Broken Things (Faded Photograph Series) (31 page)

“I tried.” Worry lines appeared around his eyes and mouth. Logan had seen them plenty of times. But the expression of anguish was something new.

“Dad, everything’s going to be okay.”

He remained deep in thought. “Allie’s such a pushover when it comes to needy people. She’ll probably sympathize with Roxi and never want to speak to me again.”

“When you two were sitting on the couch, it didn’t look to me like she never wanted to speak to you again.”

“We’ll see.”

Pouring a glass of milk, Logan thought it over while he took a drink. The idea dawned on him that perhaps he and his father shared more than their height, brown eyes, dark hair and sarcastic wit―maybe they shared the fear of being left again―and left by the women they loved.

* * *

Speckles of Monday morning sunlight danced across the oak table in the conference room at Arbor Springs. Sitting adjacent to Evan Jacobs, Allie watched his expression darken.

“I’m sorry, Evan,” she said sincerely. “As I mentioned earlier, I don’t normally get myself so emotionally involved while I’m on an assignment.”

He gave her an understanding nod and Allie sensed he was weighing his options.

“If you and the other board members want me to resign I will. In fact, I’ll refund all your payments and you can even implement my suggestions thus far free of charge.”

Evan grinned. “Pretty generous offer.”

Allie shrugged. “Money is the last thing on my mind right now. However, you’ve got my word that, if I continue here in the capacity of consultant, you won’t be sorry. I’ve got a lot of wonderful ideas that I want to share with you, but I felt I had to be honest about the situation here concerning Mrs. Matlock.”

“I appreciate it, but I don’t think I’ll mention anything to the other board members. At least not right now. I just don’t know what it’ll accomplish.”

Allie dropped her gaze to the Styrofoam coffee cup between her palms and a feeling of relief washed over her. She wanted to stay.

“Are you prepared for the meeting in fifteen minutes?”

She glanced up to see him look at his wristwatch. “Absolutely.” She pushed back her chair. “Allow me to set up my computer, and I’ll show the board members of Lakeland Enterprises a presentation they’ll not soon forget.”

To her delight, Evan chuckled. “I’m going to get some coffee. Want a warm-up?”

“I’d love it.” Allie plugged in her laptop.

Once Evan left the room, she signed in and launched the necessary program. Silently, she prayed for Logan and his first visit with Cynthia. He planned to arrive at eight o’clock―the same time as her meeting.

* * *

“Mrs. M, you’ve got a visitor.”

Reclining in her bed after a female CNA had satisfactorily bathed her, Cynthia looked at the doorway. Nate sauntered into her room. She smiled, thinking that she was beginning to like this young man and his sassy disposition.

“Do you feel up to holding court, your highness?” He gave her a little bow.

“Oh, knock it off.” Cynthia couldn’t help a grin. However, she did feel better today than she had in weeks. “Who’s here to see me?”

“Some guy about my age…maybe a little younger.” Nate winked. “He’s got flowers, so I think we should let him in.”

Cynthia knew the identity of her visitor at once. Logan. “I…I don’t know.” Her nerves rattled. What would she say to him?

“Let him in, Mrs. M. He says he’s a family member.”

Before she could utter a response, her unexpected visitor walked in and around Nate. Cynthia gasped at the resemblance he bore to his father. With trembling fingers, she touched her lips. “Logan,” she whispered.

“I’ll leave you two alone.” Nate headed for the door. “If there’s anything you need, Mrs. M, just holler.”

Staring at her son, she didn’t answer but she watched Logan thank the nurse as he left the room. Then Logan looked back at her with those familiar brown eyes that had haunted her for nearly three decades.

“I take it you know who I am.”

She nodded. “You’re my…my son.” Her voice failed her, so she cleared her throat. “You’re Logan Michael Callahan.”

“And you’re my mother.” He gave her a courteous smile before setting the flowers on the window ledge. Cynthia noted the lovely fall arrangement in a wicker basket.

“They’re pretty,” she murmured. “Thanks. I can’t remember the last time someone brought me flowers.”

“You’re welcome.”

An uncomfortable moment lapsed between them.

“I, um, have some pictures here.” Logan pulled snapshots from his jacket pocket. He was meticulously dressed in a dark suit and coordinating tie. “I must say, you don’t look anything like these photos.”

