Chapter 23
Logan
“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry if we made things awkward.
It didn’t occur to me that she would be here this morning.
It seemed like the end of the night when you left us,” my mom said to me quietly in the kitchen once Megan got situated on a stool at the counter with my dad, who was pouring her a glass of orange juice.
Dex had gone back to the living room and Veeti had come in and taken a seat at the small table with a cup of coffee that he was clutching like maybe he’d had a late night.
“I thought it was too, but she texted on her way back to her dorm, and…”
“Enough said. And if I hadn’t already started cooking breakfast, we’d be out of here. But none of the boys mentioned anything.”
“They didn’t know Megan was here,” I said. Dex probably suspected, given Philly’s look just now. But I’d never had a girl spend the night in the house before.
“Did we make it worse, then, by having you come down? Did we, I don’t know, out her or something?”
I laughed at my mom’s summation, but maybe she wasn’t that far off. Would Megan be pissed that she was being pulled into another “girlfriend” activity? I hoped not.
“Nah, it’s all good. Thanks for all this,” I said, motioning not only to the nearly done French toast but also to what seemed to be a hefty batch of groceries that sat on the counter in various stages of being put away.
“It’s nothing. I woke up so energized this morning that I made your dad take me on a Costco run. I unbagged the things that needed to be refrigerated, but I’ll let you boys do the rest, since you know where everything goes.”
We were over a month into classes and our kitchen would have still looked like the third day, when we’d done a huge grocery run, if it hadn’t been for Gabe.
Seemed he enjoyed being in the kitchen, letting us know what we needed, even cooking for us all a few nights a week.
That, coupled with team meals that we had a few nights while watching film and having meetings, meant I was barely acquainted with where things were in our kitchen.
Then the words my mom had said hit me. “Why were you so energized this morning?”
She looked over her shoulder to see that my dad held Megan in conversation. “I’m not really sure. I think it was meeting Megan. Knowing that she’s—”
“Okay, okay. Simmer down. Like I said at the hotel, it’s very early stages. She doesn’t want anything serious. We’re not using labels. And I don’t want to—”
“Yes, yes, you said all that last night. I’m not saying anything different. I just…” She switched the burner off and turned to face me, her hip against the counter like mine was. “I just liked seeing you with her. What she brought out in you.”
I knew I was crazy about Megan. And my mom knew the backstory. But I didn’t think I’d blatantly given anything away. Not when I was trying so hard to play it cool for Megan’s benefit. “What does she bring out in me?” I asked.
Mom tipped her head while she parsed her words.
J had had that same mannerism. I felt the familiar gut punch that I got when a memory was stirred from out of the blue.
But instead of stuffing it back down like I’d done since July (really since last fall, when we realized J’s cancer had returned), I let it roll over me for a second, taking it in.
Wondering if I had that same mannerism too.
It dulled the pain a bit, enough for me to notice the difference.
Maybe that was the effects of the grief study.
Or maybe it was just Megan.
“I want to say she brings out the old you, but that doesn’t feel right. None of us are the old us, are we?”
I shook my head. “No.”
“No. But there was a lightness to you last night. A little playfulness that had been dormant.”
“Dormant. Good word. Might bring that one up in Grief Inc.”
I’d brought my parents up to speed last night about the group and the interesting things I’d learned, how some had even seemed to help. Or at least had me realizing that I wasn’t alone in losing someone I loved.
“Well, whatever it was, I’m glad it got you energized enough for all this.” I waved again at the overflowing kitchen counters filled with groceries and paper products.
“Happy to do it. And again, sorry for the ambush last night at the game. I just really wanted to be here and was afraid that you’d—”
I cut her off with a hug (something I would probably not have done in front of any other girl I’d spent the night with) and said, “It’s okay. It caught me off guard, but I’m glad you’re here. It’s good to see you. And I’m glad you made the trip.”
Her face moved against my shoulder in a way that made me think she was wiping a forming tear away. When she pulled back, I could see the wetness on my shirt, confirming it.
