Shelter You (7 page)

“And you made it. According to this,” he says, holding up my passport, “your eighteenth birthday was yesterday.”

I let out a chuckle. “Yes, I made it. I’m free to be me. I’m free to be Lily’s mom and no one can change that now. No one can take me away from her, not you, not them not anyone.”

“I would have never done anything to take her away from you. I’m not your enemy,” he says defensively.

“No, but you are a cop. It’s your duty to do what’s right.”

“Sometimes legal doesn’t equal right. I’m not a robot, Mia. I would’ve helped you.”

“But I had no way of knowing that, so I had to be careful.”

“Does Sarah know?”

I exhale slowly. The last thing I want to do is throw Sarah under the bus, but I’m learning very quickly not to underestimate Logan. He’ll get to the truth eventually and I’m done living a lie. “She wanted to tell you. I made her promise.”

He shakes his head and rolls his eyes. “Fuck…”

“I had to tell her. There was no way I could work on the books by giving her a fake name. She would have found out about me. I took my chances and told her the truth. It was a crapshoot, but she decided to help me. I promised her that if there was ever a need I would tell you myself after I turned eighteen.”

“God Mia, I don’t know what to do with all of this.”

“Just put yourself in my shoes. Think about what you would have done. I’m not a liar by nature, but I did what I had to do. Giving Lily up was not an option for me.”

The sound of Lily crying from upstairs puts an indefinite end to our conversation. I’m glad for it, relieved for the ability to take even a small break from this soul crushing confession. I’m exhausted from having to relive any of it.

“Go take care of her. I’m going to go to the grocery store. I’ll bring you back some breakfast.”

“You’re not kicking me out?” I question, not hiding the surprise in my voice.

“No. I’m not kicking you out. Are eggs okay with you?”

I nod. “Yes. Eggs are fine.”

He gets up, grabs his keys off of the kitchen counter, and heads for the front door.”

“Logan.” I call after him. He turns but says nothing, just stands there motionless, waiting for me to speak. “Thank you,” I say quickly and head upstairs to take care of Lily.

It’s over an hour later by the time Logan makes it back. I don’t go downstairs right away—just lay on the spacious bed with Lily, relaxing and trying to wrap my mind around the events of the morning. Part of me is afraid to face him, to see the disappointment in his face because I still feel awful for having lied but when push comes to shove I still wouldn’t change it and that thought causes me to feel guilty.

“Mia?” Logan calls out from the other side of my door. “Can I come in?”

I sit up in bed and let out a sigh, not sure I’m ready to face him just yet but not wanting to be rude either. “Uh yeah.”

He opens the door and leans on the frame. I can’t help but to look at his arms. The curves and lines that form his muscles protrude in just the right way. I tear my gaze away and look him in the eyes, which in this instant is worse than looking at his body. I feel like I get a tiny piece of him every single time I look at them. I’m drawn to them like a moth to a flame. I tear my eyes away and look back down at a cooing Lily.

“I bought you an egg sandwich,” he says. “It’s getting cold.”

“Thanks,” I murmur, tucking a stray piece of hair behind my ear. “I’ll be right down.”

“How’s she doing?” he asks, motioning toward Lily.

“She’s great,” I say with a smile because I know it’s the truth. She is thriving and beautiful and strong and that has everything to do with me. Every single doubt, every single negative word that my parents spewed at me about not being ready to take care of a child was false and it gives me a surge of pride in knowing that I’ve proved them wrong, even if they’ll never know it.

“Good. That’s really good.”

The insecurity I’ve felt since we had our conversation this morning returns. I don’t want my staying here to be full of anger or animosity. I know that I lied to him but I keep hoping that he’ll see that lying was my only choice at the time. “Logan?”

“Yeah.”

“Are we okay?”

He lets out a breath. “Yeah Mia, we’re okay. I get it, alright?” He states, crossing his arms over his chest. He looks guarded, defensive and I can’t help but to feel a little sad about it. “I understand why you did what you did. You’re a legal adult now so it doesn’t even matter. Nothing bad happened to you, you’ve done a great job with Lily, and you’re making it work. It’s over.”

“But you don’t trust me, right?” I ask, biting my lower lip, clearly showing my nerves about his answer.

“Do you need me to trust you? I’m not your boyfriend and I’m not your father.”

“No, but you’re my friend.”

“Friends, huh?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. “Do you trust me?”

I avert my gaze, looking past him and out to the hallway rather than at him. He knows, gets enough about me to know that I don’t trust him. I don’t trust anyone, and I know that I’m a hypocrite for wanting him to trust me when I can’t give him the same thing. That I’m incapable of it because life has taught me that trusting people gets you nothing but heartbroken and hurt. I hate that I’m this jaded at eighteen, that I’ve felt enough pain to get me through a lifetime, but if I could choose to let myself trust somebody, I would choose to trust him.

“Alright,” he says, putting me out of my misery. “I can live with friendship.” He pushes himself off the door frame and shoots me a smile before walking away.

Logan watches Lily while I eat breakfast and take a shower; it’s strange not having to rush through these seemingly normal tasks, to have someone around to give me a break, even if it’s only for fifteen minutes. I don’t want to take advantage of him but God it feels good to have a little time to myself. After my shower I head out of my room in search of Logan and Lily. I pass an open door on my way downstairs and come across the two of them in the bedroom adjacent to mine. Lily is in her play yard while Logan is sitting on the floor with a toolbox setting up a crib. I’m confused by the scene being played out before me. It seems natural yet wrong, a contradiction.

