chapter Five
Abby stood near the doorway, a faux smile on her face as she greeted various newcomers. It was the day of the viewing and she stood near the back of the room, far away from the caskets that held her friends.
The viewing was to last for a total of six hours, from two-o’clock until eight. Only half-way through and already Abby had been greeted by many friends of Hayley and Blake—most of whom already knew who she was. She had been hugged by various strangers, had been told many stories about her friends, and had been offered assistance by people she had only just met.
It was touching, yes.
But it was also exhausting. It took such effort to maintain her composure.
She stifled a yawn, trying her hardest to fight off her exhaustion. It had been another long night—full of tossing and turning, trying her hardest to sleep. But no matter how hard she tried, nothing worked. She had spent most of the night putting together a few collages, flipping through all of the photos Logan had brought over, more as if it was a task handed down to her by her boss rather than something she had chosen to undertake.
It had been difficult, though—she had to admit. Many of the photos had brought back memories of the past and she’d had to struggle against letting them overwhelm her. Even the happiest memories were painful now.
Logan had arrived just before one o’clock bearing bagels and coffee, insisting that she eat. She had cursed him inside her head for knowing her so well. They had dined in the truck, on the way to the funeral home.
Her eyes traveled around the room until she found him, standing near the caskets. Even with the dark circles under his eyes, it was hard not to notice how handsome he was. He was dressed in a pair of black pants, his white dress shirt tucked-in. He wore a plain black tie.
Even from this distance, she noticed it was a bit crooked—and a memory of a time when she tied his ties for him flashed across her eyes. She remembered how it felt, standing beneath him, his gray eyes never leaving her. She remembered how beautiful she had felt in that gaze—as if she was the only girl in the world he could see.
Abby shook her head, bringing herself back to the present. She definitely couldn’t go there.
Logan was surrounded by people as well, she noticed, their friends having become very popular in a short amount of time. The room was filled with various bouquets of flowers and baskets offering condolences. Everyone was so sincere—but it didn’t help. She was afraid nothing really would.
Their eyes met and her heart fluttered softly in her chest.
He understood.
Whether or not this was a good thing was unclear to her, though.
Time passed, though not quickly enough. Abby was eager for the day to finish. Too much was surrounding her—too much sadness, too much loss, too much sympathy. She had done well, holding herself together, but she could feel her resolve wearing thin.
As the night drew to a close, Logan neared her, holding her purse in his hand. He leaned in, as if to embrace her. Abby froze up instinctively, the mere thought of his arms around her almost enough to break the dam she was trying so hard to keep steady. But instead, he braced himself against her shoulders and leaned close to her ear. “Your phone has been vibrating pretty much constantly for the last two hours.”
“It has?” He nodded, and Abby took her purse, digging through it until she found the phone. She unlocked it and groaned. She was bordering on twenty missed calls. “Can you—?”
“Sure—go on, we’re almost done here anyway.” She nodded her thanks, stepping out of the room and making her way to the back of the building. The chill in the air immediately seeped through her thin navy blue blouse and dark gray pants and she tried to ignore the shiver that ran down her spine.
When she opened her phone again, she navigated the menu to view her missed calls and another wave of dread passed through her. Most of them were from Ingrid.
Without bothering to listen to the copious number of voicemails her boss had been leaving, she dialed the familiar number and waited. Ingrid was positively livid when she answered. “Where the hell have you been?” Abby was taken aback.
“I left you a message, Ingrid—a friend of mine—”
“This is unacceptable. Absolutely unacceptable. We’re due for publication and you abandon all of your responsibilities—”
“My responsibilities are with my family, Ingrid.”
“Your friend is not your family.” Abby clenched her teeth, trying to control her temper. She didn’t notice that the door had opened and that people were beginning to carry flowers to Logan’s truck. “You have a responsibility to this magazine, Abigail. I expect to have you back in the office tomorrow—”
“That’s not happening, Ingrid.”
“Excuse me?” Abby was, by now, just as angry as Ingrid, if not more so. She had never—in all the time she’d been there—requested emergency personal time.
“Ingrid, I am, at this very moment, standing outside the funeral home that my friends’ bodies are being displayed at. And tomorrow, I’m going to their funeral.”
“Then Sunday.”
“No.” Abby stood firm, shaking her head even though the woman on the other end of the phone couldn’t see her.
“Abigail, if you think you’re such a necessity to this team that you can’t be replaced, I’m afraid you’ve been quite misinformed.” And it was at that moment that Abby felt herself snap.
“You know what, Ingrid?” She was speaking in a very calm tone, though she was anything but. “I think you’re right. So why don’t I just save you the trouble of finding someone else to fire me?” She didn’t even hesitate. “I quit.”
