Between You and Me by Jennifer Gracen (26)

Chapter Twenty-Five

Logan moved through the next two days in something of a daze. His mother’s words echoed through his mind over and over. She’d given him a lot to think about.

She’d been right. About everything.

He had spent the past decade-plus punishing himself. He’d come to a place of acceptance about the people who’d died and suffered during Katrina, but he hadn’t fully forgiven himself. It was long past time to do that and let it go. It wasn’t serving him, and dammit, it wasn’t his fault the shelter had flooded. Every building in a four-block radius had been washed out; he wasn’t God, it wasn’t his fault, there wasn’t anything more he could have done. There truly wasn’t. Way past time to let that go.

As for Rachel . . . She hadn’t been capable of giving him what he needed when he needed it most. He knew that. But it didn’t mean he wasn’t worthy of love and devotion. It meant she wasn’t right for him, that was all. He had forgiven her for leaving, but . . . he’d never forgiven himself for choosing the wrong person. For being wrong about her, and feeling foolish for trusting and loving her. He had, and there was no shame in that. It didn’t mean he couldn’t, or shouldn’t, love someone that way again.

And the Universe was laughing at him, because guess what? He already did.

And Tess cared about him too. He knew that. They’d connected, in a deep, true way that defied labels or explanation. If he didn’t try to act on that, or at least tell her how he really felt, Annmarie was right. He’d regret it for the rest of his life.

But he’d hurt her deeply with his callous remarks in their last talk. He’d felt her anguish through the phone; it’d made him cringe. He had to fix it. He had to reach out . . .

First, however, was dinner with his mom. He got to her condo at five. Giving Richie some of his houses had been the right move, it freed up his schedule. He’d have plenty of time to work more hours after his mom was gone. For now, being able to see his mom every day was what he needed to do.

“Hi,” he called out as he let himself into her place.

“Hi,” she called back feebly. He could barely hear her.

He walked into the living room. She was on the couch, under three heavy quilts, her face pale. The TV blared the news; he grabbed the remote to mute it, then knelt beside her. She didn’t look good. “Hey there.” He put his hand against her cheek. She felt warm. “You okay?”

“I’m just cold,” she said. “Couldn’t get warm today.” She shivered hard.

He swore under his breath, then said to her, “I think you have a fever, Mom. Let me make you some tea. We’ll warm you up.”

“Wait, before you do . . . look.” She pointed across to the armchair and smiled. “I got a gift today.”

“What?” Too worried to care about a gift, he glanced over at the chair in annoyance. Then stopped cold. It was a painting. “What is that?”

“Your lovely girlfriend sent it to me. It’s wonderful, isn’t it?” Annmarie’s tired eyes crinkled at the corners as she smiled. “Look closer at it.”

Logan went to the chair and picked up the canvas to study it. It was about a foot square. He knew Tess loved to paint, but she’d never let him watch her paint. He’d only seen pictures of her work on her phone, once he’d convinced her to show them to him. She’d been afraid to share them; too humble. Also, it was too intimate a thing to reveal that piece of herself to anyone. But she’d shown him.

“It’s really good,” he murmured as his eyes caressed the canvas. Greens, blues, browns, white . . . “You know what this is?” he asked, turning back to his mother. “It’s the view outside her house. Up on Red Mountain.”

“I thought so.”

“That house is crazy gorgeous—the whole back wall, from the ground floor to the top, is glass. Like a big panoramic window instead of a wall. And this is the view. She really captured it beautifully . . .” Swirls of snow, a sea of forest pines, the majesty of the mountains under a bright blue sky. And her initials, modestly small black letters in the bottom right corner. His fingers caressed them. “She sent you this?”

“It came today,” Annmarie said. “Awfully thoughtful of her.”

“Yes, it was.” He eyed a flowered card on the chair that must have been under the painting. He picked it up. “Mind if I look at this?” he asked.

“Go right ahead,” Annmarie said.

He held the small painting in one hand to read the card with the other. Tess’s handwriting was elegant and lovely, just like her.

Logan felt light-headed. Like the air in the room had evaporated.

“She calls me once a week, you know,” Annmarie said. “Has since she left.”

