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Since Tate was meeting her at the park, Abby got there early and found a picnic table for them. When Logan came, he claimed the table directly across from hers and Abby felt the first bit of encouragement since they’d last spoken. As quickly as the feeling came, it vanished. Logan set out a tablecloth and unpacked his cooler without so much as glancing her way. Only a few feet separated her from him, but it felt as if their distance had never been greater. He gave no indication that he’d seen her. Even her weak smile had gone unacknowledged.
Soon they were joined by the others, chatting and laughing. A few men played horseshoes while the women sat and visited. The day was glorious; birds trilled their songs from the tree branches and soft music came from someone’s CD player. Busy putting the finishing touches on a salad, Abby sang along with the music. The last thing in the world she felt like doing was singing, but if she didn’t, she’d start crying.
Tate arrived and Abby could see by the way he walked that he was nervous. He’d met some of the people at the softball game. Still, he looked surprised when one of the guys called out a greeting. The two men talked for a minute and Tate joined her soon afterward.
“Hi.”
“There’s no need to be nervous,” she said, smiling at him.
“What? Me nervous?” he joked. “They’re nice people, aren’t they?”
“The best.”
“Even Logan?”
“Especially Logan.”
Tate was silent for a moment. “Like I said, I’ll see what I can do to patch things up between you two.”
Unhurriedly, she raised her gaze to his. “I’d appreciate that.”
His returning smile told her how difficult revealing his past would be. Abby hated to ask him to do it, but there didn’t seem to be any other way.
As he wandered off, Abby laced her fingers tightly and sat there, searching for Logan. He was standing alone with his back to her, staring out over the still, quiet lake.
Abby spread out a blanket between the two picnic tables and lay down on it, pretending to sunbathe. She must have drifted off, because the low-pitched voices of Tate and Logan were what stirred her into wakefulness.
“Seems to me you’ve got the wrong table,” Logan was saying. “Your girlfriend’s over there.”
“I was hoping we could talk.”
“I can’t see that there’s much to talk about. Abby’s made her decision.”
The noises that followed suggested that Logan was arranging drinks on the table and ignoring Tate as much as possible. Abby resisted the urge to roll over and see exactly what was happening.
“Abby’s a friend,” Tate said next. “No more and no less.”
“You two keep saying that.” Logan sounded bored.
“It’s the truth.”
“Sure.”
There was a rustling sound, and faintly Abby could hear Tate stumbling over the awkward words in the list of ingredients on the side of a soda can.
“What are you doing?” Logan asked.
“Reading,” Tate explained. “And for me that’s some kind of miracle. You see, until I met Abby here in the park helping Mai-Ling, I couldn’t read.”
A shocked silence followed his announcement.
“For a lot of reasons, I never properly learned,” Tate continued. “Then I found Abby. Until I met her, I didn’t know there were good people like her who’d be willing to teach me.”
“Abby taught you to read?” Logan was obviously stunned.
“I asked her not to tell anyone. I suppose that was selfish of me in light of what’s happened between you two. I don’t have any excuse except pride.”
Someone called Logan’s name and the conversation was abruptly cut off. Minutes later someone else announced that it was time to eat. Abby joined the others, helping where she could. She and Tate were sitting with Dick and Betty when she felt Logan’s eyes on her. The conversation around her faded away. The space between them seemed to evaporate as she turned and boldly met his look. In his eyes she read anger, regret, and a great deal of inner pain.
