35. The Prophecy
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
the prophecy
ABI
BLACKBURN FALLS, ONTARIO
PRESENT DAY
Kat was there when my mom left my dad, she was there when Brendan decided the right thing to do was to end our almost decade-long relationship without a single word, and she’s here now.
“Abigail King, you are a fucking babe!” She squeals, wrapping me up in a tight hug the moment I answer the door.
“So are you,” I laugh. “I’ve missed you so much.”
She’s always been effortlessly beautiful, with warm brown eyes, and long dark hair that flows down her shoulders in elegant waves. She’s dressed in a pair of faded blue jeans and a white tank top that perfectly contrasts her light brown skin. She was like this even back when we were teenagers; I embraced my inner goth while Kat leaned into cheerleading. We were opposites, but I think that’s part of what brought us together.
“I missed you too, babe! But hey, someone wants to say hi to his auntie A.”
She pulls back as the front door opens and I spot Marcus, with baby Dylan balanced on his hip. I guess baby’s not quite right anymore. He’s two now, and he looks just like his mom, with puppy dog eyes that could rival Logan’s.
“Oh my god, he’s huge!” I gush.
Marcus hands him off to me, giving me a kiss on the cheek in the pass-off.
“You look great, Abi,” He says with a bright smile. “And congratulations on the engagement!”
“Thank you,” I chuckle, gently bouncing Dylan up and down. “You’re gonna be a giant when you get older, you know!”
“Speaking of giants, are your fiancé’s parents Ents or something?”
Kat’s staring past me, and I glance over my shoulder to find Logan leaning up against the doorframe. He holds out his hand, striding toward the two of them with the utmost confidence.
“I’m Logan. To address your question, yes, my parents are both Ents. They were actually extras in the Lord of the Rings films, as well as experts for all tree-related material.”
“And funny, too! Abi, you hit the jackpot!”
There’s that hollow feeling in my chest again. I hate that playing pretend is so effortless; the words ‘my fiancé’ come out far too easily, and that should worry me, but at the same time it feels like a forbidden treat, a taste of something I can’t have.
Logan and Marcus shake hands as Kat eyes the ring on my finger.
“Your man’s got excellent taste. It’s so vintage, and so you.”
“Yeah, Logan’s got quite the eye,” I laugh, trying to force down the surge of anxiety. “But come on, let’s eat, I’ve got pancakes to make! You want pancakes, Dylan?”
He grabs my nose and pinches it until my eyes water.
“Ow! Jesus, kiddo!”
“Sorry, babe!” Kat laughs, prying him off of me. “Dylan, baby, soft hands, okay?”
Dylan bursts into tears and Kat clicks her tongue. Marcus just looks tired.
“He thinks he hurt you,” he murmurs. “He’s at this stage where he’s hypersensitive to that sort of thing, and we’re trying to teach him to be gentle.”
“Aww, I’m fine, baby, I promise!”
I gently boop Dylan’s nose, but it only seems to make things worse.
“Marcus, can you grab his bear from the car?”
Marcus winces.
“It’s at home.”
“Guys, can I try something?” Logan asks, slipping his dad’s watch off his wrist and concealing it in his palm.
“Go nuts,” Kat sighs, over the sound of piercing screams.
“Hi, Dylan!” Logan coos, crouching down as he approaches. He glances at Marcus and Kat. “Is it okay if I hold him?”
The two seem curious, both nodding silently in response. I pass Dylan off to Logan, watching as he cradles the kid gently in his arms, bouncing him from side to side. My heart swells at his gentleness. He’s always been comfortable around kids; it probably helps that he’s just a big one himself.
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Kat beaming at me and my chest aches even more. It’s like a pang of jealousy for the fictional version of me that gets to have all of this with Logan Flynn, the version of me that’s not just pretending.
Logan reaches behind Dylan’s ear, looking like he’s searching for something.
“Dylan, I think you’ve got…” He gasps, revealing his watch. “Whooooaaa! What’s that?”
Dylan’s eyes grow wide with curiosity as he lets out a soft hiccup in favor of another piercing shriek, and he starts to laugh, cooing as Logan places it in his chubby little hands.
