Read Where the Allegheny Meets the Monongahela Online
Authors: Felicia Watson
Tags: #m/m romance, #Novel, #Paperback, #Contemporary, #gay, #glbt, #romance, #dreamspinner press, #felicia watson
A tired shrug was his first response, followed by, ―Not really. I
guess I been ignoring it for a lotta years. Finally caught up with me.‖
―A lot of years? Since before we were married?‖ There was a
definite wobble in her voice. ―Does that mean you
never
loved me?‖
Logan shook his head as he chewed at a hangnail. When he‘d
done enough damage to taste blood, he finally answered, ―That ain‘t so.
I did—I
do
love you, but it ain‘t…. I just…. I never loved you like you
deserved.‖
A bitter snort signaled her opinion of that statement. ―Too bad
you didn‘t figure that out before you nearly killed me throwin‘ me
through that dresser.‖
Ignoring that, he tried to redirect the conversation by asking,
―Where do we go from here?‖
―You‘re asking me?‖ Linda said. ―Damned if I know.‖ Her hand
flew to her mouth as she gasped, ―Fuck, what‘re we gonna tell the
girls?‖
―I don‘t wanta tell ‘em
this
,‖ Logan answered firmly. ―Not yet.‖
―No shit.‖ Linda shot him a look that suggested Logan had taken
leave of his senses. ―But they‘re gonna wanta know why we‘re splittin‘
up.‖
―Can‘t we just tell ‘em we decided we‘re better off apart?‖
―Yeah, somethin‘ like that, I guess.‖ Linda ran a hand through her
hair, adding, ―Let me think on it, Logan.‖ She turned to him, asking
sarcastically, ―Are you in a hurry about this? You wanta run off to San
Francisco with your
boyfriend
or somethin‘?‖
Where the Allegheny Meets the Monongahela
221
―Hell no,‖ Logan snapped. If anyone else had asked that question,
there would have been grave consequences, but he clamped down on
his anger and let it go. ―We can tell ‘em when you‘re ready.‖
Suddenly, Linda leaned back against the couch and demanded,
―Who is this guy, anyway?‖
―What?‖
―You heard me.‖
―I ain‘t gonna—‖
―Oh, forget it,‖ Linda said, waving her hand dismissively. ―I don‘t
even know why I asked. Just wondered where you met him, is all.
Can‘t picture you hanging out in some gay bar—‖
―I been working on a car with him,‖ Logan supplied tersely.
―Wow, another grease monkey. You two sound perfect for each
other,‖ Linda jeered.
Logan was tempted to tell her she was right about that last part,
but he ignored the dig, figuring there was much worse she could have
said. Rising from the couch, he said, ―Guess I better get going.‖
―Yeah, I need some time to pull myself together before the girls
get home.‖
Logan nodded and turned to go, but the mention of his daughters
prodded him to confirm their plans. ―Speaking of them, you still gonna
let me have ‘em for the weekend?‖
―Are you gonna take ‘em over to meet your
friend
?‖ Linda
imbued the last word with extreme bitterness and irony.
Using up the last of his patience, Logan ground out, ―No.‖ He let
that sink in and then added, ―Though I was sorta thinkin‘ of takin‘ ‘em
to Elco with me.‖
―Elco? What the hell for?‖
―I need to get a car painted at Cal Titus‘s place, and I thought I‘d
stay with my sister when I do. I haven‘t talked to her about this yet, so
nothin‘s certain, but she ain‘t seen the girls since we left,‖ he finished
lamely, hoping Linda wouldn‘t point out the fact that Daisy hadn‘t seen
them all that much when they lived in Elco.
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Linda stood up and gathered their beer bottles and coffee mugs
and seemed to be mulling over his plan. Finally she said, ―Okay. You
can have the girls, but I wanta know before Friday if you‘re takin‘ ‘em
to Elco or not.‖ She drained her beer before turning to him. ―You ain‘t
gonna let people back home know ‘bout this, are you?‖
―No, ‘course not,‖ Logan scoffed. He took a deep breath and
asked, ―Are you?‖
―Yeah, sure.‖ Linda rolled her eyes as she said, ―All my life I
been dyin‘ to become the laughin‘ stock of Elco.‖
There was nothing good to say to that, so Logan pulled his keys
out of his pocket and said, ―I‘ll see ya Friday when I pick the girls up.‖
―Yeah, I‘ll have ‘em packed up and ready before six so you won‘t
have to hang around waiting,‖ Linda answered. It was obvious from her
tone that her offer was as much for her own sake as his.
