With her head caught in overflowing shrubbery and shoe drenched by the damn train fountain, Louise concluded she was having a terrible day.
It started with a phone call.
Though she would deny it to anyone and everyone listening, Louise wanted to know what happened at the restaurant even when she wasn't there. Blah blah work-life balance blah, that was her home. Basically a loved one. So sue her, she liked checking in on her loved ones. However, Louise worked more than one job, so the family routinely banned her from visiting in the name of "taking a break."
"Inherited the Bob Burnout" her ass. They just didn't want her in there showing them all up constantly.
Rules held very little meaning for her though. If Louise wanted something, she would get it. The solution came in the form of one gullible older sister.
She passed it off as wanting to help Tina kill time, it was pretty slow in the mornings after all, and like clockwork called at 11am on her "banned" days. They caught up, Louise heard about the goings on at the restaurant, win-win.
Except this time Tina actually had news.
"So after all that, they're done." Louise heard Tina twirl the corded phone once and let it spring away for emphasis. "Jessica and Maya finally adopted their little boy."
Halting the mindless walk around her apartment, Louise moved to the coffee table, grabbing a scrap of discarded junk mail and pen to jot a quick note to send the couple a gift. They had been waiting for what felt like years for the adoption to go through, and Louise double-underlined that she needed to ship them something good. Something that would say "actually, I'm the best ex-girlfriend-turned-friend you ever had because I send better presents." She set the pen down and hummed.
"Should I redownload FamilyCamily just to say congrats?"
"You don't have to. I already commented on her FamCamBam-that's what they call albums now-that the Belchers send their love."
"You're a real one, T," Louise said, plopping down onto the sofa. "Although you should have said we send our regards. All Game of Thrones style, you know?"
"Louise."
"What, I'm just kidding." She readjusted, laying down and letting her feet kick over one of the couch's arms. "Maybe. Kids can be a death sentence."
"Louise!"
"I mean, I'm happy for her! I love her and wish her the best always, but I don't know why you'd sign up for that long haul commitment."
Tina sighed on the other end of the line, a slight crackling echoing in her ear. They had this conversation before, and both were pretty firm on their stance. One saw parenthood as a blessing, and the other... didn't.
Rather than get into it, Louise heard Tina decide to switch gears, clearing her throat and everything.
"Actually, Rudy stopped by a little bit ago to talk with Zeke. They're trying for another kid too."
"Rudy and Zeke?"
"No, Rudy and Kaylee. His wife. The one he's married to?"
"Yeah yeah, I know who Kaylee is," Louise snorted. Messing with Tina was too easy sometimes. It took a few more seconds before what she had said clicked. "You know that's too much information, right? You basically just told me 'oh Rudy's having a ton of unprotected sex,' and I don't need to know that."
"You seemed okay knowing when Zeke and I were trying for Ava," Tina defended in a rush.
"The operative word is SEEMED. I'm happy that you're happy, but still. Sick."
"Come on, Louise. You're turning thirty in a few days. I thought you would have grown out of this by now." Tina shuffled what sounded like menus flopping down on the counter. "Also, what did you want for your birthday? I have something in mind, but just to make sure that..."
Oh.
The rest of Tina's words faded into static, but not because of the decades-old restaurant phone.
Oh no.
Suddenly, being upside down was a terrible choice of seating as vertigo hit Louise all at once. She tried to maneuver her way up, slowly, while Tina still rambled off different gifts she considered but ultimately rejected and why.
Was that happening this week? Thirty??
Louise prided herself on her desire to age gracefully, even with excitement to one day reach Fischoeder-levels of elderly eccentricity, but the reality of thirty being so close...
She needed to get off the phone.
"Uh huh, yeah that all sounds great," Louise interrupted talk about a laser pointer that could be seen from space. "But I think I, uhh, hear the paperboy calling. I gotta go."
"The paperboy? They still have those?" Tina paused then huffed into the receiver. "And what would they be doing up on your floor?"
"They're pretty darn resilient this news cycle. Can't keep the kids down, so they just- they have to come up. You gotta respect the hustle."
"Heh, so you admit that you can see how kids could be fun. A little more pushing, and I bet you'll come around." Tina peppered her voice to sound sly. "It's been a while since I visited. Do you mind if I bring your favorite by later?"
"You can, but I don't have a favorite," Louise mumbled half-heartedly, muscle memory taking over as she repeated the line she gave Tina every time it was insinuated she preferred her niece to her nephew. "I click with Ava, but Griff and I have fun too."
"I'm kidding. Griffin and Zeke have plans already though, so it'll just be us girls. We'll see you later after you deal with that Tenacious PB. Get it? Like Tenacious D but with paperb-"
Louise hung up on her.
Her leg bounced restlessly, all the energy in the world but nowhere to put it.
Tapping and tapping against the plastic of her phone case, she deliberated doing the unthinkable.
"Dammit," she cursed under her breath.
She redownloaded FamilyCamily.
The first image to greet her was of Jessica and Maya, holding up a piece of paper with a simple edit of "It's official!" over a bunch of redacted information. Louise "bammed" it with a heart and reiterated Tina's congrats because of course she did. She wasn't a monster.