“Ah what are you doing?” I ask.

“Hey, I’m putting this crib together for Lily. I thought it would be good for her to have a place to sleep while she’s here.”

“You bought her a crib?” I ask, the disbelief evident in my voice. Why would he buy something as permanent as a piece of furniture for Lily when we’re only going to be here a few days. I’m not sure what to make of the gesture, but Logan seems to make an art form of confusing me. From the day I’ve met him, every interaction with him leaves me more and more mixed up about his intentions.

“Umm.”

“Logan, I can’t accept this. You have to take it back.” I try to sound firm, but he just glares at me looking annoyed by the fact that I’m protesting his generosity.

“Relax, Mia. I got it at a thrift store for practically nothing. You can take it with you when you go. She’s getting bigger, she’s not going to fit in a bassinet forever.”

He has a point but I hate the idea of accepting charity from him, especially from him. I desperately need for him to see me as capable, as someone who can take care of herself. “Alright fine, but I’ll pay you for it.”

He stops what he’s doing and looks up at me. “It’s a gift.”

“I don’t need your gift.” I challenge.

“Ahh but it’s not a gift for you. It’s a gift for Lily.” He declares with a smug look on his face.

“Are you always this controlling?”

“Yes.” He confirms and continues working on the crib again. “Are you always this irritating?”

“Yes… Can I at least help you?”

“That would be great. Why don’t you hold that piece over there up for me? It connects to this railing.”

I move quickly, getting the piece he needs and kneel on the ground next to him. “So now that you know my story, how about you?”

“What about me?”

“What’s your story?” I probe, trying to get him to open to me some. Maybe then the fact that I’ve spilled my past won’t seem like such a huge deal.

“No story, I’m just your average guy.”

“I don’t know about that. I think everyone has a story, Logan.”

I can swear I hear him groan. “Not me.”

“Okay. Do you have a girlfriend?” I ask nonchalantly, not wanting to let on that his answer matters to me one way or another. It shouldn’t matter, nothing good can come of me developing stronger feelings for Logan; the crush I’ve admitted to myself is bad enough.

He looks me in the eye and smirks. “No, I don’t have a girlfriend.”

I can feel the flush reaching up to my cheeks. Why his reaction embarrasses me I have no idea. I change the topic as quickly as I can. “What about your family?”

“What about them?”

“This is like pulling teeth. Where are they, do they live nearby?”

“Yes,” he says with a chuckle. “They’re nearby. My mom and dad live a couple towns over in the same house I grew up in. My sister lives about fifteen minutes away and my brother lives in New York City.”

“Are you all close?”

“Yeah. We’re pretty close.”

“What did they think about you becoming a cop?”

“Wasn’t what they wanted for me, but…they’re proud of me anyway.”

“It must be scary for them, huh?”

“I imagine it is scary at times, but they know that I’m very careful, that I don’t take any unnecessary risks.”

“Right.”

“Any more questions, detective?”

“Haha. You’re a regular comedian.”

For the first time today, I feel a little bit of that chemistry, that attraction that lingers between Logan and me.

Logan spends the rest of the day doing odds and ends around the house and I do my best to stay out of his way. I’m still not sure how to act around him or how to wander freely around his house without feeling uncomfortable. For the most part I lounge in my room—reading a book with Lily at my side, until he comes upstairs to let me know that dinner is ready.

I meet him downstairs, and he’s in the kitchen serving up a plate of pasta.

I look to the dining room and see he’s already set the table. “I hope you don’t mind pasta,” he says, handing me a plate.

“It looks great. I can’t remember the last time I’ve had a home cooked meal.” I regret saying that as soon as it leaves my mouth. I hate seeing that look in his eyes; it’s pity and the last thing I want is for Logan to pity me.

“Have you not been eating well?” The tone in his voice gets to me. It resonates through me, cloaking me with a feeling of sadness. It’s like his emotions have been transferred to me but I don’t comprehend them. The sadness confuses me, why would he be sad for me? A girl he barely knows.

“No, I have. It’s just that I don’t really like to cook just for myself,” I say, taking a seat at the table. He sits down across from me. “It’s just me and Lily and she obviously can’t eat what I make. It’s really pointless to make big meals so I just make a lot of soup, sandwiches, and TV dinners.”

He gives a slow nod and sighs. “I want you to feel free to take whatever you want, make whatever you want while you’re here.”

While you’re here…

For some reason those words are like a weight on my chest. When I ran away, I wanted my freedom, to be independent, to raise Lily on my own. Yet the thought of leaving this house causes that kind of involuntary reaction from me. I’ve only been here a day and already it feels more like a home than I’ve ever known, but I know that this is temporary and the longer I stay here the harder it will be to move on and that’s not good for any of us. 

“That reminds me,” I say, “Janet, my landlord called. She says my apartment should be ready to move back into on the fifteenth.”

“Okay.”

“You realize that’s almost two weeks right?” I query. Staying here for a few days is one thing but two weeks is a long time. I don’t want him to think that I’m taking advantage of him.

He picks up his phone and opens up the calendar. “I have a late shift on that Friday,” he says, picking up his fork and stabbing a piece of pasta. “I’ll take you by your apartment and we can make sure that it’s acceptable together.”