LATE Thursday morning, Nick jogged up the front porch steps to get
another leaf bag from his stash. He stopped to gulp some coffee from
his thermos before heading back to work. He‘d already filled four large
bags with leaves after steadily raking for a couple of hours, yet he still
had quite a bit of work in front of him, which was surprising
considering the size of his tiny yard. But the plot of ground was
covered with oak trees, and they made their presence known each fall.
Nick usually paid a neighborhood kid to rake them up, but this year he
had the time to tackle the job himself.
In spite of the crisp October weather, Nick had removed his
jacket, since the manual labor was keeping him plenty warm. He‘d
nearly filled the fifth bag when he heard a car coming up the driveway.
Nick looked over and immediately recognized Trudy‘s silver Honda
Civic. It was all he could do not to roll his eyes at this unexpected visit.
Trudy had checked in with him by phone every day since Monday, now
this.
As she walked slowly over to where he stood, Nick swallowed
back an impulse to tell her he still had a mother, thank you very much,
Where the Allegheny Meets the Monongahela
223
and instead waved a hand at her wool suit, saying, ―That isn‘t the best
work outfit I ever saw, but the extra rake is in the back shed.‖
Trudy could barely muster up a smile at his lame quip, but she did
look around and say, ―The place looks good. You‘ve been busy.‖
Nick leaned on his rake and looked at the house and yard with
some satisfaction. ―Yeah, I‘ve been doing a little painting and cleaning
up an‘ that.‖ He shot his boss a slightly sardonic smile. ―So did you
drop in to see if I‘ve been using my time off wisely?‖ When Trudy
didn‘t answer immediately, only searched his face with her large brown
eyes, Nick felt a cold lump of unease settle into his stomach. ―Is
something wrong?‖
Rather than answering directly, Trudy said, ―Let‘s have a seat,
okay?‖
―Sure,‖ Nick answered, taking a few shallow breaths to quell his
rising alarm.
Get a grip. She ain’t gonna fire me now. What could’a
changed since Monday? I ain’t even talked to Logan since then.
When Nick dropped his rake, she steered him gently to the porch,
and they both settled in on the top step, Trudy seeming unconcerned
about her good suit. He stiffened his spine and looked at her, saying,
―Okay. What‘s up?‖
―I have bad news, Nick.‖
That phrase sent panic racing through his veins. Bad news, said in
that tone and given by one counselor to another, could only mean one
thing. ―One of my clients?‖ Trudy‘s faced confirmed it. ―Who? Oh,
God, is it Sheila? It‘s her, I—‖
―It‘s not Sheila,‖ Trudy broke in gently. ―It‘s… it‘s Norah.‖
Nick felt like there was a disconnect between his ears and his
brain. Those words didn‘t make any sense—couldn‘t make sense. ―No,
it can‘t be. She‘s still in Arkport, she‘s with her parents. She‘s—‖
―According to the police report, she left Arkport over two weeks
ago, but she never came back to Pittsburgh. Instead she headed to
Monroeville to stay with Alex.‖
―She‘s been with Alex this whole time?‖ Nick was practically
shouting, but he couldn‘t help himself. ―What the fuck, Trudy! How
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bad is she hurt?‖ Even as he asked that question, there was a small boy
inside begging brokenly, ―Please, oh, please, God, no. Please don‘t let
her be….‖
―She‘s dead. It was a murder-suicide, apparently—‖
Trudy‘s words hit Nick like a block of black ice, freezing his core
and knocking out all possibility of rational or coherent thought. When
he brushed the tears from his face, he felt oddly disconnected from
them, as though they‘d been shed by another man entirely. Vertigo
swooped down on him, and Nick lowered his head, trying to ride out
the wave of nausea.
―Nick, did you hear what I said?‖ Trudy‘s steady voice broke into
his reverie. ―I want you to pack a bag and come and stay with us for a
few days.‖
―No,‖ Nick answered firmly, finally finding his voice.
