Logan
“What are you doing here?” Alyssa asked, opening her front door, finding me standing there with a brand new door and a tool kit.
“I couldn’t help but notice the few times that I’ve come to your house that there was some work that needed to be done.”
“What are you talking about?” She smiled. “This house is the definition of perfection.”
I cocked an eyebrow, walked over to her porch railing, and pulled it straight up, seeing how nothing was securing it to the steps of the porch. She giggled. “Okay, so it’s not perfect. It’s also not your job to fix.” She bit her bottom lip. “Are you wearing a tool belt?”
“I’m definitely wearing a tool belt, which makes it my job to fix. So, if you could please step aside and let me put a door on your bathroom, that’d be great.” I spent the next six hours fixing things around her place, and she helped me hammer a few things into place. The last thing I did was climb on top of her roof, and try to patch up a few spots.
“Do you know what you’re doing?” Alyssa shouted up to me. She refused to climb up to the roof, because unlike the billboard, there was no railing of protection.
“Of course I know what I’m doing,” I shouted back.
“But how?”
I turned to her and gave her a sly smile. “I saw a documentary once on roofing.”
Her eyes bugged out and her hands waved back and forth. “Nope. Nope. Get down, Logan Francis Silverstone. Now! Watching a documentary does not make you a professional.”
“No, but the tool belt does!”
“Logan.”
“Alyssa.”
“Lo.”
“High.”
“Get down, now. Come get some water. Just… I’ll hire a person to check out the roof, okay? Then you won’t feel like you have to fix it.”
I chuckled and started climbing down the ladder. “Good. Because I had no clue what the heck I was doing.”
Once my feet hit the ground, she shoved me hard, and narrowed her eyes. “Don’t be an idiot like that ever again. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Pinky?” she asked.
I wrapped my pinky with hers, pulling her closer to me. My heart started racing from the small touch, and I studied her trembling lips as she stared at my mouth. “Pinky.”
We stood close to one another, somehow growing closer and closer as each moment passed. I felt her lips slightly touch mine, but we weren’t kissing. We were simply somehow turning two people into one, taking in each other’s breaths.
“Lo?” she whispered, her air brushing against my skin.
“Yes?”
“We should stop standing so close now.”
“Okay.”
She nodded once, and stepped back. “Okay.” She ran her fingers through her hair, and gave me a tight grin. “You should go get some water or something. You’ve been working like crazy. I’m just going to my bedroom to take a breath, or five for a minute.”
I agreed and headed to the kitchen for a glass of water. I wondered if she felt everything for me that I felt for her whenever she stood near me. I wondered if she had to fight off the feeling of longing as much as I had to.
As I opened her refrigerator, I paused, seeing all of the fresh foods she had. “Did you just go grocery shopping?” I hollered toward her bedroom.
“Yeah, I went yesterday.”
My mind started racing, looking at the vegetables and uncooked sausage. I opened her cabinets, searching. “Do you mind if I make something really quick?”
“No. Go for it. Anything is up for grabs.”
Awesome.
I started moving things around, grabbing pots and pans. Within minutes, chicken broth was heating on her stove, and I began chopping up mushrooms and fresh garlic.
“I gotta say, when you said you wanted to make something really quick, I thought you meant like a Hot Pocket.” Alyssa smiled.
“Sorry,” I breathed out, standing at her stove, browning the sausage in a pan. “Jacob offered me a job at his restaurant. But he’s forcing me to perfect three dishes before he gives me the job. And he’s being a total dick about it, turning down each thing I bring him. So I was going to test some of the food off on you if that’s okay.”
Her eyes widened with pleasure. “Oh my God, I haven’t had a Logan meal in forever. I will gladly be your guinea pig. What are we making?”
“Risotto,” I replied.
“Doesn’t that take a while?”
“Yup.”
She didn’t know that I was watching her from the corner of my eye, but she smiled. I smiled knowing she was smiling.
We spoke about random things as I stood by the stove, stirring the rice with the broth. “So you’re thinking about opening a piano bar?”
