Can't Let Go (12 page)

“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. 

It was an awkward dinner, Abby reflected as she sat beside Logan.  Eric and her father sat across from them—her father doing most of the talking.  He’d spent a good portion of their time at the restaurant telling stories from Abby and Hayley’s childhood—the many tales of mischief and mayhem.  Finally, though, he’d turned to the present—turning his attentions to Logan.  “So, Logan—what is it you do for a living?”  He
asked,
his tone genuine. 

“I’m an architect, actually.”  Logan replied, nodding as he replaced his coffee mug on the table.

“Oh, really?”
  Logan nodded again.  Martin leaned forward, his interests piqued.  “I’ve always loved architecture—always wondered what it’d be like as a job.”

“It’s definitely the right place for me.”  Logan spoke with complete certainty.  He’d never really had much drive for the future until he’d met Abby, but now that he’d found something he was actually
good
at, he no longer doubted himself.

“Logan’s always loved building things.”  Abby spoke aloud, though she didn’t really mean to.  But it was true.  “Blake told me quite a few stories about the forts you two would always try and build—”

“Hey, those were very sturdy plans.  Our materials were just never…sufficient.”  Abby smiled while her father laughed boisterously.  Eric offered only a forced smile, not seeing the humor in it.  She knew he was angry with her, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. 

“Blake was never a hands-on kind of guy, either.  That made construction a bit difficult.  He was always more concerned with taking care of things.  Hurt birds, stray cats,
hungry
dogs.  If we were building a shelter for something like
that
, he was easily motivated.”  Logan paused for a moment, the realization that he was speaking of his friend in the past tense a tough one.  “Blake was a good guy.”  He said finally, shifting his gaze to the mug in his hands.  Abby nodded, agreeing. 

“Hayley got lucky.”  She had never once doubted that the two of them had belonged together.  Nor did she doubt that they had ever once experienced a moment of unhappiness because of it, either.  They had accepted what fate offered them and lived life to its fullest.

“They really were meant for each other,”
  Logan added, as if reading her mind.  He found her eyes and held them, forgetting now th
at Abby’s fiancé was sitting across from him.

“They were.”  It was just one simple statement—on the outside, completely innocent and free of any ulterior meaning.  But Logan knew—he felt it in his heart, in the way she met his eyes. 

She wasn’t just talking about Hayley and Blake anymore.

“They did have something special, didn’t they?”  It was Martin who spoke next, looking between Abby and Logan as if seeing them for the first time.  Abby felt her cheeks flush and she looked away, taking a sip of water. 

“Oh, Abigail—I meant to tell you.  The designer called—your dress is ready for a fitting whenever you return.”  Eric’s voice shocked her back to reality and she suddenly felt guilty as he stared at her knowingly.  He wasn’t blind.

“Thanks…I’ll have to—”
  She
was about to say that she would go as soon as she got home, but she thought twice before speaking.  “I’ll have to find a weekend to go.  Ingrid’s pretty upset about me taking so much time off as it is.”  Eric’s face remained expressionless, as did Abby’s.  She knew Logan was questioning her with his eyes, but she didn’t dare look at him.  Not again—especially not in front of them. 

“Ingrid will have to settle down and do her own job, that’s what I say,”
  Martin
offered, taking a sip of the coffee in front of him.  There was a look of annoyance in his eyes, but nothing close to disappointment.  Logan gained another edge of respect for the older man, partially against his own will.  “My little Abby works herself to death for that woman and what does she get?”

“It’s a
gossip
rag.”  Eric
said,
his tone one of irritation.  Logan was about to speak—about to jump to Abby’s defense—when she spoke.  

“Gossip rag or not, Eric.
  It’s my job.  And I work hard.  I deserve a little credit.”  When he heard her repeating his words, he couldn’t help the grin that crept onto his lips.  So she had been paying attention.  That was something, wasn’t it?

“That’s what I say as well, dear.”  Martin smiled, passing another look between Abby and Logan.  “Well, I don’t want to overstay my welcome, so I think it’s about time Mr. Thompson and I make our way back to the airport.  Who knows how long we’ll have to wait to catch a flight.” 

“Already?”
  Abby asked, and Logan could tell she was thoroughly disappointed.  She was happy that he had come. 
Happy that he had been there to support her.
  But as everyone rose from the booth, it became apparent that there was no stopping them.

“Well, first I need to find a restroom.”  Martin said with a smile.  “I’ll meet you all out front.  Go on.”  The three of them began to walk toward the door when Logan
stopped,
not wanting to intrude on the few moments the two would have together. 

“You two go ahead.  I’ll just hang back here for a bit.”  Something in him sensed that the soon-to-be married couple would need their privacy.