Chapter 14 - Logan
From that night on, a little more color crept back into Logan’s life. It was unexpected, the kind of thing that she might have read about in romance novels, had she chosen to read such things.
Solomon would meet her almost every evening when neither of them had prior commitments. They’d run for a while, racing each other, Logan always winning. And not because he let her. Logan was not just fast, but also tireless. They’d collapse in the grass next to one another, Solomon panting while Logan barely seemed winded.
She loved watching him move. He was all long and lean muscle, but he had bulk to him too. Logan tended to feel like a giraffe among people sometimes, she was so tall and muscular but Solomon made her feel diminutive and soft.
Like a woman.
She couldn’t stop thinking about him. Often she’d feel guilty, knowing she should be thinking about soccer or her father or school.
But it was impossible to think of anyone but him. She rolled her eyes when friends of her fell for a guy so quickly. How could it be plausible to have a connection with someone you barely knew?
But now that she knew Solomon Kano, she understood how it could be possible.
* * *
Logan tried to visit her parents at least one weekend a month, if not more. They only lived about 45 minutes away from campus, so it was nice to be able to slip in and spend time with them if she needed to.
Her father’s illness had rapidly progressed, something that worried her and her mother both. But they constantly tried to keep a happy demeanor around him. Dr. Heflin said the attitude of the patient was as important as any kind of treatment.
And fortunately, Chuck Lowery had a great one.
But Logan could see him gradually whittling away, something that alarmed her as he hadn’t even been diagnosed that long ago.
She’d pulled her mother aside that next weekend after throwing some laundry in the wash. The sound of it buzzing covered up their conversation. Her father was just in the other room and she didn’t want him to hear it.
“Mom,” Logan said. “He looks terrible. Is this medication not working?”
Tracy Lowery wasn’t looking so hot herself. The stress of her beloved husband’s prognosis was taking its toll. She was gaunt, very thin, and with dark circles under her eyes.
“We don’t understand it,” her mother replied. “Dr. Heflin is saying he’s already becoming resistant to it. As if he had already somehow built a resistance up before even taking it.” Her mother ran her hands through her hair. “It’s pure hell watching him get sicker and sicker, Logan. I feel like I am letting him down. But I try not to lose it in front of him or let him know how scared I am. Because despite it all, he’s positive he’s going to beat this.”
Logan wrapped her arms around her mother, allowing her to cry on her shoulder for once.
“Should I come home?” Logan asked. “Move back here? I could take a semester off. You know what, I am not even asking. I am doing it.”
Tracy shook her head. “No. That would kill him. He loves knowing you’re living your life and your dream. Having you home would break his heart. He’d feel like he’d let you down. His heart couldn’t take it, sweetie.”
Logan shook her head in frustration. “I can’t just do nothing. I can’t just go to class, play soccer, see Solomon, and pretend my favorite person in the world isn’t dying. It’s killing me.”
Her mother’s expression changed for a moment.
“See Solomon? Who is Solomon?” Her mother had forgotten her grief for a moment. “Logan Lowery, you have never mentioned a Solomon. Or any boy or man before. So… spill.”
Logan shook her head. “It’s nothing. Not important. He’s just a friend.”
“He is so not just a friend,” her mother smiled. “Tell me about him.”
Logan paused. What did she even know about Solomon Kano? Their runs and their talks tended to be centered around her. Solomon knew her father was sick. He knew her entire story from birth to now. He’d asked her a million questions about herself but had actually revealed very little about himself in return.
She hadn’t realized that until just this moment.
“Solomon. Well… he’s from Fiji. But he lives here in Cincinnati with his uncle. I think his parents might be dead, but I haven’t asked and he doesn’t talk about them. It’s just something I kind of assume. He’s a judoka who is training for the Rio Olympics. He likes Scorcese movies and chocolate and peanut butter ice cream from Graeters. We eat some at least once a week after our runs.” She paused. Was that seriously all she knew about him?
“So is he your boyfriend?” her mother asked.