Already on the app, she reasoned, might as well see what other people were up to.
Turned out? A lot.
Harley promoted her craft store, her family gathered around her in a pop-up tent at some farmer's market.
Louise's friend from college recently celebrated his anniversary on a cruise ship to Jamaica.
Chloe posted a photo of the ribbon-cutting ceremony at her newly renovated department store, huge wedding ring on full display.
It felt like miles of scrolling through nothing but success, and if she clicked over to her own profile, she knew she would find it blank.
An electric whirring at the door broke her attention.
"Great," Louise grumbled. She threw her phone to the other side of the couch and rolled up her sleeves. "I needed to work out some tension anyway."
She expected a burglar or maybe a Logan playing some dumb prank. Instead, she opened the door to her landlord crouched on the ground with his toolbox open and spread out in the hallway.
Taylor Fischoeder was a stark contrast to the Fischoeder she grew up with. Instead of a stainless white suit, Taylor could usually be found in a white undershirt, binder, and basketball shorts. He looked up at her oddly, like it was so weird she would want to know why he was at her door.
"Can I help you?" Louise asked, crossing her arms but gesturing to the small barricade at her feet.
"Do you know about switching doorknobs?"
"No."
"Then no. You can't help me," Taylor said as he wiped at his brow, box braids pulled back into a loose bun but a few baby hairs still sticking to the sweat there. "I do like the air current coming from inside though, so you can leave the door open."
"Alright, let me try this again." Louise took a deep breath. "What are you doing, and why didn't I get a notice about it?"
"Oh right."
Reaching behind him, he swiped paper from a stack and ripped off a line of duct tape, then stuck the note to her door rather than her open hands.
Louise swallowed her annoyance and read the paper. "Huh." She took it off her door and reread it. "You're switching our doorknobs for the ones with an electronic key fob?"
"You got it."
"That means you already fixed the forever puddle on the thirteenth floor? Right?"
Taylor sighed long and hard, the kind of sigh kids gave whenever asked to pick up after themselves. "I don't know how to do that yet, but I do know how to change a doorknob."
"But you get that you call someone else to do this part right? Being a landlord doesn't mean you have to be the one fixing things."
"Yeah, but that part sucks. I'd rather do this."
Louise nearly stuck the freshly crumpled doorknob notice into her mouth to keep from yelling at him but reminded herself that he was still young.
And he owned more property than she would ever know, gifted to him by his great cousin.
"I still think you should-"
Interrupting her with a loud, whirring drill, Taylor cupped a hand over his ear, "What?"
After waiting for him to stop, Louise tried again.
"The puddle-"
Again, Taylor pressed the button, screwing nothing but with her.
"You know what!" Louise yelled and shoved the base of the drill, Taylor ceasing the noise to keep from accidentally catching her. She clenched her fist and ducked her head. After a breath reigning herself back in, she pressed her hands together under her chin to explain. "I'm not having a great morning, so if you wouldn't mind finishing this some other time?"
"Ah, I already started, so... no? But hey if you're having a bad day, you should buy a boat."
"A boat."
"Yeah, a boat," Taylor said while nodding, going back to sorting through the different tools scattered around him. "Cheered me right up when I got mine. I had been wanting one for forever, but did you know they make you wait until you're sixteen for a license? In Texas, it's thirteen, lucky cowboy bastards."
"You are not sixteen??"
"Nooo, but I forgot about the dream for a few years until I was sad. Look at me," he chuckled, shaking his head. "Didn't get my first boat until twenty-two. They roasted me so hard at the Fischoeder reunion."
Through gritted teeth, Louise managed, "As nice as a boat sounds, I don't think my bike could tow it."
"You have a motorcycle? What kind? I love my Harley, but I won't lie I've been eyeing adding a Yamaha to my collection."
Completely and utterly done with the youngest rich person she had ever met, Louise turned to stomp away. To where? Who the hell cared.
"Wait wait wait."
She froze mid-stomp and looked back over her shoulder.
"You're gonna get locked out, and I don't want to have to come back to let you in. Let me check that these work." Taylor picked up two electronic keys, testing them against the doorknob not yet installed. They both made some sort of clicking noise and were handed to Louise with a nod. "When you get back from boat shopping, just hold these over this part, and it'll unlock."
"Will do."
The scenery around her blurred, and she vaguely recognized that she had made it outside to the apartment's courtyards. Appreciating the abundance of greenery and well-kept, if overflowing, gardens was the furthest thing from her mind while a storm of thoughts turned over in her mind again and again,
Louise did not own children, property, or boats.
And Louise was turning thirty.
The thoughts raged on in a loop as she paced the length of the apartment's hidden gem.
She was supposed to be the successful one, but what did she have to show for it?
Stuck in a cruel loop, her concentration only broke with the sudden slide of her foot. Looking down, a smear of dog turd that an irresponsible owner had left behind marked her path.
Normally, she would curse about how people were stupid, and the courtyard was stupid for not having dog litter bags, and the world was stupid because there wasn't a warning that popped up to keep people from stepping in poop.
