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CHAPTERSEVEN
Logan
Ispotted Dad’s car in the parking lot as I pulled up to the diner, even though I’d arrived fifteen minutes early. How long had he been waiting inside for me already? Was he that intent on squeezing every possible second he could get out of our lunches together?
It sounded like something he would do. And I couldn’t even blame him. It wasn’t as if I gave him all that much of my time these days.
A pang of guilt ran through my chest, but I shook it off. The distance was necessary for his good as much as mine. Maybe even more his. If I hadn’t thought it’d send him into a panic, I’d have forced myself to cut him off completely.
There was no reason that the darker side of my life should ever have to infect his.
My smartwatch vibrated on my wrist. Without even looking at it, I reached into my glove compartment where I kept one of my various stashes of pills. It was better to have them on hand wherever I happened to be, since the timing was important.
I tossed back the single pill I was down to with a gulp of water, suppressing my irritation. It sucked being chained to this routine, knowing that my survival depended on following it. The doctors had said I might be able to wean off the immunosuppressants completely one day, that there were other liver transplant recipients who’d managed it without major issues, but so far they hadn’t felt confident enough at my periodic check-ups to give me the go-ahead.
I might be willing to take a lot of risks, but messing around with the extension I’d already been lucky to get on my natural expiration date wasn’t one of them.
Taking the pill only took a moment, and then I could pretend to forget that anything about me was remotely broken—at least physically—until the next time that alarm went off.
I gave myself another several seconds to gather the good spirits I’d need to show Dad to make sure he didn’t have a panic attack even though hewasseeing me, and then stepped out of the car. The greasy smell of the diner’s decadent burgers wafted through the parking lot as I headed for the door.
It wasn’t my favorite restaurant, but Dad loved it—and it was continuing a tradition we’d established a few years after my transplant when my health had settled into a sort of equilibrium. Once a month, Dad would take me out for a “cheat meal”—something fatty or greasy or sugary that the doctors wouldn’t have approved of as a regular part of my diet. Just an occasional treat, a reminder that I didn’t have to give those indulgences up completely.
I’d savored those moments as a kid. These days, it didn’t matter as much to me, but it made Dad happy. So I went along with it. It was one little gift I could give him. I sure as hell owed him something.
Warmth washed over me on my way into the diner. It was a small space, room for maybe thirty people around eight tables at full capacity. Retro Coca-Cola signs and records hung on the walls. It was old-school in operation too—you had to go to the counter to order, and then the server would bring the meal to your table and take care of things from there. I paused just long enough to ask for my usual and point out where I’d be sitting.
Dad was seated at our usual table at the back near one of the windows, his hands cupped around a mug of steaming coffee. I strode over, pushing my mouth into a smile, forcing my mind to empty of all the things I couldn’t tell him.
We’d have long conversations—we always did—but I wouldn’t mention anything about the Vigil or my recent extracurriculars. My dad would know me as a hard-working engineering student and nothing more. I could tell him about my midterms, about hanging out with Slade and Dexter when we weren’t getting into trouble, and about the overall campus life. That was it.
That was how it had to be.
Dad’s head came up at my approach, and he beamed at me so brightly that a sharper pang reverberated through me. He loved me so goddamn much, but he had no idea who I even was these days.
He slid out of the booth and opened his arms to me, and I allowed him to wrap me in his embrace. I hugged him back, giving myself over to the show of affection just for a moment.
I owed him this too. And part of me welcomed the gesture even if it made me uncomfortable at the same time.
Every time we hugged, I felt as if his arms had shrunk and mine expanded. I was a little taller than him now and definitely bulkier from my regular workouts. Did he even notice, or did he still feel like he was hugging the little boy I used to be?
Did he believe that he knew the man he hugged? From where I stood, he didn’t. He barely knew a thing about me anymore.
“Always good to see you, bud,” he said as he released me, still smiling away. “I’m glad we can still make time for these get-togethers.”
“Always,” I assured him. I sat down across from him, focusing all my thoughts on the subjects it was safe to talk about. “How’ve you been? Is the merger still working out okay?” His accounting firm had recently absorbed another smaller company, and Dad had spent some time running around getting everyone settled into the new organizational structure. I didn’t think it was really part of his job, but he was the kind of guy who couldn’t help making sure everyone was at ease.
“Oh, everyone seems pretty comfortable now,” Dad said, sounding pleased. “Those kinds of transitions are always tough at first, but we’ve brought on some really great talent. And we made it through the busiest part of tax season without anyone having a nervous breakdown, so that’s always a win.” He winked at me to show he was joking about the breakdown thing. “Did you wrap up that big engineering project?”
I nodded. “Turned in my papers last week. Haven’t gotten them back yet, but I feel good about how it came together. I used a lot of the concepts the prof’s been harping on, so he should be impressed anyway.”
The truth was that I didn’t care all that much about my studies other than how they could help advance my other activities, but keeping the authorities at school happy meant they didn’t examine those other activities too closely.
Dad chuckled. “Always smart to play to the teacher’s interests. Good for you.” He paused, turning the mug in his hands. “I was just telling Lindsay about the sorts of things you’ve been working on, and I realized I couldn’t explain most of the details. She’s got more of a mind for the science and tech stuff than I do. Someday you’ll have to fill her in properly.”
It was a subtle hint that he’d like me to stop by the house—sooner rather than later—and reconnect with more of the family. As much as I could consider the stepmother I’d gotten at sixteen years old a family member, even if Madelyn’s mom was the best thing that’d happened to my dad since Mom’s death years before. But Dad knew better than to push too hard, and his hints were easy to ignore as if I hadn’t caught his full meaning.
“The next time I see her, I’ll give her the full scoop,” I said noncommittally. The next time I saw her would quite possibly not be until next Christmas, but I didn’t have to clarify that.