Logan sighed. “No. Neither of us have time for something like that. He’s just… a friend. Who makes me happy. He’s helped take my mind off things. Which makes me feel guilty.” She looked at her mother expecting a disapproving look.
But instead her mother was smiling. For the first time in a long time.
“You should invite him over for dinner,” she replied. “I’d like to meet him. I know your dad would too.”
Logan squirmed. “Ugh, Mom. I don’t know… I mean, I know I like him a lot, but I don’t know how he feels about me. I think meeting the parents might be kind of a little much?”
Tracy Lowery looked at her daughter, sad again.
“But, Logan,” she said. “We don’t know how much time we have with Daddy. I think it would be nice for him to have the experience… Of making a guy who likes you nervous in his presence.”
Logan laughed. “Oh Lord. I can’t even imagine what Dad would be like to a guy I brought home.” Logan stared out into the living room where her father was watching a Seinfeld rerun. “Mom? What if he doesn’t like me?”
“Impossible,” her mother said, leaning over to kiss her head. “You’re beautiful. Smart. Talented. You’re a Lowery.”
And with that, any point Logan might have had was made moot.
* * *
“So,” Logan said the next week after one of their longer runs and walks. “I have what is probably a very weird question.”
Solomon was spread out on the grass, his chest still rising and falling after their latest sprint. He rolled over on his side and propped his head up with his arm.
“I’ll try not to give a very weird answer,” he said, a smile on his face.
“Well,” Logan had never been so nervous. And she wasn’t someone who got nervous. “I was wondering… If you’d like to meet my parents. Have dinner with them I mean.”
Solomon looked at her, surprise marking his handsome face.
“Well, that wasn’t the question I expected,” he replied.
Logan looked down at her legs, embarrassed. He didn’t feel how she felt. This was all so stupid.
“I was talking to my mom about you and she wanted me to ask you over… But I know, it’s weird. I mean. We’re just friends,” she said. She looked up at him and was pleasantly surprised to see him grinning at her.
“Are we?” he asked. “Just friends?”
Before she could say anything else, he wrapped one of his large, muscled forearms around her waist and pulled her toward him. Their bodies were completely touching now, their sweat intermingling.
“No,” she admitted. “We’re something else. But I don’t know what.”
Without any hesitation, he attempted to give her a definition of what they were.
He kissed her powerfully, pouring his passion into her trembling body.
The kiss, unlike any Logan had ever received, left her weak at the knees and clamoring for more of Solomon. Over her initial surprise, she emptied her own voracious need into him, a hand on the back of his head and the other on his granite chest.
When they each withdrew, both Solomon and Logan found themselves out of breath and aching for the other. They kissed again, smaller and quicker, but neither really wanted to stop. Logan put both hands on Solomon’s chest to establish a boundary of sorts.
“Well, if that doesn’t make it clear that we’re not just friends, I don’t know what else will,” she said, but even then she didn’t believe her own words, the size of Solomon’s swelling bulge so near to her giving her plenty of ideas of other things they could do to prove their less than platonic desire for the other.
“I’ve wanted to do that since I first saw you,” he whispered in her ear, making goosebumps come up on her skin. “And yes. I’d love to meet your parents.”
She grinned, relieved to know they might just be on the same page.
Maybe Solomon was as crazy about Logan as she was about him.
* * *
Logan and Solomon drove together to her parents’ house which was right outside of Dayton. Logan wasn’t one to get nervous but she couldn’t deny it; she was terrifically anxious for Solomon to meet her father.
Solomon held her hand as he drove, amused at her clear fidgeting.
“Why are you so nervous?” he asked, squeezing her hand. “Are they not going to like me?”
Logan shook her head. “They’ll adore you. Who wouldn’t? I… I’ve just never brought a guy home before.”
Solomon looked at her, seemingly shocked at this news. “Come on. You must’ve had a million guys clamoring to get to you. I can’t be the first.”
Logan smiled. “I guess none of them quite hit the mark. Until the great Solomon Kano ran into me.”
At a stoplight before their neighborhood, Solomon kissed her for so long that the car behind them had to honk to remind them that the light was green, and it meant go.