Instead, Louise's eyes watered.
She didn't even have a dog because she wasn't home enough to take care of one.
Closing her eyes, she tried to choke down that thought before realizing the smell had drifted up. Nose wrinkling, her eyes flew open to check her surroundings for any way to clean off her shoe.
A gurgling from behind her reminded Louise that, yes, there was a source of water right there.
Bushes and a bed of small garden pebbles flanking every side of it, a daunting iron water feature made to resemble a locomotive sat in the middle of the courtyard.
Thanking the guy who built the place for his massive train boner, Louise hopped past the shrubbery meant to keep her out. After wiping what she could off on the ground, she angled her foot into the fountain to get the rest of it off. She'd wash off her foot, then get back to pacing out her feelings until she was all better and then everything would be fine. Just perfect even.
But that wasn't what the universe wanted for her.
"Shit!"
While wiggling one foot in the water to free herself of the smeared turd, Louise's other foot slid on the garden pebbles until she tumbled face first right into the weigela bushes.
She knew what kind of plants they were because of the thirty question quiz the damn apartment manager made her take to see what residents thought would look best in the courtyard. Rumor had it that Annie didn't use the actual results. It was all a performative waste of time.
Just like Louise's life.
After a long, long, torturously long, sigh that turned into a garbled yell, Louise went to free herself. But couldn't.
Her upper torso caught in branches in a way that she would need to move straight up to release, but the foot in the fountain was twisted under decorative train tracks, refusing to give her the leverage she needed.
Her phone was up in her apartment, guarded by a new doorknob. The courtyard was blocked from street view, so no one would see her that way. Her best bet was to wait for Annie or Nadia to eventually come by when the apartment's office hours closed.
Taking a page from her sister's book, Louise groaned and accepted her fate, choosing to lay down and die on this terrible day.
Minutes or hours passed, she didn't care which, until she heard the door from the apartment to the courtyard open and the resulting steps of someone walking her way. She didn't bother with an introduction. What would she say?
"Hey, I'm Louise, and I'm actually more than the ass you see before you. Free me from the stone, and I'll grant you no wishes because I have nothing."
Yeah that could-
"If you're trying to waterboard yourself, you put the wrong end in the fountain."
Fuck. Her. Life.
Nope, she wouldn't stoop low enough to beg for Logan's help. Absolutely not. Death was the only option from here on out.
Louise refused to rise to the bait. In the silence, she heard the crunch of garden rocks as he moved closer to her. He sighed deeply.
"What happ-"
"Fuck off."
Logan nudged her side with his foot, nearly a kick but too light. "I'd like to, but Nadia won't let me."
She mentally sent a sharp glare toward the nineteen-year-old at the front desk, utterly incapable of minding her own gothy business.
"What, did she tell you my dark energies are scaring away the spirits?"
"... yeah, something like that."
She waited for him to get bored or walk away, but she forgot how much he liked to tease. The shifting of rocks under his feet signaled he had crouched closer to her.
"You know. If you have an affinity for 'bush,' I happen to know someone who-"
Louise swung her fist, the one appendage not tied up, out in the direction of Logan's voice, failing to hit. From his laugh, she had failed miserably.
"When I get out of here," Louise snarled, "I'm coming for your throat."
"How are you going to reach it? I'm all the way up here and your tiny gremlin hands can't clear a bush."
"I'll show you clearing a Bush!"
Louise struggled harder, rage fueling her to get out and do some damage. As was the case for the past half hour, she went nowhere.
"It's actually kind of sad," Logan said, apparently still there. "I feel sad for you. That's huge on my part."
"Is it," Louise huffed, flat and indifferent.
"It is. I'm not used to this pity thing that's happening. Usually when I look at you, I get some combination of annoyance or spite."
"Don't forget horny."
"That was ONE ti-"
"One time that I caught you staring at my ass, yeah and I'll never let you live it down, Logan. I'll bet you're staring right now."
The pebbles crunched again under his feet as he swayed. "It's kind of all there is to look at, so I'm not sure how this is my fault."
"You think I can't find a way to blame you?"
"You could, but I'd fight you tooth and nail about it."
"Predictable."
"Would you like me to not be talking to your ass for this conversation?"
Technically, yes, she would like to not be stuck anymore, but the logistics of getting there required the help of a con man.
A con man who wasn't very patient apparently, she realized as Logan cleared his throat and asked, "Well?"
"I'm thinking! Favors from you come with a catch, and I'm out of tiramisu for you to steal."
"Steal is a strong word. I prefer 'paid for my services with.'"
Louise snorted.
"Tell you what." Logan, done with crouching, stretched up to his full height again. "I'll fish you out if you tell me what's wrong."
"And how is that a win for you?"
"You clearly don't want to talk about it, and I clearly like annoying you."
She sighed, wishing she had rocks to kick at him. She managed something of a shrug as she answered him. "It's nothing. Just everyone and their mother is having kids and boats, and..." her voice dropped to a mumble, "my birthday is coming up..."
"Ohh, I get it." Logan hummed, proud of himself. "You're turning thirty and all your stupid friends are having stupid children."
