There was a twitch of Logan’s mouth, as if the mention of his wife’s name had the power to lift him from a near-catatonic state.
“I know there’s not much anyone can offer you by way of comfort, but I wanted to tell you that she seemed like a woman who was happy with her life. She was full of laughter and quick-witted remarks and she inspired all the writers who were lucky enough to hear her speak.”
Logan’s rocker fell silent. He turned and swallowed hard, finally letting his eyes drift over my face. “You could be her sister,” he whispered, his voice scratchy and raw.
I nodded. “Except that she was younger and more stylish than me. And I didn’t know her well, but I know she loved you and she loved Silas.”
Hearing his son’s name, Logan’s stiff posture collapsed. “How will I tell him?” he croaked. “What kind of life will he have without her? She was a wonderful mother. And my best friend. Silas and I…we adored her. I can’t go on without her.” He took a shaky breath. “I can’t.”
“You can and you will,” I assured him. “And you’ll start by eating this lunch. You and I are going to be part of a larger team working to find the person who did this to her. After that, you’ll head home and hold Silas in your arms for a really long time.”
Logan looked at the food blankly. “I’m not hungry.”
“Of course you’re not. You’re numb all over. You want to be beyond feeling hunger and cold because she is. But you can’t, Logan.” I spoke as gently as I could. “Silas needs you.” I reached over, drew one of Logan’s hands to the table, and placed half a sandwich on his palm. I slowly closed his fingers over the sandwich. “Take one bite. That’s all I ask. And in exchange I’ll tell you what it’s like to raise a child alone.”
Logan lifted the food to his mouth, but his lips refused to part.
“Think of your son and eat.”
I could see that Logan was on the brink of something. If he relented and took a bite, he’d be sacrificing the cocoon of denial he’d wrapped around himself. The agony would wash over him in wave after wave and he’d have no defense against the searing grief.
A tear rolled down his cheek as he opened his mouth, tore off a hunk of sandwich, and began to chew.
It was all I could do not to break down and cry, but I steeled myself and began to talk. “Trey was about Silas’s age when my husband walked out. He’d had an affair, I’d caught him in the act, and he decided that his best course of action was to clean out our bank accounts and disappear.”
Logan had already eaten half of the sandwich. His right hand grasped the water bottle and he drank deeply.
“We never saw him again, and not only did I have to explain to Trey that he suddenly had no father, but I had to hold myself together in order for my son to feel safe and secure.” I sighed. It was still unpleasant to think back on those first six months of single parenthood. “Trey had nightmares for a whole year after that. He acted out. He broke things and tested limits and cried when he thought no one was looking.”
Starting in on the second half of his sandwich, Logan met my eyes and nodded. He was taking in every word.
“It won’t be easy,” I told him honestly. “You’ll want to hide in your room and sob, but you can’t. Not until Silas is in bed asleep. You’ll want to drink too much and eat too little. Stay inside on the most beautiful, sunny days. But you can’t. You need to take Silas to the park and out for ice cream and to a grief counselor. And you’ll discover that by living for your son, by getting up every morning and making him pancakes or eggs, by pouring him orange juice, and by packing his lunch for school, that you want to live.” I smiled. “All along you’ll think that you’re saving your son, but in truth, your son will be saving you.”
Logan had polished off his entire lunch. His cheeks weren’t quite as drawn and his eyes were much more focused and alert. “Could I contact you for help? It sounds like you know what’s around the corner for Silas and me.”
“Call or email anytime.” I handed him my business card. “And I didn’t come just to bring you a sandwich. I want to help the authorities track down the monster who did this to Melissa.” I paused, wondering if Logan was ready to field questions. “I heard that you also work in the publishing industry. Were you and Melissa with the same company?”
“No. I work for a much smaller house. We put out textbooks and books printed specifically for libraries.” The corner of his mouth turned up slightly. “Of the two of us, Melissa definitely had the more exciting job.”
He’d given me the perfect segue. “Did she talk to you about her authors?”