* * *
“Solomon!”
Tracy Lowery’s hug was inescapable. She’d opened the double wood paneled front door for the couple and immediately embraced the tall, bulky, and confused Solomon.
It was one of the best hugs of his life.
Logan’s mother reminded him a bit of her. They both had such a positive spirit about them. Both were tall and willowy.
He liked Mrs. Lowery immediately and was instantly at ease in her presence.
Which made Logan feel a lot better. Her momma was always one to be counted on in awkward situations.
“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Lowery,” Solomon said.
“Oh! Call me Tracy!” she said. “And my… You’re a handsome young man.”
“Mom,” Logan said, embarrassed. “You’re flirting.”
“I am not,” Tracy said as they followed her through the door and into the foyer. “Maybe a little. I’m just so excited to have you with us tonight. Do you like chicken pot pie?”
Solomon nodded. “I do. I think. Actually… I’m not sure I’ve had it before.”
Tracy clapped her hands. “Well, it’s Logan’s favorite! And not to toot my own horn, but I make a pretty mean pot pie. Come on in to the living room, you can meet Logan’s father.”
That last sentence made both Logan and Solomon’s stomachs fall.
Solomon had never met a girl’s father before. His palms began to sweat. Logan squeezed his hand for reassurance.
“He’s going to love you,” she whispered. “I hope you love him too.”
Before Solomon could reply, they were in front of the great Chuck Lowery. This was the man Logan held up as an example of the perfect human. He’d raised her and adored her. Solomon knew Chuck’s opinion was the most important opinion of all when it came to Logan.
And as soon as Solomon saw him, he wanted to cry.
Chuck Lowery was skeletal. He sat in a recliner, pillows piled up around him to help him sit up. The cancer was doing it’s worst in a quick fashion, and Solomon could hardly make eye contact with him because his appearance was so heartbreaking.
“Kiddo,” Chuck croaked out, his voice dry and hoarse. His customary loud timbre had also been beaten down by his illness. Logan walked over to him, gently wrapping her arms around him.
“Hi, Daddy,” Logan said. “I brought a guest.”
“I heard,” Chuck said, looking up at Solomon. “She tells me you’re a judoka.”
“Yes, sir,” Solomon said, putting a smile on his face. “Or at least, trying to be.”
“I’d say,” Chuck replied, holding up a newspaper. “Just read an article about you heading to Brussels for a match next month. You’re the real deal.”
Logan lit up. Her father had researched him. That was a good sign. And melted her heart.
Solomon blushed. “Thank you, sir. Yes, I have a tournament next month. It will help decide if I have a chance of going to Rio.”
Chuck smiled, the light in his eyes back for a moment. “That sounds wonderful. And Logan tells me you are hoping to represent Fiji, right?”
Solomon looked over at Logan. “Yes, sir. I hope to bring home their first Olympic medal. Though it may not happen in Rio. But maybe in 2020, when we go to Tokyo. Rio will be good practice for me.”
Chuck shook his head. “Solomon, I already like you. But may I give you one piece of advice?”
“Of course,” Solomon said. “I’d be happy to hear it.”
“Don’t go in assuming you’ll have another Olympics,” Chuck said. “We aren’t guaranteed shit in life. That’s a hard lesson I’ve had to learn recently. You go to Rio like it’s the only Olympics you’ll ever see. You take down the competition and you win, Solomon. Don’t wait for another chance that may never come. Seize the moment.” Chuck looked Solomon right in the eyes, his own having tears rimming them. “Do it for me, okay?”
Solomon tried his best to keep his composure. “Of course, sir. I’d be nothing but honored.”
Chuck smiled. “A great hero of mine said once, ‘You become what you think you are.’ Have you heard that before?”
“Yes. Muhammad Ali,” Solomon replied. “He said that. He’s one of my heroes too.”
Chuck looked over at Logan. “This one’s a good one, kiddo. Let’s keep him around a while, okay?”
Logan rolled her eyes but inside she was beaming.
She would never forget this day.
Because it was the first and only time Solomon would get to speak to her father.