“Holy shit,” Marcus laughs. “Do you babysit? You could make a killing from us alone.”
“Don’t say ‘shit’ in front of the baby!” Kat laughs. “He’s going to pick that up!”
“The other day you called a lawn mower the c word,” Marcus reminds her with a raised brow.
“Hey, he was down for a nap. The cursing is free if he’s unconscious.”
We head in toward the kitchen, that minor disaster averted.
“I hope your watch isn’t expensive,” Marcus chimes in, pulling out a chair. “He’ll probably try to put it in his mouth.”
“Family heirloom,” Logan replies with a shrug, watching closely as Dylan continues to be enthralled by his watch. “But if it was able to handle my dad falling into the Hudson, it can probably survive this little guy.”
Logan takes Dylan straight to the back window, and I watch as he gleefully points out clouds, birds, and anything else that might be interesting for a two-year-old. He’s completely calmed down, the only evidence of his tantrum are the tear-stains on his chubby little cheeks.
“You guys want some coffee?”
“I’m off that stuff,” Marcus replies. “High blood pressure.”
“I think my mom’s got some peppermint tea if you— wait, high blood pressure? Aren’t you like 28?”
“Yeah,” he chuckles. “Time really has a way of grabbing you by the balls and?—”
“Marcus!” Kat hisses.
He sighs, rubbing his eyes.
“Balls is not a bad word! He doesn’t have the context!”
The next few minutes is a whirlwind of activity as different drinks are divvied out, ending with Logan and Marcus outside along with Dylan, while Kat and I watch through the window.
“He’s great with kids. He’s gonna be a good dad— I mean, if that’s what the two of you want.”
“You sound like my mom,” I snicker.
I actually do want kids, at least eventually. It was the thing Brendan and I argued about the most. He wanted them immediately, but we were so young, and I wasn’t ready. I still had my whole life ahead of me, still had to figure out exactly who I was. In hindsight though, if I’m being truly honest with myself, I think the real problem was I wanted kids, I just didn’t want them with him.
“This is all so exciting! I have so many questions. How did you meet? How long have you two been together?” She frowns. “Okay, apparently I have two questions.”
“He was actually that guy who spilled that drink on me back in Toronto. You remember the night after?—”
Kat gasps.
“Are you serious?! So, what, you guys hooked up and— wait, you kept him a secret for that long?”
“It wasn’t a secret,” I laugh. “It just took us a while to figure things out. There’s a whole departmental thing at EBU… it’s a lot of paperwork.”
The more complicated the lie gets, the more there is to keep track of. The worst thing about weaving a web like this is remembering which strings could cause it to collapse.
“Okay, so that explains why I didn’t know about him until a few months ago, but how come you never told me you were engaged? You were the first person I called when I got pregnant!”
She was holed up in a drug store bathroom when I got the call. We both started screaming out of panic and joy.
“It was a spur of the moment thing while we were driving here. He just… popped the question, and I said yes.”
“Just like that? Nothing special planned? No song and dance? No flash mob?” Kat elbows me in the ribs and I bump her with my hip in return.
“If he organized a flash mob proposal, I’d have to bury a body and face my ex-fiancé at the reunion,” I laugh. “That’s not the kind of summer vacation I was hoping for.”
Kat chuckles, and I hear Dylan squeal from outside. Logan and Marcus look like they’re pretending to be dinosaurs, chasing him around the backyard while they let out mighty roars.
Marcus and Kat have been inseparable since that same night in Toronto, when she finally decided to work up the courage to dance with him. Three years later, they have a beautiful little boy and a gorgeous house. He works in real estate and Kat’s his assistant. Their pictures are on billboards all over Blackburn.
“Are you nervous about seeing Brendan?”
We’re both looking out the window when she asks me, but I don’t need to see her face to tell she immediately feels a little awkward about the question.
“Not really,” I lie, watching Logan scoop Dylan up, the two men tickling him like crazy. “Is Marcus still friends with him?”
“What? Hell no.”
I try not to sound too surprised.
Or happy.