“Excuse me?”
“I quit. Good luck doing your own job for once.” And with that, she stabbed angrily at the touch-screen, a string of obscenities floating from her lips as she struggled not to kick something or throw the tiny piece of technology at the wall.
A small bubble of laughter sounded behind her and she froze, feeling her face turn scarlet. She was grateful it was growing dark enough that he couldn’t see her as she turned around to face him. “Doing okay there, sailor?”
“My boss.”
“If I heard right, that would be your former boss, correct?” Logan had a small smile on his face and Abby rolled her eyes, shrugging her shoulders and nodding. “Told you you’re a strong woman, Abigail Lewis. When the time came…you did what you had to do.”
“Well, a girl can only take so much.” She sighed, running her fingers through her hair. His eyes met hers and she froze for a moment, her heart thumping wildly against her ribs. She felt somewhat vulnerable without her sunglasses and she tried to tell herself to look away, but she couldn’t. Something about him just wouldn’t let her. “What’re you doing out here anyway?”
“Loading up the flowers so I can take them to the restaurant.” They had arranged for the wake to be held at the small restaurant Blake and Hayley had loved so much. “Why don’t you grab up those collages you made? We’ll take them over now. One less thing to worry about in the morning.” It was going to be a hectic morning, Abby thought. He made a good point. She nodded, glad when he finally broke their gaze.
It didn’t take long for her for carry the collages out to the truck, and so she set about helping Logan load up the flowers. As she made her way outside, one of the yellow petals fluttered from the flower, falling to the ground. She hesitated a moment, staring down at it.
And then it occurred to her.
“Would you mind dropping me off back at the motel, Logan? I mean, before the restaurant?”
“Sure—what’s the rush?”
“I just realized—I can’t—I mean, tomorrow. I brought a black dress.”
“That is what people traditionally wear to a funeral, Abby.”
“Yes, I know—but I can’t.” The memory danced through her mind once more. “When I die, Abbs—I don’t want you wearing black. Wear something bright and vibrant. You’ll be the trendiest of all the old ladies there. Black is just so—depressing.” Abby heard her own laughter in her head as she remembered the day. They had been sitting at the bar that the guys worked at and a large group of people arrived from a funeral—every one of them wearing black. Hayley had leaned forward, all seriousness, and told Abby her wishes.
“I need to go—I’ve got to find something else to wear.” How could she have been so stupid? How could she have forgotten such a moment?
She knew, of course. Because at the time, it had seemed like something she wouldn’t have to remember for a very long time. At the time, it had seemed like some trivial little exchange.
“Well why don’t we save time and I’ll just take you?” Abby looked up at him, her eyes wide with surprise.
“You don’t mind?” He shook his head, his expression completely sincere. “I don’t even care where we go—I don’t know if there’s a mall anywhere nearby or…”
“If I remember right, there’s a dress shop on the way to the city. I mean, I doubt they have anything too fancy but—”
“No, no—that’s fine.” She placed the vase of flowers carefully in the bed of the truck, Logan following suit. “I’m just going to run in and thank them—can you get the rest?”
“Not a problem. I’ll meet you back here.”
Abby rushed through the niceties, thanking the directors of the funeral home for being so helpful. As she hurried back out to meet Logan, she glanced at the clock, wondering how late a local dress shop would stay open in an area like this.
He already had the truck running, reaching across the seat and opening her door once he saw her coming. She hopped inside and exhaled loudly. “So Logan, why, exactly, do you know where a dress shop is around here?” His chuckle warmed the interior of the truck.
“I spent some time out this way after I graduated, before I found a job. Got to know the area a little bit.” A few things began to make sense.
“I see—and a dress shop was something you paid a lot of attention to?” Her tone sounded playful, but really, she was almost nervous to hear his explanation.
“I went with Hayley once. She was looking for something to wear for some sort of special night out with Blake.” Abby imagined the scene—Hayley dragging Logan all over the place, talking his ear off, trying to get his opinion. A faint smile came to her lips.
“She liked surprising him like that.” Logan nodded and the two fell quiet once more, each lost in their thoughts. “Does it still seem surreal to you?” She asked finally, not really meaning to speak aloud, but not regretting it.
“I still can’t wrap my head around it, if that’s what you’re asking.” He sighed. “I mean, I’d just talked to him, Abby. He was so excited—they both were. And then this…” He shook his head, not finishing his sentence. Abby had some idea about what it was he was referring to. “Yeah, surreal is the word. I just can’t believe it.”