"What part of this-" Louise, with hair full of twigs and leaves, gestured to her foot still stuck under the train track of the water fountain, "-says 'oh I know what'll cheer her up. I'll quote a Bo Burnham song at her.'"
"It's a good song."
Though she meant to respond, probably with something sarcastic, she heard the crunching pebbles of Logan's movement. His hands came around her waist, and he tugged. Once her face was free, he twisted so that her foot came unstuck from the fountain.
Logan wasn't gentle, and she ended up taking more of the bush than she wanted with her, but she gave him credit because she was free.
They clambered out of the garden, Louise pushing Logan's hands away while he rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. Her fully drenched shoe, sock and all, hit the ground with a wet squelch, and she was already muttering about what a hassle it would be to dry.
"You don't really... chill do you?"
She stared at him incredulously. "Look at me. What is there to be chill about?" Louise scoffed, shaking her foot at him. "All high and mighty. Like you wouldn't also be a worked up mess if you were in my poop covered shoes?"
Staring up at the sky in contemplation, Logan finally shrugged.
"True," he said, uncrossing his arms and pointing at himself. "But this worked up mess also happens to be the king of creating a relaxed environment. I invented chill."
"Please. I see what you get like after your cousins visit. Besides, I chill for eight hours a day. Then I wake up."
"No, no no no. Don't try to pull a fast one with me. That's rest. I'm talking chill."
"It's..." Louise thought about the restaurant and her freelance work then shrugged. "Been a while, but that doesn't mean I don't know how."
"Let me guess. You, at best, take your shoes off and watch a movie you've already seen."
"I like Mad Max. Is that a crime?"
"No, but it's not chill."
"Like you could do any better."
He blew a raspberry in her direction, wiping off any stray dirt from his venture into the garden. "I absolutely could knock your dumbass version of chill out of the park."
"Prove it."
Oh god.
Did she just invite him to spend more time with her?
"You..." Logan's eyes narrowed, "want me... to help you chill?"
Oh god, she just invited him to spend more time with her.
"Whatever, not like you could do it anyway," Louise retracted the offer the best way she knew how, through indifference and shrugging off.
It had the opposite effect, Logan taking it as a challenge with a nod, slow and sure of himself.
"Oh I could do it. I could crush it even. Yeaahh, you know this is my new project today. Get ready to chill Bill, Louisey Liu."
"Terrible name. Never try to be clever again."
"That was good, and you know it. I didn't even prepare it or anything." He signaled to the door. "Come on, the first step will be getting out of the poop shoes."
She didn't move on just yet, stopping to free her hair of the little branches and leaves poking at her scalp through her beanie. Each brush only revealed more debris, so she continued to comb her fingers through her hair,
Apparently, that took too long, and he sighed. "Look if I have to breadcrumb you back upstairs, I will, but I'd prefer not to."
"What would you use as bait?" Louise asked, genuinely unsure what he would try to persuade her with.
"I don't know. Probably... motorcycle parts?"
She snorted, gesturing for them to move on with her elbow while she continued to pick at her hair. "Name one motorcycle part."
"Tire, engine, headlight, seat." Logan ticked off his fingers while the other hand opened the door to the lobby for them.
Her wet shoe plopped against the tile, a disturbing noise, but the apartment's employees said nothing. She knew they were there, too aware of Nadia's eyes for the whole trek to the elevator.
Whatever. If Nadia didn't want water and remnants of the flower bushes scattered around the lobby floor, then maybe they should have picked less fall-into-able plants and fountains.
"If you had the money to leave engines just laying around," Louise said, returning to their conversation once out of the front desk's line of sight, "I don't know what you're still doing living here."
She patted her beanie for any last plant bits as he called the elevator.
"Oh you know." He turned back and picked a leaf she had missed out of her hair. Tickling her nose with it once, he dropped the offending greenery before she could smack it out of his hands. "I have my reasons."
She didn't have a response for that.
He inhaled to speak again but caught himself. He must have let that thought go, opting to pull out his phone.
"Are you hungry?"
"Starving," she answered honestly.
"What do you like to get from Putting on the Stickz?"
"Can't go wrong with their corn dogs."
"Huh, okay," Logan said, swiping at his phone. "What do you think of the cheese sticks from Almighty Cheesus?"
"It's basically the only thing worth getting there."
"Pop, Lock, and Top It?"
"Jalapeño poppers with the zest sauce topping."
"Fries Guys?"
"Believe it or not, the sandwiches are better than the fries."
Logan smacked his lips, humming to himself while he continued to swipe and ask about more places until she broke.
"Can you just pick one already?"
"Fine fine." He pocketed his phone. "We'll get Putting on the Stickz."
"Then why didn't you just go with it in the first place?!" Louise threw her hands up as the elevator doors finally opened and they moved in. Punching their floor, she continued. "You frustrating, frustrating man."
"I know, I'm the worst."
Once back in front of her door with the fancy new doorknob, she fumbled momentarily with the keys. They exchanged a few words about how stupid management was when it came to renovations, but Logan was patient for her to gather her bearings.
