FURY: A Rio Games Romance (8 page)

“Oh! Call me Tracy!” she said. “And my… You’re a handsome young man.”

“Mom,” Logan said, embarrassed. “You’re flirting.”

“I am not,” Tracy said as they followed her through the door and into the foyer. “Maybe a little. I’m just so excited to have you with us tonight. Do you like chicken pot pie?”

Solomon nodded. “I do. I think. Actually… I’m not sure I’ve had it before.”

Tracy clapped her hands. “Well, it’s Logan’s favorite! And not to toot my own horn, but I make a pretty mean pot pie. Come on in to the living room, you can meet Logan’s father.”

That last sentence made both Logan and Solomon’s stomachs fall.

Solomon had never met a girl’s father before. His palms began to sweat. Logan squeezed his hand for reassurance.

“He’s going to love you,” she whispered. “I hope you love him too.”

Before Solomon could reply, they were in front of the great Chuck Lowery. This was the man Logan held up as an example of the perfect human. He’d raised her and adored her. Solomon knew Chuck’s opinion was the most important opinion of all when it came to Logan.

And as soon as Solomon saw him, he wanted to cry.

Chuck Lowery was skeletal. He sat in a recliner, pillows piled up around him to help him sit up. The cancer was doing it’s worst in a quick fashion, and Solomon could hardly make eye contact with him because his appearance was so heartbreaking.

“Kiddo,” Chuck croaked out, his voice dry and hoarse. His customary loud timbre had also been beaten down by his illness. Logan walked over to him, gently wrapping her arms around him.

“Hi, Daddy,” Logan said. “I brought a guest.”

“I heard,” Chuck said, looking up at Solomon. “She tells me you’re a judoka.”

“Yes, sir,” Solomon said, putting a smile on his face. “Or at least, trying to be.”

“I’d say,” Chuck replied, holding up a newspaper. “Just read an article about you heading to Brussels for a match next month. You’re the real deal.”

Logan lit up. Her father had researched him. That was a good sign. And melted her heart.

Solomon blushed. “Thank you, sir. Yes, I have a tournament next month. It will help decide if I have a chance of going to Rio.”

Chuck smiled, the light in his eyes back for a moment. “That sounds wonderful. And Logan tells me you are hoping to represent Fiji, right?”

Solomon looked over at Logan. “Yes, sir. I hope to bring home their first Olympic medal. Though it may not happen in Rio. But maybe in 2020, when we go to Tokyo. Rio will be good practice for me.”

Chuck shook his head. “Solomon, I already like you. But may I give you one piece of advice?”

“Of course,” Solomon said. “I’d be happy to hear it.”

“Don’t go in assuming you’ll have another Olympics,” Chuck said. “We aren’t guaranteed shit in life. That’s a hard lesson I’ve had to learn recently. You go to Rio like it’s the only Olympics you’ll ever see. You take down the competition and you win, Solomon. Don’t wait for another chance that may never come. Seize the moment.” Chuck looked Solomon right in the eyes, his own having tears rimming them. “Do it for me, okay?”

Solomon tried his best to keep his composure. “Of course, sir. I’d be nothing but honored.”

Chuck smiled. “A great hero of mine said once, ‘You become what you think you are.’ Have you heard that before?”

“Yes. Muhammad Ali,” Solomon replied. “He said that. He’s one of my heroes too.”

Chuck looked over at Logan. “This one’s a good one, kiddo. Let’s keep him around a while, okay?”

Logan rolled her eyes but inside she was beaming.

She would never forget this day.

Because it was the first and only time Solomon would get to speak to her father.

M
eeting Logan’s
family had taken them to a new level of affection and trust. He felt like he knew her, really knew her, in a way he hadn’t before.

And her father. He was an amazing man. It killed Solomon that he never got to meet her father when he was well.

Chuck Lowery clearly loved Logan and his wife more than anything in the world. It made Solomon ache for his own father, a man he’d never even known.

What would Jack O’Connor be like? Solomon liked to think he might be a lot like Chuck Lowery.

* * *

H
e couldn’t take
his mind off her. She was always in his thoughts. His uncle would comment on his trance-like states at training and Solomon would laugh it off.

They’d still run in the evenings and eat dinner in the dining hall or at Uptown Chili. Solomon felt himself laying down his guard when he was with her. If nothing else, she made him feel safe.

And one night, Solomon would be the one called to return the favor.

* * *

“
S
olomon
!”

It was Logan. His cell had started buzzing on his nightstand in the middle of the night. It had taken him a moment to wake up and realize it was his phone and not some weird dream. First he glanced at his alarm clock (2:47 am. He would never forget) and once he saw Logan’s name on his caller ID, he was immediately wide awake. He sat up and pressed the button to answer, nervous already.

Good news never came at 2:47 am.

“Solomon, my dad died.”

Her wailing, her anguish, her pain, was so thick that Solomon almost broke down right then. He’d never heard a voice like Logan’s in that moment. It was pure despondency, the worst kind of heart ache.

And there was nothing he could do about it.

“Logan,” he said. “Where are you? Right now?”

