Chapter Thirty-two
“No learner’s permit next week,” Phil told Logan after they called him down to the kitchen shortly after returning home. “And the gaming system is gone until I see an A instead of a D. Is that clear?”
“Can’t I just take the test?” Logan asked. “I don’t have to drive.”
“No,” Phil said. “We’ll talk about it again after your next report card.”
“What?” Logan’s gaze swung to Lina. “That’s, like, three months away.”
Lina gave him a sympathetic smile, hating his downtrodden expression. “If you raise your grade, you’ll still be able to get your license on time.”
“But what about the driving school? I’m already signed up.”
“Mom will call them in the morning and hopefully be able to postpone enrollment. If we lose our money, you’ll be paying for the next class. You’re better than that D and you know it.”
“Why can’t I just take the class? It’s not like I’ll be driving by myself.”
“That class is the first step to gaining your driver’s license. Driving is a privilege,” Phil said. “You haven’t earned it.”
“I got an A on my last history test. I can show you the—”
“It’s too late. We’ll talk again when you receive your next report card. Any questions?”
“If I get As on my next few tests can I have my games—”
“No,” Phil interrupted. “This isn’t a negotiation. We’ve had this discussion once already. Your gaming is done until your grade is up. Understood?”
Logan dropped his eyes. His hands were clenched together in his lap.
Phil’s gaze shifted to Lina. “Did I cover everything?”
“I think so.”
“Good.” Phil pressed his hands into his thighs as he pushed himself to his feet. “Let’s go get the games.”
“Why?” Logan frowned. “I’m not going to use them.”
“I know you’re not, because you aren’t going to have them.”
“But they’re mine.”
“Hopefully you’ll get them back in three months. Let’s go.” He nodded toward the front of the house.
“Maybe Liam will make you prouder,” Logan fumed, suddenly angry. “Maybe he’ll be a star athlete and student.”
“Stop trying to deflect. This isn’t about anyone but you, Logan. You were neglecting your schoolwork. And now you’re suffering the consequences.”
“How come you don’t have to suffer consequences? How come you can have a baby with someone else and nothing happens to you?” He slammed back his chair and came to his feet.
“Logan,” Lina warned, standing up herself. “Stop it!”
“It’s okay,” Phil said, touching Lina’s arm, his eyes remaining focused on Logan. “Let him talk. You don’t think I’ve suffered consequences?”
“No,” Logan answered. His face was red and his hands were clenched in fists at his side. “You shouldn’t even be here. Mom shouldn’t have taken you back.”
“Maybe not,” Phil said. “But she did. And even if she hadn’t, we’d still be having this conversation because I’m your father.”
“I wish you weren’t.”
“Logan.” Lina gasped.
“Everyone knows what you did. The kids at school. The kids in the neighborhood—everyone!”
“I don’t care about everyone.” Phil stepped in front of Logan when he attempted to leave the room, blocking his path. “The only person I have to answer to is your mother. Not you, not your sisters, and definitely not our neighbors. And you can wish I weren’t your father, but I am and I’m not going anywhere. And as long as you live in my house, you live by my rules. Is that clear?” His voice was level, but his eyes were narrowed and his jaw clenched.
“Whatever,” Logan mumbled, his eyes downcast.
“Look at me,” Phil ordered. “‘Whatever’ is not the proper response. I provide the roof over your head, the food on the table, and the thirty-thousand-dollars-a-year school you attend. When you’re on your own, supporting yourself, you can talk to me any way you choose. You don’t even have to talk to me. But while you live in my house you will talk to me with respect regardless of what you may feel. Is that clear?”
Lina’s heart began to beat harder as Logan continued to meet Phil’s eyes. “Logan—”
“Stay out of this, Lina,” Phil growled. “Is that clear?” he again asked Logan.
“Yes,” Logan finally answered. His chin had begun to shake, and Lina could tell he was about to cry.
“Good. And now I want your gaming equipment.”
When Logan preceded Phil from the room, Lina slumped down into her chair, letting out the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.
Even after a glass and a half of wine Lina was still feeling shaky when she went upstairs to take a bath. She was submerged up to her neck in rose-scented bubbles when Phil joined her in the bathroom, lowering himself to the edge of the tub.
He dipped a sponge into the water and began to run it over her leg. “Megan wants us to watch a movie with her.”
“He didn’t mean it. You know that.” She clasped his hand beneath the water. “He was angry.”
“I don’t know whether he meant it or not. It’s irrelevant, though, because I am his father.”
“He didn’t mean it,” she repeated.
“Will you join us? It’s her last night.”
“Phil, he—”
“I’m fine, baby. I promise. Katie desensitized me to cruel words from my children. Stop worrying about me.”
“I know his words hurt you. You don’t always have to put on this tough-man exterior.”
“But I am a tough man.” He winked at her.