Finally opening the apartment, Louise slipped out of her shoes and peeled off the soaking sock only to throw them back outside to dry. If someone wanted to steal a single shoe and sock, let them. They obviously needed it more than she did.
"First things first," Logan sang, clapping his hands together. "You should go ahead and shower."
He made no other remarks, heading further into the living room and clearing off the coffee table. The junk that had piled there, including the note to send Jessica a present, all got discarded into a clump out of sight.
"I don't need to shower," she scoffed.
"Disagree. You smell like all the worst parts of a dog."
"What would you know? You don't have a dog either."
Fluffing her couch pillows, Logan didn't look her way. "I've been around them, and if they've been outside they smell bad. Sometimes like they rolled around in something dead. Like you do."
"I did roll around in something dead. My spirit."
He paused his preparation to give her a withering stare.
"This type of mopey doesn't suit you."
Still not clueing her in on what he was doing, he shoved past her to inspect the kitchen, the fridge, and the pantry.
"Where's your tea?" Logan asked, head in a cabinet.
"I don't do tea." To spite him, Louise took one of the pillows he had fluffed and flattened it back out. "I have coffee."
"But not even- you have to have one thing of chamomile around here somewhere?"
He popped out to stare at her, but she only raised an eyebrow at him.
Groaning, he took out his phone, then squinted up at the ceiling for what seemed like some mental math. He nodded and held out a hand.
"Gimme your extra key. I've got to step out."
Despite every instinct telling her this was a bad idea, Louise deposited the key in his hand, only for it to be pocketed a second later.
"I'm getting that back," she warned and pointed at him menacingly.
Mistake. While her arm had been raised, she got an unfortunate whiff of her pits. Maybe a rinse was in order. Or, in odor. She internally snickered.
"Yeah yeah, I don't want to keep your key anyway. I'll be back in like... I want to say fifteen?" Logan guessed, already at her door. "But take your time in the shower. Make a whole thing out of it."
"Don't tell me how to use my time."
"Okay then, don't enjoy yourself. No candles. Have a terrible, rushed time."
After he left, Louise stuck her tongue out at the door. Of course Logan would recommend candles. The one time she had walked in on him in the bath, he had a whole set up, complete with mood lighting, a movie playing, and bubbles.
In his defense, he hadn't expected company. In her defense, she thought his open door and trashed living room meant someone was robbing him. But hey, she came away with the better parking spot in the garage, so...
Picking up fresh clothes from her bedroom, she stripped out of the ones that stunk of fountain water and failed potential. Fed up with slipping, Louise slowly and carefully made her way into the shower that she set at the perfect temperature: scalding.
She let her mind drift and lost track of how long she stayed there, imagining all the different paths her life could have taken while under a stream of water.
Maybe if she had followed Jessica to an out of state college instead of staying local...
Maybe if she had taken that job at that high-end Japanese restaurant...
Maybe if she had settled for-
"Are you in there?"
Louise, covered in lavender soap and fully naked, pulled back the shower curtain to stare at the closed bathroom door incredulously.
"Where else would I be?"
"Can I come in?" Logan asked, his enunciation crisp like he was pressed right up against the crack of the door.
She blinked several times before shaking sense into herself. "Is this a sex thing?"
It was quiet. Too quiet. Until:
"Not unless you want it to be."
A look he couldn't see through the door was shot his way, but Louise shook it off.
So what in the world would he want in for? She looked around but only one other possibility crossed her mind. "You have a toilet across the hall, asswipe."
"It's not a bathroom thing either. It's a good surprise."
"Riiight," she hoped her sarcasm leaked through the wooden frame. "Because we've been known to give each other good surprises."
"I've been nice today, haven't I?"
"Barely." A memory of him quite literally kicking her while she was down was still fresh in her mind. Regardless, natural curiosity won out. Besides, if she could handle being around him in the bath, then he could handle being around her in the shower. She pulled the curtain tighter around her frame and sighed. "You can come in but keep your eyes to yourself."
He opened the unlocked door-it never occurred to her that he would try to bother her so why lock it?-and walked in backwards. He blindly stretched an arm out behind him, extending an open bottle to her.
"Is that a beer?" Louise asked, reaching for the offered drink.
"Yeah, I got distracted looking for tea, and now we're doing this." He still didn't turn as she took it from him, letting his arm drop. "Have you ever had a cold beer in a hot shower?"
She made a noise in the back of her throat indicating no, she hadn't. "... is this like the straight white man equivalent of having wine in the bath?"
"Exactly. Just try it." Logan set something else aside on the sink, but she couldn't see what unless she poked past the curtain. He moved towards the door, calling over his shoulder but only turning his head enough to see his chin. "Put those on. And yell if you want a refill."
The door shut behind with a soft whap.
Letting go of the curtain, she stepped back into the shower spray, the steam hitting the bottle in her hand.
Rotating the beer, nothing indicated she wouldn't like it. The label seemed promising even. It was just strange to her, like the people who brushed their teeth in the shower. Those were different activities.
One tentative sip, and she tossed out her predisposed notions with a moan.
Damn. Maybe she did want to be a dad someday; this was not bad at all.