“I’m glad I’m not the only one.” Not only could she not believe that her friends were gone—snatched away at their happiest moment—but that she was here, with him. She had a feeling he agreed, but neither felt capable of admitting it aloud.
The rest of the drive was made in silence, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable one. Both were struck by how natural it felt, sitting at the side of their former lover. Even during moments of awkward tension—everything still felt right. Abby secretly reveled in the feeling, having thought she’d lost it forever. Hayley had always been the closest she’d come to finding her other half—at least until Logan had come into their lives.
“There it is,” Abby stirred herself from her thoughts, growing aware of the slightly more busy town around them. She was surprised to see so many people out and about at this time of night. Logan was pulling into the parking lot of a small plaza, directing the truck toward a shop with many dresses in the window. As they neared, she took in some of the wild designs and raised her eyebrows.
“You’re sure Hayley brought you here?” He chuckled then, nodding his head as he opened the door and exited the vehicle. Abby followed his lead, letting herself out and approaching hesitantly. As they neared the door, she noticed the hours—they would be closing in about twenty minutes. She bit her lip, knowing the rest of the shops would likely be closing at the same time. This would have to do.
But as soon as they entered, she changed her mind. The small shop was lined with dresses of varying styles—surely she would be able to find something.
She was immediately drawn to the shades that reminded her of spring and lightness—colors Hayley had always insisted Abby was born to wear. Abby thumbed through the selections, waiting for something to catch her eye. “You two lovebirds shopping for a special occasion?” A gentle voice drawled behind her and she turned, her eyes darting between the older woman and Logan.
“Oh! No—we’re not—” Abby started.
“I mean, we used to be—” Logan added on.
“We’re just looking,” Abby said, her cheeks flushing red.
“Oh, I’m sorry. You two just have the distinct look of two people in love.” The older woman smiled. “You say you used to be?”
“It was a long time ago,” Logan explained uncomfortably.
“Well, maybe it’s just some leftover spark.” She smiled again, something that could be described as either wise and knowing or endearingly eccentric in her eyes. “You just let me know if you need any help.”
“Thank you,” Abby responded, returning to her browsing, grateful for a distraction. She certainly didn’t need anything more regarding her feelings for Logan floating around in her mind. She felt his eyes on her back, but she refused to turn around, needing the time to regain her composure. After a few more moments, her eyes landed on a pale yellow dress—very similar to the one she’d worn so many years ago. This one had thin spaghetti straps and a more flowing skirt, similar in length. “This—this one will work fine.”
“Don’t you want to try it on?” Abby shook her head, knowing that the shop would be closing soon.
“I’m sure it’ll be fine.” As per usual, she avoided Logan’s eyes as she turned around, holding the dress over her arm. “I’ll just pay for it and then we can go—we’ve still got to stop at the restaurant and drop off the flowers.”
“We’ve got time—”
“No—really, it’s okay.” She brushed passed him, her eyes trained on the floor. “It’ll do just fine.” She wasn’t sure why she was in such a hurry—why it was that she was suddenly so eager to move the night along. Perhaps, she mused, it had something to do with the intensity of Logan’s eyes as they followed her around.
Or perhaps, thought the part of her that dwelled deep within her being, it had something to do with the way she actually enjoyed it.
~*~
She stood in the living area of her small motel room, struggling to reach the zipper on the back of her dress. Logan was supposed to be arriving any minute now and she sighed with frustration. She’d gotten very little sleep once again and had, this time, passed the night mostly staring at the ceiling and scolding herself for thinking about things she knew she shouldn’t be thinking about.
But she couldn’t help it. No matter how hard she tried—her thoughts continuously brought her back to Logan.
She tried to remind herself how angry she was with him. She tried to remember the pain she’d felt upon waking to that stupid note. How devastated she had been as she packed up her belongings and returned home—leaving Hayley her own note, unable to face even her best friend. She tried to think about the year she had spent refusing to believe that she and Logan were actually over. The nights she’d cried herself to sleep.
But every time she tried, she, for whatever reason, thought of his eyes. Every time he looked at her, she felt as if she was the only other person in the world. And she didn’t even mind.
A knock sounded at the door and she sighed again. “Just a minute!” She struggled with the zipper a few moments longer.
“Everything okay in there?” And finally, Abby gave up. She crossed over to the door and opened it partway, biting her lip.
“I need a little—assistance.” She stepped backward, waving him in with one hand while holding the back of the dress with the other. Logan entered, closing the door behind him. “I can’t get the zipper.” His eyes danced with laughter as they met hers. “I’ve been trying and it just—”
“Let me do it.” She sighed one last time, turning around and lifting her hair. As she stood in front of the mirror, though she tried not to, she watched their reflection in the shiny surface. He was hesitant at first, his hand coming close to her waist and pausing for a moment before finally allowing it to settle there. She tried to ignore the way her heart responded to his touch—the way the air in her lungs suddenly seemed to disappear.