“What happened?”
Kat takes a deep breath, turning back to me as she sips her coffee.
“Can you keep a secret?”
I flash her an incredulous look.
“Remember when we used to steal those menthols out of your grandma’s purse when we were 13? If I’m taking that to the grave, imagine what other horrible secrets I’ve kept.”
Kat chuckles, leaning up against the counter and clutching her mug close to her chest. This feels like old times, when we used to get together for a little glass of wine and a big gossip session. I swear, it was better than therapy.
“We were playing darts at the Black Bear after closing one night. It was just after Dylan was born and I was still really sensitive, you know? I’d just pushed a nine pound kid out of me, and my hormones were totally out of control.” She runs her hand through her hair. “Marcus and I got into an argument over something stupid, and he went to the bar to get another drink.”
She glances back out the window, reflexively checking to make sure he’s still outside before lowering her voice to continue.
“Brendan reaches out, puts his hand on my thigh and says, if you ever need a real man, you give me a call.”
She scoffs at the memory.
“Now, he was wasted, mind you, but still?—”
“Doesn’t he have a baby? With Carly? That had to have already happened by then.”
I’d be shocked, but nothing I hear about Brendan surprises me anymore.
“Yes! That’s the truly fucked up part! And when I told her what her perfect husband had done? She called me a liar! To my face!” She picks a strawberry out of our assorted fruit bowl and pops it into her mouth. “It became a whole thing. Brendan texted me and told me he was drunk that night and he was just joking around, blah blah blah. Fuck him– fuck both of them, actually.”
I wonder why I didn’t see the signs. How many times did he pull something like that while we were together and I just never knew? How many other red flags did I miss?
Logan slides in through the door with a big smile on his face. His grey sweats are covered in grass stains, and I watch as he drags his hand through his messy hair.
“God, that kid’s got a lot of energy!” He chuckles. “Either that or I’m already too old for this shit.”
Outside, Dylan is still tearing around the backyard, with Marcus lumbering after him.
“Could be a bit of both,” Kat laughs. “I think the two of us have aged about ten years since he was born.”
My phone buzzes on the counter and I flip it over, everything else suddenly fading into the background.
Email notification.
Scholarship application status.
My heart is racing. Maybe I won. Maybe I can go to this reunion relaxed and secure in my postdoc position. Maybe I won’t have to lie about all this shit after all.
Dear Dr. King,
Please.
We regret to inform you…
I don’t even get past that first line. I can’t bring myself to do it.
I can cry later.
I will cry later, but not now.
I pour Logan a cup of coffee, bringing it over to him.
“Oh, thank you!” He brushes my hand before taking the cup, sipping at it as I wrap my arms around him and burying my face in his chest.
A tidal wave of grief washes over me as I breathe him in. If my contract at EBU ends, I don’t know what I’m going to do. I’ll have to get a job somewhere else, find another postdoc if I can. That could take me anywhere in the country, maybe even back to Canada.
He dips his head a little, pressing a kiss into the top of my head.
“Are you okay?” He asks, reading my mood perfectly, and keeping his voice low.
But I can’t tell him right now. I can’t tell anyone. I have to swallow this.
“Yeah. I’m good.”
I’d give myself an A for effort, but my voice still has that little shake which always gives me away. It feels like Logan’s about to say something, but Kat’s voice pierces our little bubble before we can get any further into the pity party I’m trying my best to avoid.
“Oh, I forgot to ask you guys! We were going to go to The Black Bear tonight for pool and karaoke. Marcus has gotta cook the books anyway, and I figured we’d do a pre-celebration before the reunion this weekend. Drinks are on the house…”
All I want to do is collapse into the guest house and cry, but I have to keep up appearances. I take a few deep breaths and put on my game face as Logan wraps his arms around my waist, holding me close.
“What time?”
“8:00 sharp!” Kat chirps.
“At night?” Logan asks. “You know, someone really needs to do something about you damn kids holding events after 6:00pm.”
“Calm down, old man,” I laugh.
I’m a failure.
I can’t do anything right.
“Count us in!”
At least it’ll help numb the pain.