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“The business is more than I ever thought I’d have.”
“But something’s stopping you?” Abby could sense this more from his tension than from what he said.
“Yes.” The stark emotion in his voice startled her.
“Are you worried about not having graduated from high school? Because, Tate, you can now. There’s a program at the community center where I take painting classes. You can get what they call a GED—General Education Diploma, I think is what it means. Anyway, all you need to do is talk to a counselor and—”
“That’s not it.” Tate interrupted her harshly and ran a hand across his brow.
“Then what is it?” Abby asked, her smile determined.
Tate hesitated until the air between them was electric, like a storm ready to explode in the muggy heat.
“Where are you going with this discussion? What can I do to help? I don’t understand.” One minute Tate was exposing a painful part of his past, and the next he was growling at her. What was it with men? Something had been bothering him all evening. First he’d been restless and uneasy, then brooding and thoughtful, now angry. Nothing made sense.
And it wasn’t going to. Abruptly, he asked her if she was ready to leave.
He hardly said a word to her when he dropped her off at her apartment.
For a moment, Abby was convinced he’d never ask her out again.
“What about Sunday?” he finally said. “We can bring a picnic.”
“Okay.” But after this evening, Abby wasn’t sure. He didn’t sound as if he really wanted her company. “How about three o’clock?”
“Fine.” His response was clipped.
Again he gave her a modest kiss, more a light brushing of their mouths than anything passionate or intense. Not a real kiss, in her opinion.
She leaned against the closed door of her apartment, not understanding why Tate was bothering to take her out. It seemed apparent that his interest in her wasn’t romantic—although she didn’t know what it actually was, didn’t know what he wanted or needed from her. And for that matter, the bone-melting effect she’d experienced at their first meeting had long since gone. Tate was a handsome man, but he wasn’t what she’d expected.
Maybe the grass wasn’t so green after all.
—
After a restless Sunday morning, Abby decided that she’d go for a walk in the park. Logan often did before he came over to her place, and she hoped to run into him. She’d make a point of letting him know that their meeting was pure coincidence. They’d talk. Somehow she’d inform him—casually, of course—that things weren’t working out as she’d planned. In fact, yesterday, during her lesson with Mai-Ling, Tate didn’t come to the park, and she’d secretly been relieved. Despite today’s picnic, she suspected that their romance was over before it could really start. And now she had doubts about its potential, anyway. Hmm. Maybe she’d hint to Logan that she missed his company. That should be enough to break the ice without either of them losing their pride. And that was what this came down to—pride.
The park was crowded by the time Abby arrived. Entering the grounds, she scanned the lawns for him and released a grateful sigh to find that he was sitting on a park bench, reading. By himself. To her relief, Patty wasn’t with him.
Deciding on her strategy, Abby stuck her hands in her pockets and strolled down the paved lane, hoping to look as if she’d merely come for a walk in the park. Their meeting would be by accident.
Abby stood about ten feet away, off to one side, watching Logan. She was surprised at the emotion she felt just studying him. He looked peaceful, but then he always did. He was composed, confident, in control. Equal to any situation. They’d been dating for almost a year and Abby hadn’t realized that so much of her life was interwoven with Logan’s. She’d taken him for granted until he was gone, and the emptiness he’d left behind had shocked her. She’d been stupid and insensitive. And heaven knew how difficult it was for her to admit she’d been wrong.
For several minutes Abby did nothing but watch him. A calm settled over her as she focused on Logan’s shoulders. They weren’t as broad or muscular as Tate’s, but somehow it didn’t matter. Not now, not when she was hurting, missing Logan and his friendship. Without giving it much thought, she’d been looking forward to Sunday all week and now she knew precisely why: Sundays had always been special because they were spent with Logan. It was Logan she wanted, Logan she needed, and Abby desperately hoped she wasn’t too late.
Abby continued to gaze at him. After a while her determination to talk to him grew stronger. Never mind her ego—Logan had a right to know her feelings. He’d been patient with her far longer than she deserved. Her stomach felt queasy, her mouth dry. Just when she’d gathered enough courage to approach him, Logan clasped his book and stood up. Turning around, he looked in her direction, but didn’t hesitate for a second. He glanced at his watch and walked idly down the concrete pathway toward her until he was within calling distance. Abby’s breath froze as he looked her way, blinked, and looked in the opposite direction. She couldn’t believe he’d purposely avoid her, and she doubted he would’ve been able to see her standing off to the side.
The moment she was ready to step forward, Logan stopped to chat with two older men playing checkers. From her position, Abby saw them motion for him to sit down, which he did. He was soon deep in conversation with them. The three were obviously good friends, although she’d never met the other men before.
Abby loitered as long as she could. Half an hour passed and still Logan stayed.
Defeated, Abby realized she’d have to hurry or be late for her picnic with Tate. Silently she slipped from her viewing position and started across the grounds. When she glanced over her shoulder, she saw that Logan was alone on a bench again and watching a pair of young lovers kissing on the grass. Even from this distance, she saw a look of such intense pain cross his face, she had to force herself not to run to his side. He dropped his head in his hands and hunched forward as if a heavy burden was weighing on him.
Abby’s throat clogged with tears until it was painful to breathe. They filled her eyes. Logan loved her and had loved her from the beginning, but she’d carelessly thrown his love aside. It had taken only a few days’ separation to know with certainty that she loved him, too.
Tears rolled down her face, but Abby quickly brushed them away. Logan wouldn’t want to know she’d seen him. She’d stripped him of so much, it wouldn’t be right to take his self-confidence, as well. Today she’d tell Tate she wouldn’t be seeing him again. If that was all Logan wanted, it would be a small price to pay. She’d run back to his arms and never leave him again.
By the time she got to her building, Tate was at the front door. They greeted each other and Tate told her about a special place he wanted to show her near Apple Valley.