Before visions of her stopping to watch construction projects with crossed arms and a sense of involvement consumed her, Louise finished washing. A few leisurely drinks punctuated the interim moments of the routine, and it, admittedly, was nice. It forced her to slow down, be intentional, and appreciate the feeling, the hot water at her back versus the chilly glass in her hand.
She almost didn't want to get out, but then Logan would know she had in some capacity chilled out.
"Can't let him get a win in that early," she mumbled to herself, turning off the water and leaving her empty bottle on the shower caddy.
As she stepped out to dry off, she again noticed the pile he had left. They were clothes. Compared to the jeans she had picked out, she decided that whatever weird kink he had was worth it for the soft cotton he dropped off.
Towel drying as best she could before tossing the damp cloth over the shower rod, Louise slipped the big t-shirt over her head and paused halfway when a familiar scent wafted to her nose, something floral with a hint of spice (ginger?).
This was his.
For some reason, she assumed he also bought clothes when he ran out to get the beer. It hadn't occurred to her that he would do the much more logical thing and stop by next door. She shook her head and continued.
Why he would go to any of these lengths was a damn mystery, but as she finished tying up a pair of sweatpants, she also decided she didn't care. They were really comfortable.
Dry-ish and dressed, Louise stepped out of the bathroom.
"How was your shower beer?" Logan, hand on his chin and smug, immediately jumped in front of her path before she could reach the living room.
Her eyes narrowed, not wanting to admit how much she enjoyed it.
"Fine."
"Mhmm." He stretched his arms out, almost in a flex but not quite. "Are you ready to trust that I know what I'm talking about now?"
"... no. What is this?" Louise asked, tugging at the oversized sleeve of her borrowed shirt and changing the conversation.
Hie eyes traveled down to the outfit he had picked out for her. He opened his mouth once then shut it. Some of his bravado fell as he lowered his arms to shrug. "Pjs. You're a girl, so all of your stuff probably fits you, right?"
"Girl?"
"Woman, she-beast, whatever. My stuff was guaranteed to be too big, so you're welcome."
She neglected to inform him she did in fact own at least one article of clothing that dwarfed her. He didn't need to know that. He especially didn't need to know she already knew what it was like wearing his shirt.
"Now," Logan put his hand on the small of her back and guided her to the couch, "what do you usually do to turn off your brain?"
"I go to sleep at night."
"No like... what do you do when you're not plotting revenge or accomplishing a task?"
Louise only shrugged. He wanted to prove himself as the best at chilling, so she would not make it easy on him.
His mouth twitched, and he shuffled on his feet. "Do, uh... do you smoke?"
"Not usually. It's fine, but sometimes I'm- I like being in control."
When he didn't follow up, she furrowed her brow and tried to read what he wasn't telling her, but Logan refused to let her in. Moving his hands to her shoulders, he somewhat gently shoved her to sit on the couch.
"Alright, I've got my work cut out for me then, especially since you're holding so much stress everywhere."
"I am not," she argued, shifting deeper into the couch.
"Yes you are. You're holding stress here," he poked her forehead, "here," he poked the side of her mouth, "and here." He finished by swiping his thumb under her eye, like he was catching an eyelash.
They stared at each other, neither breaking eye contact. His teasing smirk faded, but he didn't find another place to point out, even with his hand still close to her cheek.
Louise cleared her throat. "Could the stress be because you're poking me?"
"With those eye bags? Nah that's years in the making. Here." He moved away, reaching behind him to the coffee table where he had apparently gone supply hunting, a filled bag from the pharmacy sitting next to his headphones. Grabbing the pair and the aux cord hanging out, he held them to her. "Do you need me to show you how to wear these?"
"I know how to put on headphones."
"You don't even know how to walk past a fountain."
"I do too!"
"You can prove it next time we're taking a stroll through the gardens." Logan plucked her phone from the couch and connected it. Humming, Logan punched in her passcode. "You seem like you could dig some Still Woozy."
"Don't recognize that name at all." Louise sighed in a way that sounded suspiciously like her sister. "Guess I really am old and out of touch."
"Oh god. Get over it and listen to the damn music."
The volume increased, some kind of indie pop drowning him out. She was quiet for a moment, taking it in while he went to dig around in the Bet the Pharm bag, but the lyrics caught her off guard.
Removing one of the cups, Louise asked, "Why is this guy comparing himself to his girlfriend's mom?"
Logan stopped rifling through plastic to glare at her.
"Put them back on."
"The lyrics are distracting from the chill," she defended.
Rolling his eyes, he finally retrieved two birthday candles, a three and a zero, from his bag and set the items down. It was her turn to glare, but he ignored it in favor of coming back to the couch. He swatted at the hand holding the earphone away until it popped back over her ear.
Lips pursed, she paused the song and opened her mouth to argue. He beat her to it, holding a finger over her lips.
"Shhh. Don't listen to the words. Just vibe."
"Vibe."
"Viiiibe." Logan spread his arms, palms down, as he dragged out the syllable. "Unless you don't think you could do it?"
With a huff, she pressed play.
Logan left her alone, only reappearing once to put another beer in her hand then mimed that he was going out again. She waved him off.
