“Logan?” My head jerked back in surprise as I was confronted by him. It struck me then, too, just how much I’ve been thinking about him since the day before. I felt a flush run up my neck, and quickly pushed past him.

“Where’s Mom?” I asked, glancing around. I couldn’t see her anywhere. I turned to him, hands on hips, covering up how thrown I was with a stern expression.

“She just went out to pick up some stuff,” he shrugged. “Said she’ll be back soon. I offered to go but she asked me to stay and help her sort out some stuff in the garden.”

I eyed him suspiciously for a moment - but then what else was I meant to do?

Mom had told me herself what a help he’s been, and here he was, the day after the funeral, putting his money where his mouth was and lending a hand.

Mom had a little allotment out back, and I knew that she had been having trouble keeping up with it in recent months.

“I was just coming in for a drink,” he gestured to the glass of water on the sideboard.

“Do you want a hand out there?” I asked without thinking. I knew the allotment well. Mom had forced me out there as part of my weekly chores often enough. My expertise might as well come in useful to somebody.

“Uh, sure,” he smiled at me curiously, downing the last of his water and gesturing for me to head out the back door first. “I’m sure you know it better than I do.”

I led the way and leaned up against the shovel that had been shoved into the earth of the vegetable patch. A few weeds had started to sprout, and he was digging them out by the roots.

I handed him the shovel, got down on my knees, and did my best to yank out the offending plants by the roots.

“Well-practiced, huh?” He asked with a small laugh in his voice, and I shrugged.

“It’s a natural talent,” I glanced up at him, lifting my hand so I could shield my face from the sun and smile. There was something easy about his presence, something that made me feel comfortable.

I couldn’t put my finger on it, but as he went back to work, I found myself distracted trying to figure out what it was.

We worked in silence for a while, until I felt sweat begin to bead on my forehead and wondered why Mom was taking so long - she had probably bumped into someone she knew down at the store and was lost deep in conversation by now.

If that was the case, we’d be lucky to see her back by the end of the week. But, instead of feeling awkward in his company, I found myself curiously drawn to Logan, a part of me demanding to know what he was doing here and why he was still hanging around.

Was it some kind of community service he hadn’t disclosed to my Mom that he was passing off as basic kindness? Maybe - it would explain a lot, based on what I’ve known about him in high school.

Still, as I looked up at him working the shovel, this seemed above and beyond basic requirement.

“What is it?” He cocked his head at me, finally noticing my eyes on him. I quickly looked away, got to my feet, and dusted the dirt from my hands.

It was dry and crumbly, falling from my fingers in chunks and landing in little piles around my feet.

“Shall we get another drink? Mom keeps some sweet tea in the refrigerator in case of emergency,” I suggested. He shrugged.

“Sounds great.”

I went inside, poured us both a glass from the giant jug that sat inside the refrigerator, and carefully carried them back into the garden.

I handed him one and he leaned on his shovel as he took a sip, looking as the good ol’ southern boy. I smiled with amusement at the image.

“What are you laughing at?” He demanded good-naturedly.

“You just look very…down home, like that,” I gestured up and down his stance, and he glanced down and laughed.

“Guess I kinda do,” he conceded. We paused for a moment, the silence hanging in the air between us. I knew that if I had questions, I had to ask them now before Mom got home, else she’d kick me out for being rude.

“Uh, Logan,” I started, scuffing my foot back and forth across the dirt. “Why did you…why were you helping out Mom and Dad? You know, with all this…stuff?”

He sighed loudly, and I worried that I’ve pissed him off - but as soon as I looked at his face, I could see it was etched with pain rather than the annoyance.

“My dad,” he began, slowly, as though these were words that had never passed his lips before. “He died when I was in juvie.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” I replied, an automatic reaction, but one that I meant. He shook his head.

“It’s okay,” he murmured, narrowing his eyes as he glanced out in the direction of the setting sun. “I just…I felt so bad about it. I missed everything - supporting him, being there for the family. They never really forgave me. Neither did I.”

He spoke in a matter-of-fact tone about such a serious subject, and it threw me off-guard.

I couldn’t take my eyes off him as he spoke, the way the sun danced off the sharpness of his jaw, the sweet tea sending a dazzling shiver of sparkles up his arm.

“I would have done anything to be there for him, but I just couldn’t be,” he shook his head. “I…your Dad was always kind to me when I saw him out and about, and when I heard that he was sick, I guess I saw a chance to…to help in a way I couldn’t have before.”

“Oh,” I murmured. It made sense. I remembered when his Dad had died. I didn’t know the family, but Mom sent me around with a casserole for the freezer.

The house was quiet and still, and I didn’t remember him being there. I wondered if he’s even been allowed to the funeral, but thought it is rude to ask.

“I didn’t want to intrude on anything,” he remarked softly, looking at me apologetically. I realized that he was directing that comment at me, and shook my head at once.

“No, no, not at all,” I replied. “I didn’t even know you were here. I’m just glad there’s someone around for Mom.”

“They were both welcoming to me,” he looked towards the house and smiled fondly. “And they spoke a lot about you, as well.”

“And you agreed to be left alone with me?” I joked.

He looked down at me, eyebrows raised.

“He’s your Dad. He only had good things to say about you,” he shrugged. “Well, apart from your boyfriends. He never much seemed to like any of them.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.” Before we could exchange any more conversations, Mom’s voice came from inside the house.

“Hey, you two!”