Heat Wave

My eyes widen.

He goes on. “I know it sounds bloody awful for me to say that but it’s the truth. And I only had her growing up. My dad left us when I was young, I barely have memories of him, though the memories I do have aren’t bad. At least there was some love there, but my dad got caught up with gambling and that did him in. And I’m sure my own mother didn’t help either.”

“What did she do?” I ask quietly.

“It’s more like what she didn’t do. Which, to put it bluntly, was to fucking love us. But compared to you and Juliet, it was different. Both Kit and I got the shit end of the stick. My mother would sit around all day in her bloody chair, smoking packs of cigarettes until her ashtray was piled high, and she’d make us cook and clean and do everything for her. If we did it, we didn’t get harassed. If we didn’t do it, she would go out of her way to make sure our lives were a living hell. My brother and I got nothing. Of course back then, we were growing up rural and this seemed to be the norm. Emotional abuse was never talked about and lack of love was something that was swept under the rug. My mom worked her job at the bank and when she wasn’t there, she was terrorizing us and we thought that’s how life was supposed to be. Loveless and full of fear.”

I had no idea at all it was like this for Logan. I knew he was reluctant to talk about his mother, but I thought it was because he had nothing to say about her or just didn’t want to seem like a dick when I had my own mother to complain about. Instead, his mom sounds worse than mine.

“I’m so sorry,” I whisper. “I wish you told me this sooner.

“I should have. I don’t know why I didn’t. ” He shrugs. “And the crazy thing is, I grew up still wanting her approval. It’s no wonder that Kit ended up in the outback up north, far away from where we grew up, and I ended up all the way over here.” He looks at me, a softness coming over his eyes. “And so when I met you, I knew. I knew you’d come from a similar place. Your mother can be pretty awful, I’ll give you that much, but thankfully you never had to do what we had to do. Even so, I recognized them as the same. Sometimes I think I fell for Juliet because I saw it as another way to prove myself, even though it was to your mother and not mine. How fucked up is that?”

He exhales heavily through his nose, staring out at the headlights on the road. “Anyway, seeing that wanker that Juliet was with made me realize that we’ve all got our own people. Somewhere out there there’s someone who is part of your tribe, who belongs to you, who should be with you. You have always been my people, Veronica. From the moment we first met till now, through all of those years where we were both lost and stolen. You’re mine as much as I’m yours. And I swear nothing, nothing, is ever going to change that for us. You will always belong in my heart. It’s your home.”

My chest is expanding with a joy so acute, I’m not sure how to handle it, where the feeling should go. I’m just drowning in it, taking in his words instead of air, until it’s everything I am and all that I’ll need.

“If you’ll belong to my heart,” I tell him breathlessly, reaching across and tracing my fingers along his ear, his cheekbones, down the length of his beard to his chin. “I know you always have.”

What a bunch of fucking saps we are. But I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

On the way back to Moonwater we stop by Juliet’s marker, the scene of the crash, taking great care as we park on the side of the road. We don’t have time for a vigil or even a few words – it’s a narrow, dangerous spot and you have to make it quick. But the two of us get out, hand in hand, and run over, laying down the lei, the headlights from the Jeep illuminating us. A soft rain is starting to fall.

Even though we don’t say anything out loud, I tell Juliet that I liked seeing her today, that I hope I’ll see her again, whale or not, and that I love her. Maybe just as family, in that deep-rooted way you can’t escape, but I love her all the same.

Then we head back to Moonwater, the place she helped create, and I vow to keep it going in her honor, and to one day make her proud.





CHAPTER EIGHTEEN




“Ron, help! Help! I’m stuck.”

I’m already smiling at the sound of Kate’s panicked voice and look up from my bed to see her trying to walk across the apartment, in her underwear, a dress all bundled around her head, her arms caught inside at an uncomfortable angle.

“What did you do?” I ask, coming over to her and trying to yank it up over her head.

“I told you I don’t wear dresses,” she says, trying to twist her body away from me. I keep thinking I’m going to pull her arms out of her sockets.