She sighed, giving up discussing it with him. “I’ll be down soon. Just start without me.”
When he tried to stand, she held on to his hand. “I love you.”
He leaned in and met her lips for a long kiss. “I count on it.”
Lina found Logan in his room, sitting on the edge of his bed, staring down at his phone. “What was that about? You don’t hate your father.”
“I don’t want to talk.”
“Well, we’re going to.” She sat beside him on the bed.
“Why did he have to do it? I hate that kids know he had a baby with someone else. It’s embarrassing. Will’s mom told his dad that she would never have taken him back if he did what Dad did.”
“She said that in front of you?” She couldn’t believe it.
“No. Will told me. But she said it just the same.”
“I’m sorry. It was wrong for them to talk about us, especially when Will could hear them. I know this hasn’t been easy for you, having people gossip about us. But I’m not going to let other people’s opinions dictate our lives. I have loved your father since I was your age, and I chose to forgive him. I don’t regret that decision. Your words today hurt him. You can never take those back. He’ll probably remember them for the rest of his life. I know I would if you said them to me.”
“Okay, sorry. I was mad.”
“You’re apologizing to the wrong person. And being mad is not an acceptable excuse. You’re always responsible for the words that come out of your mouth. I was upset with you when I saw your grades. So was your dad. We didn’t say things we didn’t mean to you.”
“Sorry,” he repeated.
“I know you continued to play video games on school nights despite the fact you knew you weren’t supposed to. I didn’t tell your dad because I assumed you were doing your work. That was the wrong decision on my part. And today’s punishment—not letting you get your learner’s permit—that was my decision, not your father’s. He thought that was too harsh.” She came to her feet. “So, if you want to be mad at someone, it should be me.”
***
The next evening, the first snowstorm of the season blanketed the Baltimore area with a foot and a half of snow. Phil was up early, using the snowblower to clear the driveway. He was half finished when Logan joined him, holding out a travel cup. Phil turned off the snowblower.
“Mom made you coffee.”
Phil took the cup, immediately bringing it to his lips and taking a sip of the warm liquid. “Thank you.”
“It’s supposed to snow another six inches, according to the weather guy.”
Phil took another swallow of coffee. “At least it’s cold. The snow is light.”
“Are we going to go to Grandma’s when we’re done here?”
“I was planning to.” He doubted Drew had ever shoveled snow. “I’m going to wait for the snow to stop. Give them a chance to clear the main roads.”
“Cool.” Logan looked down at his feet.
Phil took another swallow of coffee, waiting to see what else Logan would say. It was the first real conversation they’d shared since Logan had lost his temper, and he could tell he was trying to gather the nerve to say more.
“I’m sorry for what I said,” Logan rushed out. “I didn’t mean it. I’m glad you’re my father. I don’t know why I said it. I was mad, and it just came out. I’m sorry.” There were tears swimming in his eyes when he raised his head.
“I know you didn’t.” Phil clasped his shoulders.
“I like having you as a father,” Logan said, his chin quivering. “I wouldn’t want a different one.”
“It’s okay, buddy.” Phil squeezed his shoulders. “I’m sorry you’re having to listen to people gossip about your family because of me.”
“It’s not so much anymore. It was more when school first started.” He blew out a stream of air. It was clear he was trying not to cry. “Should I start shoveling off the back deck?”
It was normally Logan’s job to clear off the deck and patio while Phil used the snowblower to clear the driveway and front walk. “Why don’t you take over for me instead?”
“Really?” Logan’s eyes widened. “You’re going to let me use the snowblower?”
“Do you think you can handle it? It’s not a toy.”
“I can definitely handle it.”
“All right. Let me show you how to use it.”
Phil spent most of the day with Logan. After clearing their property, they took Lina’s four-wheel drive to her parents’ and cleared off the driveway and sidewalks. Like Phil suspected, Drew had no interest in helping. He did have an interest in teaching though. He’d donned his winter coat, hat, and boots and joined them outside. The day’s lessons centered around snow, something he had endless experience with after his years in Chicago.
“Now, lake-effect snow is created when a cold-air mass moves across a long expanse of warmer lake water,” he explained to Logan. “The warming lower layer of air picks up water vapor from the lake and—”
That was all Phil heard before he started up the snowblower, effectively drowning Drew out.
“Grandpa talks a lot,” Logan said when they were in the SUV and headed home.
“He does,” Phil agreed. “He has a lot to say.”
“He’s kind of boring.”
Phil smiled. “Maybe you’ll appreciate him more as you get older.”
“She’s calling you,” Logan said softly. He was looking at Phil’s phone on the center console.
“Who’s call…?” Phil trailed off when he saw Kim’s name was on the display. “I’ll just let it go to voice mail.”
Logan turned to look out the window.
“How would you like to go skiing for a weekend—just the two of us?”
“Really?” Logan swung his gaze back to Phil.