He moved slowly—carefully. She felt the soft skin of his fingers gently graze across her back and she closed her eyes, reveling in the touch.
“There,” he said, though his tone was much lower than it normally was. Her eyes fluttered open and her breath caught in her throat as their eyes met in the mirror.
It was only a moment, but it seemed to last a lifetime. She envisioned her alternate reality, in which this would be something that took place on a normal basis. Instead of preparing for a funeral, perhaps it was a wedding they were attending—something light, happy—celebratory.
And she could see that Logan too was living in his own world, his gray eyes content. Maybe even optimistic.
“We should probably—” His voice brought her crashing back to reality and she nodded, stepping aside and taking a deep breath.
“We should.” Because, of course—this wasn’t her fantasy life. This was reality.
Abby swallowed as she averted her eyes. Logan stared at the floor now, his eyes guarded. With one last glance in the mirror, she said goodbye to the fantasy, pushing it away.
The funeral was to be held outdoors, as neither Hayley nor Blake had been much for churches. Logan had suggested something outside, since they had both loved nature, and Abby had agreed without hesitation. And so the ceremony was to be held in the cemetery, near the trees.
People were already seated when they arrived—those who hadn’t been able to attend the viewing, or those who just wanted to help. Abby recognized some of the people from the day before—and some of the people she’d called from home. She suddenly felt her cheeks redden as she glanced down at her outfit.
“Everybody’s going to think I’m crazy.”
“Well—you won’t be alone.” She looked over at him, confused. “After last night, I had to do a bit of shopping of my own. And by shopping, I mean rummaging through several boxes that had been tucked away in storage for far too long.”
“What did you do, Logan?” His eyes sparkled again and he shrugged his shoulders, opening his door and letting himself out. He began to walk around the truck as if to let her out, but she pushed the door open and jumped out of the vehicle before he made it to her side. “What did you do?” She noticed now for the first time that he was wearing his aged-leather jacket and, beneath that, a pair of dark blue jeans.
“Blake knew how much I hated suits. He would never have expected me to wear one.” He shrugged again. “But I couldn’t exactly come in jeans and a t-shirt.” He paused then. “At least not any t-shirt.” And then he held his jacket open, revealing to her the tuxedo t-shirt he wore beneath it.
And Abby laughed.
It felt as if it was the first time she’d laughed in ages, the heaviness in her chest lightening as the air rushed through her. She laughed until there were tears in her eyes and she was nearly falling over, Logan joining in.
“You remember?” He asked as her laughter finally settled down. Abby nodded, memories flooding over her.
“Of course I remember.” How could she not?
Blake and Logan had, on their first date with the girls, promised them an evening they would never forget. They had told them to dress in their best and meet them at some fancy restaurant. Only, when they arrived, the boys had taken them across the street for a candle-light dinner they had prepared on their own. And both were dressed in tuxedo t-shirts.
That night marked the first time Abby and Logan had kissed.
“Well, Miss Abigail Lewis, may I have the honor of being your escort for today’s festivities?” Logan asked as he offered her his arm.
“You know what?” Her eyes still glimmered with tears, a mixture of both happiness and sadness now. “I’d have no other.”
She smiled as she slid her arm through his.
“We’re going to cause quite a scene.” He murmured.
“That’s exactly what Hayley would want.” And in that moment, Abby found some peace.
She imagined her best friend looking down at her from wherever she was now and she heard Hayley’s laughter mingling with her own. And she knew that, no matter what, Hayley would always be with her. She would always be a part of her—she would always hold a spot in Abby’s heart. And even if Hayley was gone—she would still live on, because never would a day go by that Abby didn’t think of her. They were family—in the most important way.
A few people she’d grown up with looked up as she and Logan approached and she watched as they leaned over, whispering to one another. But she stared straight ahead, a small smile on her face. For the first time in a very long time, she didn’t care what they were thinking. She didn’t care what she looked like.
They took their seats in the front row, sitting side by side, the only family their friends had. Blake’s father had left his mother before Blake had been born. His mother had died just after they’d graduated high school. He and Logan had known each other since junior high—a friendship that was just as strong as Abby and Hayley’s. She remembered Hayley’s wedding—remembered her friend’s declaration. “You, Logan, and Blake—you’re all I care about. You’re the only family I need.”
More and more people began to arrive, a few coming up and talking to Logan and Abby, but most giving them their space.