“Yeah, well, seriously thinking about it. Remember when we were kids and talked about it?”
“LoAly?”
“AlyLo,” she corrected with a smirk. “Yeah. I mean, I wouldn’t name it that seeing how that was kind of our thing, but I don’t know. It’s just a dream. That’s all.”
“A good dream, which you should make a reality.”
She shrugged, folding her arms on the table, and resting her head on top of them. “Maybe. We’ll see. My friend Dan has shown me a few different properties that might work. I know it’s too soon to be looking at buildings and stuff, but it’s just fun. Seeing the places makes the dream seem a little closer.”
After the risotto was done, I put it on the plate and set it in front of Alyssa. She grinned from ear to ear, clapping her hands like crazy. “Oh my God, it’s happening! I know I missed you, Logan. But I think I missed your food even more.”
“Fair enough. Now here.” I handed her a spoon. “Eat up.”
She dug in quickly, and when it met her lips and she began chewing, she frowned.
“What? What is it??” I asked, my voice heightened.
“Nothing, it’s just not…amazing?”
“What? There’s nothing wrong with this dish.”
Her lips parted and she nodded. “Yes there is.”
“No. There isn’t. Look. The sausage is cooked flawlessly. The mushrooms roasted perfect. The perfect blend of seasonings, remarkable. This is a freaking perfect dish.”
She frowned and shrugged her shoulders. “I mean, it’s okay. For what it is.”
I huffed. For what it is? Alyssa had a lot of nerve. “There’s nothing wrong with this dish.”
“There is.”
“No, there isn’t.”
“It’s,” she bit her bottom lip, made a wavering back and forth gesture with her hands, and shrugged once more. “Bland.”
“Bland?!”
“Bland.”
“You just,” I took a deep inhale and exhaled hard. “Did you just call my food bland?”
“I did. Because it is.”
I placed my hands on the edge of the table and leaned into her, extremely annoyed. “I’ve been cooking since I was a kid. I’ve been cooking this dish for three years straight through culinary school. I could make this food in my goddamn sleep and it would taste like something I’d feed to the president. My food isn’t bland. My food is flavorful, and delicious. And you are just nuts!” I hollered.
“Why are you yelling?” she whispered.
“I don’t know!”
She laughed, making me want to kiss her. “Logan… Try the food.”
I grabbed the spoon from her hand. Diving into the dish, I tossed the warm risotto into my mouth. The moment it hit my lips, I spit it back out onto her plate. “Oh my gosh, that tastes like ass.”
She nodded, apologetically. “When I said it was bland, I was being polite.”
My shoulders slumped, and I fell against the ground. “How did I start sucking at cooking? That was the one thing I was good at.”
“You don’t suck at cooking. You just lost your passion, probably. Don’t worry, we can find it. If you come back tomorrow, I’ll help you try to cook something else. We??
?ll keep trying until you perfect three dishes that Jacob could never turn down.”
“You’d do that for me?”
“Of course.”
We stayed up that night, eating disgusting risotto and remembering what it felt like to be happy with one another. For the following two weeks, I showed up at her house, and we cooked and cooked, until we found three dishes that tasted like heaven. It felt good to be around her, it felt free. We talked, laughed, and made messes. It felt like all those years ago, when all we did was laugh with one another. Alyssa coached me through perfecting every single one of my dishes, and I was so thankful that she had.
I sat the final chocolate cake in front of her, and she moaned before it even hit her lips. “Moaning over my cake before you’ve even tasted it?” I asked.
“Definitely moaning over your cake before I’ve even tasted it.” She opened her mouth, and I grabbed a fork, scooped up some cake, and placed it in her mouth. As she began chewing, she moaned louder. “Oh my God, Logan.”
I beamed with pride. “If I had a dollar for every time I’ve heard that.”