What a weird Saturday.
Listening to music wasn't so bad, even if it wasn't her favorite genre. She understood the purpose, the dreamy quality of the playlist was upbeat if a little trippy.
Her eyes fell on the coffee table. More specifically, to the candles he left behind. She stared at the lime green numbers in disdain. It was their fault she was here, dizzy and a little confused on what all was happening. Louise went to knock them to the ground on principle but stopped as her eyes fell out of focus.
Oh, she was dizzy.
She definitely shouldn't be having a second beer on an empty stomach, she concluded and set the one in her hand out of reach for the time being.
With the music drowning out other distractions, she jumped when Logan returned again with more bags.
A lot more bags.
There had to have been at least a dozen different to-go bags in his arms, the "one trip" philosophy in full effect. She tried counting all the different logos but couldn't make them all out in their swaying. Putting on the Stickz, Fries Guys, Almighty Cheesus...
She took off the headphones, setting them aside almost in a daze.
"What..." Louise blinked several times. "This must have cost a dumbass fortune in delivery fees."
"See, but I can afford it," he said as he plopped everything down on the coffee table, knocking the pharmacy bag to the ground, indifferent to the clatter it made. "I don't have dumbass kids to support."
"What all did you get?"
"Everything, basically. Whatever you named earlier."
"You didn't only just order a thing of jalapeño poppers from Pop, Lock, and Top It?"
"I did." He rifled through the bags and grabbed one of the smaller ones to hold up for her attention. "And extra sauce too."
One by one, Logan opened up the bags and produced single items from each of the restaurants to set before her. It never occurred to her that anyone could just go and get food from different places to eat at once. Maybe like a dinner here and dessert from there, but picking out a smorgasbord of appetizers and sides and entrees never crossed her mind.
"We're not going to finish this," she said, mouth still open in awe.
"We don't have to. Take one bite then put it away for later. Come on, it's fast food. It'll last a decade in your fridge." Last bag to unwrap, he brandished a silver tin. "And we have a cake from MasterCakes. Happy birthday."
While he went to stick candles in her cake, he made a sarcastic comment about his singing voice and told her there would be no birthday song, but he expected one when his birthday came around.
Oh. This wasn't just a bid to get her to relax. In one quip, Louise's nerves settled as all the extra effort made more sense.
He was throwing her a party to get her to throw him one too when his birthday came around, she determined as he lit the candles.
"Make a wish," Logan demanded, holding the cake up to her, the vanilla icing with rainbow sprinkles shoved nearly to her nose.
Blowing out the candles, she wished in the future he would be more straightforward about all his stupid plans.
"I'm surprised you didn't try to hit me with a birthday pie," she said finally.
"Well since wittle baby is having such a hard time today, I figured I might as well let her have this one. Are you ready for birthday shots?"
The whiplash of the cake being set down and producing a bottle of liquor he had hidden under the table sent her reeling. Maybe she didn't want him to be that straightforward if he was going to hit her with surprises like that.
"It's the middle of the day??"
"No duh," he said and poured shots into two red solo cups like some kind of college heathen. "That's why they call it day drinking."
"A beer or Bloody Mary, I get, but we cannot do shots before 1pm."
"Who's going to stop us?" Logan asked and put the cup in her hand.
She swirled the cup until a grin broke out. Huh. There really wasn't anyone to stop them. "Usually I'm the bad influence."
"I've been called worse."
"So have I," Louise said, clinking the red plastic with his cup and downing the shot in the next go.
It hit fast, a burn blooming down her throat, and she remembered a little too late why the food was in front of them. She swayed slightly but took a breath, batting off Logan's steadying hand.
"I'm fine, I'm fine. Let's eat though before I pass out."
Still not confident in her ability to stay upright, Logan stared on suspiciously.
"If you don't sit, I'm gonna get nauseous craning my neck to look at you. Tall, gangly bastard."
"Not gangly," he mumbled. "Jus' tall."
"Sit!"
Holding up his hands in surrender, he took the seat next to her only to immediately dig into the food. He wasn't shy about the crazed way he tore through a chicken wing in between sips of beer, and she respected that. When she did the same, he nodded his own approval before they devolved into wordless expressions of enjoyment.
She had to admit, there was a kind of sick thrill from eating an egg roll and esquite back to back.
They mumbled to each other between bites, comparing salt to cheese to meat to sweet.
After polishing off the last of the wings, Logan wiped his mouth and hands on a napkin with a satisfied sigh.
"That hit the spot."
"Are you finished already?" Louise asked, grabbing the Fries Guys sandwich. "You know there's a whole table still here, right?"
"That was round one. Round two comes with entertainment. And another shot."
"You're killing me."
"If only it was that easy," he sighed and reached for the bottle. "You're unfortunately more resilient."
"Damn straight."
And they knocked back another round of vodka.
Without a word, Logan reached for her remote, flipping on the tv and navigating to the DreamStream app. He was met with a login page.
"You don't have an account?"
"No way," Louise said, mouthful of turkey club. "That shit's expensive. I'm not subscribing to any of it, and you and Jizzney Plus can suck my dick on that."