“Okay. Enough of that. Let’s eat.”
Megan
I had planned to eat and run, wanting a shower and to give Logan more time with his parents.
His roommates joined us for breakfast, and the talk was all about the game last night and the upcoming one tonight.
They were so engrossed in conversation that it seemed natural that I clear the table, even though Logan was quick to tell me I didn’t need to and even hopped up to help.
I waved him down and even kind of enjoyed clearing the table and doing the dishes.
Logan’s mom joined me at the sink.
“I suppose I could just load these in the dishwasher, but it’s been a while since I’ve done dishes. Not much call for that in the dorms. Rinsing out a plate or mug about covers it. Seems kind of nice.”
“I always found doing dishes oddly relaxing,” she said. “Even when the boys were young, and I wanted them to take on the responsibility, I would still do them when they were at practice or school. Not very feminist of me, I suppose.”
I shrugged. “Doing what relaxes you could be considered very feminist. As long as it’s what you want to do.”
She smiled and continued drying a plate I’d washed and rinsed.
The warm, soapy water felt good on my hands, and I found myself missing the bathtub in the bathroom Mallory and I shared at home.
I took a lot of long baths last year when my siblings had been at school and my dad was at work.
Anything to not have to face being in my mother’s house without her.
“How are you adjusting to the dorms? Logan liked it well enough last year, but J hated his freshman year in the dorm. Didn’t like being around so many people.”
“It can take a while to get used to,” I said. “The hallways full of people. Common areas always full. But yeah, it’s good.”
Her hands paused mid-wipe and her brow furrowed as though a thought had just come to her. “I wonder if it reminded J of the hospital? I don’t know how much you know about…”
“I know James—J—was sick when he was younger too. I could see a dorm reminding him of that.”
She was nodding. “I’m just putting that together now.
I wonder if he did? If he knew that’s why he disliked the dorm?
” A sadness I recognized was creeping into her expression, and then she literally shook it away.
“Anyway. He loved living off campus the next year. And, of course, being on the team meant so much time away from the dorm anyway.”
“That’s good,” I said, not having anything better to say.
We finished the dishes, and I announced that I needed to get back to the dorm.
“Will we see you at the game tonight?” Logan’s dad asked.
I cut a quick look to Logan, who was nodding. “Yeah. Can you come?” he asked.
I could, I absolutely could. But because I wanted to so badly, I figured it was probably best not to. Besides, a night away from Logan would give me time to get my feelings in order. Figure out what I wanted. And didn’t want.
Logan smiled, his dimples crinkling, and I knew I needed some space.
“I really can’t. But thanks. It was fun last night.” I turned to his parents, who were now standing expectantly in the doorway to the living room. “Thank you again for dinner last night, and breakfast. Truly outstanding French toast.”
“Anytime. Really,” Tricia said.
“I’ll walk you back to the dorm,” Logan said, but I shook my head.
“No. That’s okay. Stay.”
“Well, I’ll at least walk you to—”
“Really. I’m good. Finish your coffee.” I didn’t need Logan kissing me goodbye out on the street for anyone who was on the busy corner of Sturgess to see. Mainly because I wouldn’t want to let him go if he did. “I’ll see you Wednesday,” I said.
“I’ll see you before then,” Logan said with what seemed like determination in his voice.
I’d already had the swinging door open and just gave an “okay” and wave over my shoulder, then hurriedly made my way to the front door.
Thankfully the living room was empty, and I was out on the front porch fighting back the urge to take in gulps of fresh air.
Like I’d just had a close call or something.
Maybe I had, but I wasn’t sure with what.
“Megan, wait a minute,” I heard from behind me when I’d left the front porch. I’d wondered if he’d follow me. But it wasn’t his deep, rich voice that called out to me.
I turned around as Tricia came down the porch steps to meet me on the mostly dirt front lawn. “Do you have plans today?” she asked.
A million reasons why she’d ask ran through my mind, and what I’d be getting into if I said no. “No,” I said. “Not really. Laundry, maybe. Studying, probably. Should be, anyway.”