“I’m dying. My angel must have told you that. What did you expect?”

A little frown furrowed his brow. “Your angel?”

“That’s my name for her. Her real name is Allie, but I call her my angel because until I met her, this place was a living nightmare.”

“Sorry to hear that…about this place, I mean.” Logan glanced at the armchair beside her bed. “May I sit down?”

“Go ahead.”

He inched closer, regarding her all the while. Reaching the chair, he lowered himself into it.

“Lemme see those pictures.”

Logan handed them over.

With shaky hands, she held them toward the small shaft of light coming through the draperies. The photographs seemed to weigh a pound apiece. “Our wedding day,” she muttered, setting the first snapshot aside. “I don’t remember when this one was taken.” The second showed her holding her baby son. The last picture was a taken at Christmastime, probably 1971 or ’72.

Cynthia let her arms fall. The simple effort of holding three snapshots exhausted her, but she liked the way she looked in each of them. She wished she looked like that today. “I was pretty back then, wasn’t I?” When she didn’t hear a reply, she turned to look at her son. He gave her an uncomfortable little grin. “You sure do resemble your father.”

The grin became a smile. “That’s what everyone says.”

“It’s true. I’d know you anywhere.”

Cynthia tore her gaze away from Logan’s face. Remembering him as an infant was one thing, coming face to face with him as an adult was another. It was almost too painful. The baby she’d left sleeping in his crib was now a full-grown man…and a handsome man at that.

“What do you want?” she ground out, covering her vulnerability with terseness. “Do you want to tell me how much you hate me and how I’ve scarred your life forever? Do you want to find out if I have a will and life insurance and if you’re listed as a beneficiary?”

“No, no, nothing like that.”

She cursed before glancing his way again. “Then what? What do you want from me?”

“Answers.”

“Answers.” Cynthia wasn’t sure she had any.

“I’ve actually been doing searches on the Internet in hopes of locating you,” Logan continued. “But Allie found you here instead. I don’t believe it was a mistake or a coincidence. It was answered prayer.”

Cynthia sensed more Bible talk was on the way. “You’re a minister…is that right?”

“A youth pastor, yes.”

“Hm…did you come to preach at me?”

“If you’ll listen.”

Another obscenity escaped her lips and when she looked at Logan she didn’t miss his expression of disappointment. Her heart ached. He looked so much like his dad.

“I loved your father,” she confessed. “I honestly did. He was the first one who really cared about me. But he didn’t love me. I wanted him to and I tried every trick in the book to make that happen. Didn’t work, though.”

Logan sat silently by.

“Did he ever remarry?”

“No.”

“So you…you never had a mother?”

“I had my grandmother and my aunt.”

But not a mother
. Cynthia’s already broken heart shattered all the more. Her son never knew the love of a mother. But that was Jack’s fault. “Why didn’t your father remarry?”

Logan shrugged. “Guess the right one never came along.”

“That’s bull―” Cynthia stopped herself before swearing again. No doubt her son disliked profanity as much as her angel did, and for some reason, she didn’t want to offend him. “That’s ridiculous,” she began again. “The ‘right one’ was in my room earlier this morning. She told me you might come to visit.”

“Allie?”

“Bingo.” Cynthia stared up at the ceiling. “Your father was hung up on her even after he married me.” Slowly, she turned to Logan. “How could I compete with a memory?”

“I…I don’t know what to say,” Logan stammered.

“I guess there’s nothing to say when it comes to your dad and me. That was so long ago, and our relationship was hopeless from the start. But if Allie is a widow, and your dad isn’t married, why don’t the two of them finally get together?”

“I don’t really know all the ins and outs.”

“They should quit wasting time.” Cynthia suddenly felt drowsy. “Life’s too short. Either one of them could end up like me in a year’s time.”

“That’s true. Tomorrow isn’t promised to any of us.”

Another momentary pause of discomfort, then Logan spoke again. “Would you mind answering a few of my questions?”

Cynthia considered him while trying to keep her heavy eyelids from closing. “I owe you that much, don’t I? Sure. What do you want to know?”

Logan glanced at his hands, folded over his knees. “I want to know why you never tried to contact me when I was a kid. You could have called me on my birthday or sent me a card at Christmas. Why didn’t you?”

With a long sigh, Cynthia contemplated the question. “Fear,” she finally answered. “I was afraid Jack would have me arrested if I tried to contact you.”