―I really think it‘s best—‖
―No.‖ He got to his feet. ―I‘m gonna pack a bag, all right, but not
so I can go hide out with you and Larry. I gotta get to the funeral.‖
―The funeral isn‘t until Saturday,‖ Trudy said, following him to
the door.
―Why not?‖
―They‘re doing an autopsy today.‖ Nick closed his eyes against
the image of his beautiful friend laid out on a cold steel slab. ―Besides,
I don‘t think it‘s wise for you to attend the funeral. Not alone.‖
Nick spun on his heel, snarling, ―You don‘t think it‘s
wise
? You
don‘t think I owe that to her? After I abandoned her, threw her to the
wolves like—‖
―Jesus Christ, Nick, will you listen to yourself? I knew you‘d try
and take all of the blame. I knew it!‖
―If not me, who?‖
―How about blaming Alex, the fucker who pulled the trigger?‖
Trudy grabbed hold of his sleeve. ―How about blaming me, the one
who told you to let her go? How about blaming Norah—‖
Where the Allegheny Meets the Monongahela
225
―No,‖ Nick cried, wrenching away from her and moving towards
the front door. He put his hand on the knob and managed to say more
calmly, ―I need you to leave now.‖
Trudy followed him, asserting, ―I don‘t think you should be alone
right now.‖
―Too bad, ‘cause that‘s exactly what I want.‖
―Nick—‖
―Please, go.‖
It was clear Trudy was wavering, but she finally nodded, saying,
―Okay. But you call me if you need
anything
. And I‘ll be back
tomorrow.‖
―I‘ll be on my way to Arkport tomorrow.‖
―Then let me take you.‖ When Nick glared at her, she amended,
―Or let someone go with you. I‘m sure someone else at ACC—‖
―No.‖
―I insist—‖
Nick whirled on her angrily. ―Do you need a fucking hearing aid?
I said no! Besides, you can‘t insist. You‘re not even my boss anymore.‖
―What the hell does that mean?‖
―It means when you get back to your office, you can make my
leave of absence permanent.‖ Nick turned back to the door and opened
it.
―I will do no such thing.‖
―Well, you better, ‘cause I quit.‖
If he didn‘t quite slam the door in Trudy‘s face, he came close
enough. When he finally heard Trudy‘s car pull away, he had to fight
the childish impulse to crawl into a closet or under a bed. Those had
been his favorite hiding spots as a kid faced with the sounds of his dad
whaling on his mom. Nick knew he was too big for hiding now.
Besides, as he‘d always found out, it didn‘t solve anything. With no
better idea, he curled up on the couch under his mom‘s old afghan and
fell into a troubled sleep marred by violent, blood-drenched dreams.
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Felicia Watson
WHEN Nick awoke to the ringing phone, he was totally disoriented.
The light coming in from the front room window was soft and dim, and
he had apparently fallen asleep on the couch. Still unsure of what day
or time it was, he grabbed the receiver and groggily answered, ―Hello.‖
―Hey, Nick.‖
The husky voice on the other end of the line was sad and somber,
and the events of the day came rushing back to him. ―Logan.‖ A shard
of guilt cut some of the elation that voice brought to Nick‘s heart. What
right did he have to be glad about anything when Norah was dead?
Especially upon hearing from a man who was—essentially—one of
Alex‘s brethren. Wasn‘t he?
―I heard about Norah. I‘m so sorry—‖
―Yeah, thanks,‖ Nick cut in. ―How did you hear?‖
―Trudy called me.‖
If he‘d had the energy, Nick would have said something about
meddling ex-bosses who didn‘t know when to leave well enough alone.
But he didn‘t. It turned out that ―Oh‖ was the best he could manage.
―Yeah, so… she says you‘re gonna be goin‘ to the funeral, and I
thought maybe we could go togeth—‖
―Was that your idea or Trudy‘s?‖
―Does it matter?‖
A second of consideration allowed Nick to admit, ―No, I guess it
doesn‘t. Because I‘m going alone.‖
―Norah was my friend, too.‖
―Would you be going if it weren‘t for me?‖
―Well….‖
―Yeah, that‘s what I thought.‖
―So? What difference does it make? I still wanta go with you.‖