“I didn’t know,” he managed.

“Yup. On Mondays. Just to say hi, and check on me. When I called her today to thank her for this, she sounded so sad. She hated that she didn’t know I’d gotten worse. You and I keep shielding her from it. That’s not fair. She cares about me.”

“I know she does,” he whispered roughly.

“I apologized for shielding her and promised I wouldn’t again. She thanked me and told me, in as few dignified, tactful words as possible, that you two aren’t speaking anymore. She sounded miserable.” Annmarie shivered again. “I’m too tired to argue with you about it now. That tea sounds like a good idea. Could you please?”

Logan nodded, set down the card and painting, then willed his legs to get him into the kitchen.

Tess loved him. His mother had seen it clear as day, but he hadn’t. Maybe he would have if he hadn’t had his self-absorbed head up his own ass, as his mom had pointed out the other day. He hadn’t seen anything. Nothing but his own fears and insecurities. If he hadn’t been so wrapped up in his own crap and looked at her, he likely would’ve known. And not pushed her away, and not hurt her, and . . . crap.

He leaned against the counter for a minute, head spinning. Holy hell, she loved him. He was the luckiest man on earth if that was true. He had to ask her. Damn, he had to fix things. If he even could . . . he had to try.

But first, he had to take care of his mom. As much as his heart and soul were screaming for Tess at that moment, that came first. He put up the water to boil, then called his mother’s doctor.

 

 

Tess woke up in darkness. Her insistent bladder wouldn’t let her stay asleep. She lumbered out of bed, used the restroom, then got right back into bed. The message light on her cell phone blinked at her. She turned it over, glanced at the clock—2:32 in the morning—then burrowed into her pillows and closed her eyes. Probably one of her brothers checking on her; the three of them had hovered since learning she was pregnant. They could wait until morning. She quickly fell back to sleep.

When she opened her eyes again, it was because Bubbles had hopped onto her bed to nudge her as she snuggled. Tess smiled, affectionately stroking her dog’s soft white fur as she stretched her stiff limbs and yawned. A glance at the windows showed a sunny day outside; early spring had finally arrived. The buds on the trees were an almost neon yellow-green, so bright against the blue of the sky.

Bubbles yipped and nudged her again.

“Potty time, miss?” Tess singsonged. “You gotta go?”

Bubbles barked.

“Yeah, me too. I hear you.” She glanced at the clock. It was just past eight. She’d be working from home today, so it was all right that she’d slept so late. She took herself and Bubbles through their morning routine, then went back up to her room to get her phone and check her messages. Sitting on her bed, she saw two voice mails had come in the night before. She’d fallen asleep early, around nine, so she’d missed them both. The first one was from Lisette, inviting her over for dinner on Saturday. The second one was from Logan. She felt her blood run cold as soon as he started talking. He sounded . . . wrong.

“Hi Tess, it’s me. Um . . . I’ve been . . . uh . . . shit. Shit. I don’t know what to say. There’s so much. I just . . . Well, I’ll say the rest later, but for right now, I knew you’d want to know that my mom’s in the hospital. Went in a few hours ago. She has a high fever, she’s, um . . . It’s not good. I don’t know . . .” He paused for a long moment, long enough for Tess’s heart to stutter in her chest. His voice was raw as he said, “I wish you were here with me. I wish I could just hold you. I’m scared. I’m sad. I’m upset. And I miss you like hell.”

Tess gasped and tears sprung to her eyes.

“I just needed to hear your voice. But I guess you’re not taking my calls. I don’t blame you. I was an asshole the last time we talked, and I’m really sorry for that. But . . . man, you know what, that painting is amazing. My mom loves it. That was an incredible gift. Thank you for sending her that. Um . . .” He cleared his throat, but his voice was still gravelly as he went on. “So, yeah. She’s not good. Neither one of us are, really. I, uh . . . I need you, Tess. I want you in my life. Please don’t disappear. I’m sorry for being such a jackass. Call me soon, let’s talk this out, okay? Okay. Hope you’re feeling good. Bye.”

Sniffing back her tears, Tess jumped off the bed and ran to her bathroom. She had to shower, and she had to pack. She had to get to Logan as fast as she could.