“In my dorm room,” she sobbed. “My mom just called. He was fine earlier, I just talked to him about San Diego and National team tryouts…” Her voice cracked, her sob choking her for a long moment. “I’m all alone. And my dad is dead.”

Solomon was already pulling on a t-shirt as he spoke to her.

“I’m on my way over right now,” he said. “Give me five minutes.”

* * *

W
hen she answered
her door she immediately collapsed into his arms. He picked her up, clutching her to his chest, lifting her off the floor to hold her, to comfort her.

But this kind of agony wasn’t something he could heal with touch or words. This was something only to be survived.

But he’d survive it with her. Solomon wouldn’t leave her by herself.

“Do you need me to take you home?” he asked as she wept into his chest. “Logan, what can I do?”

“Erase me,” she cried. “I don’t want to exist without him.”

“I couldn’t bear that,” Solomon said, kissing her head. “I don’t know what to do or say. I’d do anything I could… I’m so sorry.”

She clutched his shirt in her hands, her cries echoing around them, breaking his heart.

“Drive me to my mom,” she finally said. “The only person in the world that is as sad as me… Is her.”

* * *

S
olomon had never been
to a funeral.

Chuck Lowery’s funeral was a packed house, as he himself would have said. And been proud of.

Solomon sat next to Logan who sat next to her mother, who was so distraught at the sudden loss of her husband that she’d been half sedated for most of the last 3 days.

Although Chuck had been dying, he’d been gone too soon. Tracy Lowery had expected more time. She
needed
more time. And no one could comfort her, not even her own daughter.

Being that Mrs. Lowery was out of sorts, it had been up to Logan to come up with a eulogy, something she’d worked on late the night before while Solomon had lied sleeping on the couch in the living room of her childhood home. He refused to leave her side.

“I’m so nervous,” she’d confessed to him that morning. “It’s so many people and I’m afraid I won’t have the right words.”

“Speak from your soul,” Solomon said. “You are his most prized accomplishment. You can do no wrong. I promise.”

She kissed him then, softly.

“I have no idea how someone like you actually exists,” she said, touching his face. “But thank you. For being here. You did not sign up for this mess. And I am a complete mess, Solomon.”

“Anyone would be,” Solomon said. “Now. Go. Make your father proud.”

Logan had stood confidently at the pulpit of the Catholic church she had grown up going to. The same church Chuck Lowery had grown up going to. Where they’d both been baptized as babies, taken first communion as children.

Logan never in a million years imagined she’d one day be eulogizing her father in this church that he’d raised her in.

She took a deep breath and looked out at the hundreds of people gathered in the church to pay respects to Chuck Lowery. Some were fellow coaches and teachers. A huge majority were former students and athletes, almost all of them crying as she stepped up to the stage.

It was time to say something.

She’d decided it was easiest to write a letter and speak to the crowd as if she was speaking to her father.

“Dad,” she started, her hands shaking. “This was unexpected. So I have struggled with what I should say. Because not that I could ever be ready for you to leave us, but I made the grave mistake of thinking I had more time with you. To say the things I wanted to say, to tell you everything you needed to know.”

She paused looking out at the audience. She sought out Solomon’s face. He nodded, letting her know she was fine. She sighed.

“But I should have known better. The theme of my entire, majestic, perfect childhood was ‘Seizing the day.’ You taught me every day to do my best, to wake up and throw myself at life. So I did. I threw myself at everything. Sometimes literally! But your lesson was always clear. Each day is a gift. Treat it like one. It’s not just a Hallmark card. It’s the truth.”

She choked up for a moment but was able to gain her composure.

“I have never known a man as good as you are. You are good right down to your bone marrow. Your words were always kind, even when you were scolding. You always strived to do right by those around you. You had your glory days before me, times I am sure you missed. But you always made me feel…” Logan was crying now. “You always made me feel like my life was your glory days. You looked at me like I was the most amazing thing you’d ever seen. People would say to me, ‘You’re Chuck Lowery’s daughter.’ But if you were standing there you’d say, ‘No. I’m Logan Lowery’s father.’ You made me believe I was important and that I was capable of doing great things.”

She paused again. She could hear people crying louder now, her words clearly meaning something to them.

“There is no light left in me right now. I am destroyed by your sudden absence. But you always told me life isn’t fair. You never minced words and you never made me think I was owed anything that I hadn’t earned myself. You taught me how to be strong, but most importantly, you taught me how to love. To love someone is to want something for them more than you want it for yourself.”

Logan was really crying now.

“Your dreams and mine have almost always coincided. I just always expected you’d be there to see them come true. This is life’s cruel joke on us all. We aren’t guaranteed shit.”

Logan looked at Solomon as she said that.

“I will do my best, just like you taught me to do. I will try out for the Olympics, I will give my best to my country if I am called to serve them. I will continue to give my best to my college and to my mother, the one woman you might have loved more than me.”

She looked at her mother then who was crying loudly now, her Xanax either wearing off or kicking in.

“Thank you for somehow being the father that I got to have. There won’t be an hour that goes by in my life where I won’t think of you. You always said you were grateful for me. But I wish more than anything I could tell you how grateful I was to be yours.”

She was finished. Her heart was broken.

There wasn’t a dry eye in the house.