“You’d have no dollars, and no cents,” she mocked. “No. Seriously, you have to try this,” she said, but instead of getting a fork for me, she dived her hand into the cake, and shoved it into my face. “Isn’t that good?” She giggled like a five-year-old as I wiped chocolate from my eyes, nose, and mouth.
“Oh yeah. It’s so good. I bet you want more,” I said. Right as she went to dash, I wrapped my arm around her waist and pulled her close to me. With my free hand I scooped up cake and shoved it into her mouth. She squeaked.
“Logan! I can’t believe you,” she laughed, smearing her chin against my chin, rubbing it deeper into my slight five o’clock shadow. “It’s in my hair!”
“It’s in my nostrils!” I replied, shaking it from my face the best I could, laughing at the sound of her laughs.
We kept snickering for a while until the moment passed. My hand was still wrapped around her, and when our sounds ceased, our heartbeats increased.
I’m falling in love with you.
My mind was so flooded from missing Alyssa for all those years, that I almost forgot why I had to miss her. Because loving me is dangerous. Change the subject.
I took a step backward, releasing my grip on her. “Alyssa.”
“Yeah?”
“You have a guitar in your bedroom, do you play?”
She wavered back and forth with her hands. “Kind of. It helps keep me creative. I’m okay at it, nowhere near as good as I am with the piano.”
“Kellan’s been unable to play. His hands are shaky, and he sometimes forgets his own lyrics. I can tell it’s eating him up.”
She frowned. “I can only imagine what that’s like. Being unable to do what you love.”
“Yeah. I was wondering, I know you said you’re not great at playing, but can you teach me? Can you teach me whatever you can so I can maybe play for him?”
“There it is again.” She breathed out a small sigh.
“There what is?”
“The small glimpse of the boy I used to love.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
Logan
The next week, I brought Alyssa with me as I sat in Jacob’s restaurant for my final examination of food. Seeing how she was my inspiration behind the dish, it felt right that she’d be the one sitting beside me as Jacob told me to piss off and find a new line of work. Crisp-Tender Roast Duck with a raspberry-rosemary sauce, roasted fingerling potatoes dressed with olive oil and seasonings, and garlic Brussel sprouts.
My heart was pounding in my chest as I stared at Jacob make the same mundane facial expression as he chewed. Alyssa’s foot tapped nervously beside me and she chewed on her shirt collar, which made me smile. I didn’t know who was more worried about the duck not meeting Jacob’s standards—Alyssa or me.
“You have to dip the duck into the sauce!” Alyssa chimed in before going back to chewing on her shirt. “Oh! And the Brussel sprouts. Dip the Brussel sprouts in the raspberry sauce, too!”
He did as she said, and I cringed watching. He placed his fork down, sat back in the booth and a small smile graced his lips. “Well, fuck me sideways, that’s good.”
A bit of confidence found me. “Yeah?”
“No. Like—it’s good. Like out of the world, best-thing-I’ve-ever-eaten-good.” He went back to spooning more into his mouth. “Holy shit. Whatever you did to this dish, I want you to do to my menu each and every day you come into work.”
“So… I got the job?”
“Keep cooking like that and you can have the whole restaurant,” he laughed. Then he grew serious, pointing a finger at me. “That was a joke. The restaurant isn’t for sale.”
I laughed. “Well, the job is good enough for now.”
Pride filled me up inside, and I almost burst. Alyssa was beaming from left to right as she reached out, tossing her hands around me. “I knew it!” she whispered against my ear. “I knew you could do it.”
I breathed in her peach shampoo.
“All right, children, break it up. Go out and celebrate tonight. Logan, you start on Monday.”
We all stood up and Jacob went for a handshake, but I scooped him up into a bear hug and spun him around in circles before kissing his forehead. “Thanks, Jacob.”
“Anytime, friend.”
As Alyssa and I went to leave, I paused. “Oh yeah, Jacob, wait.” I reached into my back pocket and pulled out a piece of paper with the recipe for my hair mask.
He snickered. “Were you holding out on giving me the recipe until I gave you the job?”
“There might have been a small possibility that I was holding off until you gave me the job.”
