Page 25 of Twisted Love

“Hey, dinner smells good.” He opened his arms as she stood up from the couch and walked over to him.

“Need a hug?” She asked before she could draw the words back in.

“I think I do today. I don’t know how you stood being married to that man for so long.” He grumbled a bit but kissed the top of her head. “I have to give you more credit, just for that.”

“Well, a lot of self-delusion and playing an ostrich did the trick most of the time.” She scoffed as she pulled away and went to check the timer on the oven to see how much longer the lasagna needed. “It was when he dropped his pants on live television that I finally had to admit a lot to myself.”

“I guess we all lie to ourselves about some things, sometimes.” He answered carefully. “Salad?”

“Yes, it’s made and ready to go out. This has a few more minutes and it will be done.” Time had flown while she hunted down pageant organizers and emailed them. “Fresh French bread or do you want me to toast it with garlic?”

“Fresh is fine.” He answered. “My mom used to make me lasagna on the weekend and freeze it, you know? She made a lot of meals for me, then she’d freeze them, and I just had to bake them when I got home.”

“Oh?” She answered just as carefully, wanting him to go on, but she also didn’t want to push. He’d just clam up, she’d learned that much about him.

“Yeah, she worked first shift, so she’d be home, but most of the time, she’d be so tired after a day working in a plastic products factory that she’d go to bed exhausted. It was really hot in that place. Dad worked at the same place, but on second shift, so I rarely saw him either. We did have a lot of plastic cups and straws though, I have to admit.” He laughed a little and began to set the table.

“Oh? There used to be a plastic factory here somewhere. I think it shut down years ago though. Everyone said it was like working in hell.” The timer went off on the oven as she spoke, and she went about pulling the tray out.

“It could be, especially in the summer. It was more tolerable in the winter. They live in California now, up north in the mountains. They love it there.”

“Oh, that sounds nice. I’ve heard it’s beautiful up there. Over there. Or is it both?” She looked at him as she set the lasagna on a placemat and went back to get the salad and some dressing from the fridge.

Logan grabbed the French bread from the counter and took it to the table to cut it up. “Both, I guess. It’s nice. They have a house up in the mountains, a swimming pool, and their privacy. They’re happy.”

“Do you see them often?” She prompted, hoping he’d go on while she served the lasagna onto plates. He never talked about his family.

“They worked hard when I was a kid and I rarely saw them. When I had the money, I bought their house for them, help them out every month, but we were never really that close. I go see them once or twice a year.” He shrugged and took the plate she offered. “Thanks.”

“My pleasure.” And it was, hearing him talk about himself for a change was a real pleasure.

“No siblings?” It seemed a strange question to be asking all this time later, but that’s how Logan preferred it. Now, he’d opened up a little and she wanted to see how far he was willing to go.

“No, they were smart about that. They had me and that was enough. I’m not sure they even wanted me really. Not that I pity myself or anything, it was just they never really seemed to care if I was around, you know? I’d go off and read a book or play something on the computer and they’d leave me in peace while they did their own thing. They had me right out of high school, they didn’t even know who they were yet, so I guess it’s not that big of a surprise they realized they didn’t really want a kid after all.”

“Hmm.” She paused, thinking about everything he’d just revealed. He’d had a lonely childhood, felt unwanted by his parents, and had little contact with them. And he thought they didn’t want him. “Maybe they just thought they were respecting your privacy?”

“Maybe.” He answered and they both went quiet while they ate.

Keily didn’t want to lose the moment though and as she took her last bite, decided to try another question. “I think it’s different with boys, you know? Parenting? With girls parents are always trying to teach us how to be proper young women, and all that cooking and cleaning nonsense. With boys it’s motorcycles, playing outside, learning how to fix cars and lawnmowers, things like that. I bet they just thought you were doing what you wanted to and left you alone to do it.”

“Maybe.” He repeated, but then shook his head. “I think they were just too tired, most of the time. Dad worked even on the weekends when he could, so he paid a guy to mow the grass, and Mom was always cooking meals on the weekend, and reading in bed when I came home from school. Even during the winter months, when it was cooler, she’d make meals on the weekends, so she didn’t have to bother during the week. Or she gave me money to order pizza or something.”

“It doesn’t sound like the happiest of childhoods.” She mumbled, picking up their plates to wash the dishes. “I guess we both had shitty parents to deal with.”

“I have to say, your mom sounds a lot worse,” Logan replied, going to put the leftover lasagna to cool on the stovetop and put the salad away. “Mine didn’t steal from me, at least.”

“Oh, I forgot I told you about that.” She felt her cheeks burn and couldn’t look at him. She had forgotten she’d told him and now she was ashamed of her mother. “No wonder I turned out to be such a bitch, right?”

“Nah, you’re not a bitch, Keily.” He stood close to brush hair away from her face with solemn eyes and a soft smile. That soft smile turned into a huge grin before he spoke again. “At least, not anymore.”

“Oh, you bastard!” She pushed him away gently and handed him a dish towel. “Dry the plates and shut up.”

“Yes, ma’am, but then I have to go. I have to make a call later and I can’t be here, being distracted by you so I’m heading back to my place. That okay?”

“Sure, yeah, it’s fine. I’ll call Rosa, have her come over.” She nodded but felt disappointed. She’d miss him but knew if he stayed, he’d have her naked and they’d both forget the world existed.

“Thanks for dinner.” He said once they’d cleaned up and put everything away. “I hate to go, but I have to make that call.”