A few times, Abby cried throughout the ceremony. When a breeze rustled the leaves and a chill settled over her, she felt Logan’s jacket fall around her shoulders. And when the caskets were lowered into the ground, she turned her head and buried herself in his shoulder. Tears moistened the thin material of his t-shirt, but Logan didn’t dare move—except to wrap his arm around her small frame and welcome her.
It was a difficult ceremony for the both of them. They watched as people lined up to throw flowers on the caskets without really seeing them. Both were lost in the memories of their friends—memories of happiness and laughter. Memories of happier times for them both.
And then it was their turn. Logan went first, dropping his roses as he said his goodbyes.
Abby stood at the edge, looking downward, tears rolling down her face. “Goodbye, Hayley. I love you.” Her voice was barely louder than a whisper and she hesitated a moment before dropping the three orchids she held, allowing her heart to ache. And then she touched her fingers to her lips, as if blowing a kiss.
Logan watched her, letting her have her space. As she turned, she kept her eyes fixed on the ground for a moment. When she finally looked up, he was shocked that she immediately found his eyes. She’d spent so much time avoiding looking him directly in the eye, he’d grown used to it—even without her sunglasses. But it was without any reluctance that her green eyes met his gray.
When she neared him, he didn’t speak—instead just offered his arm, as he had done earlier. She sniffled at his side before they walked up the aisle way—a faded memory of a distant past crossing each of their minds. If Logan closed his eyes, he could imagine the salty taste of the ocean in the air and the warm breeze on his skin. It was a day he’d never forget. A day neither of them would.
As they made their way toward the truck, two figures appeared—both wearing long black jackets and very expensive suits. One was an older man, with golden-colored hair peppered with white—the other a younger man, attractive, with brown hair and a subtle tan.
“Dad?” Abby questioned at his side, stopping. Logan stopped too, looking down at her and then back to the two figures approaching them. “Eric?” Logan felt a flood of resentment rush through him as he realized who these men were. “What are you doing here? I thought—”
“I thought I could sneak away for a day without being noticed.” The man named Eric said. Logan noticed his eyes skim over Abby—a look of distaste briefly flashing in them. He wondered if it was because of what she wore—the yellow dress, maybe even his jacket—or if it was the man on her arm. “Aren’t you going to introduce us to your friend here?” Logan couldn’t help the trickle of pleasure that filled his chest as he sensed a note of jealousy.
“Oh!” Abby looked up at Logan, as if realizing for the first time that she was still holding on to him. “Dad, Eric,” she carefully removed her arm from his, but touched him with her hand—so as not to lose all contact. “This is Logan Sheppard.”
“So this is the illustrious Mr. Sheppard.” The older man spoke, stepping forward and shaking Logan’s hand. Logan smiled politely at the man. “It’s good to finally meet you.”
“The pleasure is mine, Sir,” Logan replied, feeling somewhat awkward. This was the man who had, indirectly, brought about the end of the only relationship Logan had ever wanted a future with.
“Please, call me Marty.” Logan nodded, ending the handshake. Abby next looked to Eric.
“Nice to meet you,” Eric offered his hand and Logan took it—but it was a moment full of tension. Logan suddenly felt very defensive.
“Abby, my girl—you look absolutely stunning. Has anyone told you that today?” The older man—Martin—leaned forward and embraced his daughter, touching his lips to her cheek. “Hayley would be so proud.” Logan watched the tender moment, wondering how it was possible that such a gentle man would have been able to turn his back on his daughter.
“Thanks, Daddy.” And Logan was once again reminded of the reason as to why he’d walked away—and, for once, he was glad he’d done it. Abby stared up at her father with adoring eyes, and her father returned the gaze. A pain filtered through his chest as he watched them, telling himself that he had done the right thing six years ago. Seeing them together now, he knew that nothing was worth destroying what Abby and her father had.
Walking away had been the best thing he could have done for Abby, if only to give her moments like the one he just witnessed.
Logan knew from experience—or really, the lack thereof. He had grown up without a father, and his mother had barely been present. What he would have given to have just a handful of those moments to think back on.
“So, are you two heading over to the restaurant?” Logan asked, suddenly needing to distract himself.
“Actually, Eric here—” Everyone looked to the younger man as he broke in.
“You know, Martin—I think we can just take a later flight and still be fine.”
“Are you sure?” The older man asked. Logan noticed the way Eric’s eyes quickly flashed toward him, but he didn’t back down.
“Sure—we can go for a bit, anyway.” Inwardly, Logan grinned with satisfaction.
He made this guy nervous.
Well, that had to mean something.