on and he carried her piggyback into his house, their house.

“Life was meant to be tasted,” her Nana had told her over banana splits one summer. Kara smiled and kissed the back of Logan’s neck. Nana really did know what she was talking about.

Acknowledgements

I would like to thank:

Katie McCoach, my editor, for just about everything.