“Sure. You have a three-day weekend coming up for the Martin Luther King holiday. We can fly to Utah.”
Phil checked his phone when they arrived home. Kim had left two voice messages and sent three texts. She was out of milk and diapers, was snowed in, and didn’t own a shovel. Phil found Lina in the sunroom flipping through a magazine.
“I have to go to Kim’s.”
“Now? Why?”
“She’s out of diapers and milk and has no way of getting to the store.”
“They’ve been predicting this storm for three days,” Lina said.
“I know. And I’m sure she’s manipulating me, but what in the hell am I supposed to do? I don’t want Liam to suffer.”
Lina closed her magazine and held out her hand. “Let me see your phone.”
“Why?” Phil frowned as he handed it to her.
Lina tapped in his passcode. “Because I’m calling her.” She brought the phone to her ear. “No, this is his wife. My husband is busy. I’m sure with a computer and a little money you can hire someone to assist you.” She ended the call and handed the phone back to Phil. “She’ll figure it out.”
***
“Logan, you’re going to burn yourself,” Lina warned when he tried to take a cookie off the baking pan she’d just removed from the oven. “You can wait another five minutes.”
“No, I can’t,” he said, scooping up a cookie. “Ahh, it’s hot,” he yelped, tossing the cookie from one hand to the other.
“Of course it’s hot. It just came out of the oven. Don’t put it in your mouth or you’ll burn your—Logan,” she scolded when he plopped the entire cookie into his mouth.
“So good,” he said over a mouthful of cookie.
“You’re as bad as your father.”
Logan poured himself a glass of milk before snatching two more cookies and dropping down at the kitchen island. “Dr. Drayton is dating a supermodel. Well, an ex-supermodel. Her name is Kathy Paige. Have you heard of her?”
“I have.” An image of a blonde with cat-like green eyes and flawless skin flashed in her mind.
“Brian said she’s almost as tall as his dad. He thinks she’s the one.”
Lina paused in the process of placing rolled balls of cookie dough onto a baking sheet. “Brian thinks or Dr. Drayton thinks?”
“Both, I guess. He met her in a gallery. He told Brian as soon as he saw her, he forgot all about the painting he was there to see. They’re moving in together.”
“Wow.” Lina turned back to her cookies, a warm feeling filling her chest. Nick was in love. Despite Phil’s belief otherwise, she knew Nick was a good man and she wanted him to be happy.
“How long did you date Dad before you knew you loved him?”
“I thought I loved him the moment I saw him. And I never stopped thinking it.”
“Did you feel like you almost couldn’t breathe for a second? Like all you could see was him and the world stopped?”
The warmth Lina was experiencing at the memory of meeting Phil disappeared in an instant. Logan was talking about himself. He thought he was in love. “Not exactly. And I think these feeling of insta-love aren’t even real,” she said, carefully choosing her words. “They’re more infatuation. Real love takes time to grow.”
Logan’s eyes narrowed in confusion. “But you just said you always loved Dad.”
“I know, but it could easily have fizzled out. In the beginning it was infatuation, which feels very similar to love, and then it transitioned to real love. But that’s only because we both felt the same and continually nurtured the relationship.”
“And you were my age when you met him, right?”
“I was.”
“Cool.” Logan tossed another cookie into his mouth.
“You need to talk to him and tell him he doesn’t love her,” Lina told Phil later that evening. “He’s going to get hurt.”
“He’s fifteen years old. If he gets hurt, he gets hurt. He’ll survive.” Phil reached around her and turned out her bedside lamp.
“He isn’t tough like you. He’s sensitive and introspective.”
“I’m sensitive and introspective.”
“No, you’re not. I can’t recall you ever having your feelings hurt. You just don’t care what other people think.”
“I care what you think.”
“I’m talking about people in general.”
“Why should I care what other people think?”
“That’s exactly my point. Logan’s different. Remember the time in first grade when Erin Reiner told him he was a loser?”
“No.”
“I remember how his eyes filled with tears when he told me. That’s when I first realized how sensitive he was.”
“You baby him too much. It isn’t okay for him to cry because someone says a cross word to him.”
“He was in the first grade.”
“Yeah, and you should have told him to suck it up. I wish I had been home. Your reaction probably taught him that crying about other people’s words was acceptable.”
“Oh, forget it. It’s impossible to discuss things with you when you get like this.”
“Like what?”
“Disagreeable.”
He laughed. “Because I don’t agree with you I’m disagreeable?”
“You think the way you think and act is the way all men should think and act.”
“No, just my son.”
“Good night,” she sighed.
“I’m teasing you, baby.” He kissed her forehead. “Don’t get mad.”
“It’s not funny. I was trying to have a serious conversation with you. I’m worried about him.”
“I know you see him as this fragile boy, but that’s not who he is. He has the same kind of blood pumping through his veins that I do.”