“I can’t see Dad doing something like that, but―”

“You were an infant,” Cynthia cut in, “how could you know what your dad would or wouldn’t do?”

Logan did a quick up and down of his dark eyebrows, a silent disagreement.

Cynthia looked away. “Besides, I figured you were better off without me. After the divorce, I started using my first name again and I headed to Las Vegas. I sang and danced in nightclubs there and my career left no room for raising a kid.” She chanced a peek at him. “Sounds selfish, doesn’t it? Do you hate me now?”

He shook his head. “No, I don’t hate you.”

He probably should. She closed her eyes.

“I don’t completely understand your rationale behind leaving me and never contacting me. That part hurts. I’ll admit it.”

“What’s not to understand?” Cynthia opened her eyes and regarded her son.

“Your fear of my dad. He’s a good man who devoted his life to helping others. He’d hurt himself before he’d hurt anyone else.”

“Except he made it so I could never visit you, Logan. Can’t you see? He threatened me. He played mind games with me until I ran away. Once I got my head together, I was afraid of going back for you because…because I was afraid of your father. It’s his fault, Logan. It’s all his fault!”

Standing, Logan placed a hand on her shoulder. The warmth of his touch penetrated her skin. “Shh,” he said, “you’re ill. Don’t get yourself worked up.” His voice soothed her.

“I can tell you’re a good minister.” Tears pricked Cynthia’s eyes to think he’d turned out so well because she
hadn’t
raised him. “Jack did a better job with you than I did with my daughters.” She allowed her weighty eyelids to close. She wanted to sleep―sleep and never wake up.

“So I have sisters?” Logan prompted. “Half-sisters? What are their names? I’d like to meet them.”

“No you wouldn’t. Trust me,” Cynthia groused. “They’re a couple of hussies who only look out for themselves. They’re the reasons I’m in this place. They’re the reasons I’m dying…all alone.” Her voice gave out on that last word.

“But you’re not alone.”

Through misty eyes, she stared up at him. He still had his hand on her shoulder and he gave it a gentle squeeze.

He bestowed the gentlest of smiles on her. “You’ve got me.”

A sob wracked her emaciated body. Such undeserved kindness―and from a man who should hate her! It was more than she could bear.

“Go,” she sniveled. “Go…please.”

“All right. I’m sorry I upset you.”

Shaking her head, she wanted to say it wasn’t him who upset her. It was herself. Her rotten, miserable self!

“I’ll come back another time. When you’re feeling better.”

Cynthia managed a weak nod and stretched her shaky hand out toward the call light. She needed more pain medication, except whatever Nate gave her wouldn’t be strong enough to dull the deep-rooted ache in her soul.

Chapter Twenty-four

The presentation had gone superbly. Allie smiled as she walked down the corridor. Her ideas for restructuring Arbor Springs were well received by the board and its members even agreed to allow her to hire the facility’s new director as well as charge nurses for each shift on every floor. As for training security personnel, Allie was given the “green light” on that too. Now if only the man she had in mind to do the training would take her up on the offer.

Reentering her office, Allie set her computer on the desk. A rap on her still-opened door sounded. She turned to see Logan.

“Come in.” She faced him. “How’d it go with Cynthia?”

Logan stepped inside and closed the door behind him. “Not sure. I think I upset her. But when I said I’d come back another time, she nodded. So I guess that’s a good sign.”

“Logan, I think she’s carrying around a lifetime of guilt and remorse. I’m not trying to excuse anything she’s done. In fact, I detest her behavior, past and sometimes even present.” Allie sat on the corner of her desk. “But she’s definitely a hurting individual.”

“I agree.” He pulled a few snapshots from the inside pocket of his suit jacket and handed them to Allie. “Ever see these?”

She took them, looked them over, and shook her head.

“Aunt Nora gave them to me. That’s my biological mother in those photos.”

Allie had guessed as much before Logan explained. However, it was hard to believe that the ghost of a woman upstairs was the same voluptuous creature in the pictures. Platinum-blond hair that was slightly teased for a fuller effect framed Cynthia’s lovely oval face. In each picture, her clothes were snug, revealing the kind of figure Allie used to hope for in her youth. But seeing Cynthia with Jack on their wedding day caused Allie a pinch of jealousy.