He nodded, proud. “I would have done the same thing.”
***
Alyssa and I stayed out on the town for the remainder of the night, celebrating me getting my first official chef job. We ended up in a cheap diner with hamburgers and French fries stacked in front of us, taking on the battle of who could eat the most without getting sick.
I felt like for the first time, I was happy again.
But I should’ve known it wouldn’t have lasted long. Because after the highs always, always, came the lows.
“You eat here too, son?” was heard from behind me, and my jaw clenched. I turned to see my father smiling my way like the asshole he was. He had his arm around a girl, and when I locked eyes with her, I saw the fear resting in her stare. My mind flashed back to the night I first saw those eyes.
“Do you know how beautiful your eyes are?” I asked, changing the subject. I softly began kissing her neck, listening to her softly moan.
“They’re just green.”
She was wrong. They were a unique shade of celadon, holding a bit of gray and a touch of green to them. “A few years back, I was watching a documentary on Chinese and Korean pottery. Your eyes are the color of the glaze they used to make pottery.”
“Hey,” I swallowed hard, tearing my stare away from Sadie. “What’s up?”
“What’s up?” he echoed. “You say what’s up as if the last time you saw me you didn’t try to start a fight.”
Alyssa was holding her purse close to her, and I could see the panic in her stare. She was terrified, the same way Sadie looked. The same way most women appeared when they were near my dad. “Look, I don’t want any trouble,” I said, my voice low.
“Oh, so now I’m trouble?” he snickered, talking loud because he wanted everyone to notice our interaction. That was the kind of person he was, the showoff. He stepped in closer to me as I sat, hovering a few inches above me. “Don’t forget the person who took you and your mom in all those years ago, Logan,” he growled, somewhat as a threat.
He stared at me with hate in his eyes for a few seconds before he smirked big and patted me on the back. “I’m just fucking with you, buddy. Can we sit? Can we join you?” He didn’t wait for a reply before sliding into the booth beside Alyssa.
&nb
sp; Alyssa tensed up, and appeared seconds away from crying. I took her hand in mine, lightly squeezed her fingers, and pulled her closer to me.
I wanted to ditch the place, and take Alyssa home. I hated how my father made women’s skin crawl out of fear.
“This is my girl Sadie,” he said, wrapping his hand tightly around her waist, pulling her into him.
I cringed, feeling my temper building, but tried not to let it get to me. I held my hand out to Sadie for a handshake. “Nice to meet you,” I offered. She didn’t extend her hand, and she broke her eye contact.
Ricky spoke for her. “Oh no, no, no. No touching.” His voice was drenched in the same threatening manner that it always was when he spoke to Ma. He thought it meant something that he was a big powerful dick, so he belittled women as a way of feeling strong.
It just made him look weak to me.
“Sadie doesn’t really like to be touched by other men, do you, Sadie?” Dad said.
She didn’t reply, because he wouldn’t let her. If I hadn’t spoken to her that one night, I would’ve assumed she was mute, seeing how she hadn’t spoken one word since I saw her in the diner.
“Do you need something, Ricky?” I asked him, growing more and more upset.
He tossed his hands up in defense. “Whoa there, stranger. I just wanted to say hi.” His cell phone went off, and he glanced at Sadie. “Gotta take this. Don’t move.” He stood up, and headed outside to take the call.
My stare shot to Sadie. “What the hell are you doing with him? Is that the boyfriend you were talking about?”
“I—I didn’t know…” her voice was shaky. “I saw you at the train station after I tried to leave him, and I wanted to tell you. But I knew it’d only make more trouble. I want to leave him, but every time I try, he sends people to find me. I can’t…”
“Does he hurt you?” I asked. Her stare fell to the ground.
I dug into my back pocket and I pulled out my wallet, scrambling to get money. “Here. Take this. Go get on the closest bus, and get away from him.”
Alyssa’s eyes studied mine, but she didn’t ask what was going on. Her hand landed on my leg for comfort the whole time.