“I see. I just… Hmm… How should I say this?”
Keep your hockey groupie whore hands off my grieving son?
Was that what she wanted to say? I had gotten that vibe slightly at the start of dinner last night, but it was soon gone, and there was a totally different energy from her this morning.
Which made me wonder if my name had come up when they went back to their hotel with Logan.
“Say what?”
“Well, I know you lost your mother. Is there anywhere or anything that you could use that I could take you shopping for? Anything you need? Clothes? Things for your dorm?”
“You don’t need to buy me clothes, Mrs. Fields,” I said. I could have been offended, but I wasn’t. It wasn’t a money thing. It was a filling-the-void thing. I guessed that could have offended me as well, but it didn’t.
“No, no, of course not. And call me Tricia, please. I just wondered if once you got here, you found that you could have really used… a hot plate or something.”
I laughed. “Nope. No need for a hot plate.” I wasn’t even sure what that was.
She smiled when she saw I was taking this all in the way she’d intended. “No, of course not. That was more from my college days. Is there anything for which a trip to Costco or a clothing store or wherever might be helpful? We rented an SUV for the weekend.”
It was what my mom had done last year. She’d flown here with me and stayed in Schoolport a couple of days, which we spent getting supplemental stuff for my room.
Tricia would have done the same with Logan in a different dorm. She would have known there was no one in that role for me this year.
“My aunt offered to come with me. But I thought I could handle it alone,” I said quietly, letting her know that I knew her ulterior, though super-thoughtful, motive. To be a woman in my life I could lean on. If only to help me pick out a hot plate. Whatever that was.
She reached out and put a warm hand on my shoulder. “And was that the right move?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. But I wasn’t the only one who came alone, and it was fine after the first day or two.”
She nodded. “Logan said being in the grief study has been helpful for him. I hope you find some worth in it as well.”
“I do. It’s been really beneficial, I think. It’s a good group of people and I’m learning things about grief, and myself, that I hadn’t thought of before.”
“I’m so glad you have that.”
“Do you?” I asked before I thought better of it.
“Pardon?” Her hand dropped from my shoulder and she took a step back.
I called on my inner Marlo London. “You lost a son, Tricia. Watched him suffer. And I’m sure you’re putting your husband’s, and Logan’s, needs ahead of yours, as women often do. But you need to mourn too.”
She nodded a little too forcefully, like maybe she was trying to stop the tears that had formed in her eyes from falling. “Some days it feels like that’s all I do. Mourn J.”
“That’s okay. Have those days,” I said.
“I’ve been thinking about joining a support group. I’m not sure if James would go with me or not. He’s like our boys—strong, silent, the ‘don’t let anyone see you’re hurting’ type.”
I thought about Connor and how he used humor to deflect. And Logan’s clenched fists at times during the class. “I know that type. There’s a couple of them in our group. Most of us, actually,” I added with a laugh.
She nodded and swiped at the one tear that had managed to fall. “Well. I won’t keep you. If you don’t need anything that I could help you with today?”
“I’m good, thanks.” I was about to turn and walk to the street, but the urge to hug this woman enveloped me, and I found myself pulling her into a strong hug that she immediately returned just as firmly.
“I’m so sorry about J,” I whispered just as she said the same to me about my mom.
It caused us to laugh and be able to break apart with a little less embarrassment.
“I know you have family. It sounds like one you’re close with,” she said, and I nodded.
“And I’m no closer to you in Minnesota than they are in Nebraska, but I’ll have Logan give you my number if you need anything.
Something shipped to you. Or just to hear a mom’s voice, even if it can’t be yours… ”
“Thank you, Tricia. I’ll make sure I reach out,” I said, meaning it.
We said our goodbyes and I walked back to Creyts. When I got to our room, I was relieved no one was there and I didn’t have to explain coming home late morning wearing a Bribury Hockey fleece.
I didn’t need to explain something to the girls that I was so confused about myself.