"You are purposefully fighting me every step of the way, huh?"
"Weird, it's almost like we're enemies and that's the whole point?"
Scoffing, he punched at the keys on the remote then grumbled, "Hate these stu- you need a remote with voice command."
Despite his annoyance, Logan finished putting in his email and password.
"I saw that," she said, pointing at the tv.
"And? What are you going to do?" He pitched his voice up an octave in sarcastic fear. "Oh no, Louise! Don't mess with my watching algorithm or change my profile picture. Please!" He shook his head. "You don't have access to the recovery email, so it's not like you can lock me out. Write down the password for all I care."
The corner of her mouth tugged up at his flippant gestures. He should know better when she was concerned, but sure. Maybe he didn't care as he scrolled through the different suggestions, looking for something in particular. The row of recommended and previously watched titles piqued her interest.
Louise hummed. "Lot of romcoms on here I see."
"Actually, I lied, I do care. Look away."
"No no, you were sooo okay with me seeing what you watch. Still going strong with trash movies, huh?"
Logan grunted. "They make me feel things."
"Feel like a little bitch, you mean?"
Snickering as he shoved at her side, Louise was unrepentant and shoved him right back.
"I don't HAVE to help you chill out. I could just leave."
"Wasn't you coming up here some dumb pride thing? You could absolutely just leave."
"Tell me to go then."
But neither moved and neither spoke.
"Fine," Louise relented finally. "You can turn on one of your chick flicks or horse girl movies, but I will talk the entire time."
"It's not a chick flick." He glared over at her. "And I don't do horse girl movies. I'm gonna put something on that you'll enjoy waaayyy more as an adult."
"I've been watching R-rated movies since I was in diapers."
"Not an R-rated movie," he dismissed and continued his scrolling.
Scratching at her chin, she took a sip of beer and hummed.
"... is it porn?"
Logan froze, but he broke himself out of the spell with a teasing eyebrow. "Did you... want to watch porn?"
"No! But I don't know what's so adult that you could put on besides that."
With a triumphant ha!, he found what he had been searching for. A swath of blue and green enveloped the screen, and she could already hear David Attenborough's smooth tones.
"It's Planet Earth, bae-byyy."
"Oh come on," she whined. "A nature documentary?"
"Trust me on this. The name of the game is take a drink every time he says 'natural world.' If he says wondrous, take a shot."
"Not even close to 5pm, and we're getting hammered."
"I'll drink to that!" Logan cheersed their beers together, boyish smile taking over as she agreed to his dumb plan.
They both might as well have been in third grade watching a Bill Nye tape for how quickly they entrenched themselves in the narrative unfolding before them. Hypnotic colors and animals grabbed their attention and refused to let go, and the only sounds other than David Attenborough were their astonished whispers to each other.
Like:
"That's so many fish."
"So many fish."
And:
"How do you think they got the camera there?"
"Magic probably."
All of which were punctuated by a variation of sips and the occasional shot.
By the... second? third? episode, Louise was well on her way to a nice buzz, alcohol somehow winning out over the plethora of junk food and icing she devoured.
When David made a comment about the lifespan of some fuzzy creature, she snorted.
"Oh look. Another species that dies by the time they're thirty. Just like me."
"Uggghh." Logan's head lolled back to rest on the couch as he groaned.
"What?"
"Your life isn't over at thirty, and you knoooow that. You're being abuse- obtuse on purpose."
"How would you know?? You don't know me."
"You gotta start coming up with a better catchphrase because I absolutely do. Like how I found you earlier?" Logan waved his hand as if to rewind the day. "All... face down ass up in the courtyard."
"Yeah," Louise blew on the lip of her empty beer bottle, "I recall."
"Did you care that anyone saw you? Stared at you or judged you?"
"No."
"But would you have cared even just a teeeeensy bit when you were younger?"
She wanted to deny it, but she shrugged and set her bottle on the table to avoid eye contact.
He lifted his head finally, pointing with emphasis at an intangible space in between them. "See, and that's the great part about getting older too. You stop caring about what other people think, and it's awesome."
"But... okay, but- ... okay even if it's not about what other people think... am I doing the right thing?" Louise slumped further into the couch, twirling a phone in her hand that she didn't remember picking up. "It jus' seems like everyone else is at a certain stage, but I'm not there. I don't have a house or a kids or a boat."
"You have a pretty sweet bike."
"True."
With a quick crack of his knuckles, he leaned forward, more passionate now.
"There's no right way to do any of this. If somebody else wants to follow a plan that some guy decided was best for everyone, sure." Logan lifted a foot and nudged her. "But I think he was a stupid guy with a stupid schedule. Success is, you know, different, and if we're having fun then I think we're doing okay."
"You said we."
"Who did?"
"You."
"Me?"
"Yeah, you said we're doing okay."
"Oh, because we are," he tsked, straightening in his seat. "I'm older than you, but we're in the same... not-boat. I don't have a kids or house. I have no money and no prospects-"
Louise cut him off with a way too loud laugh that she tried to cover with her palm.
Clearing her throat, she reached forward and grabbed more snacks. It was sobering time. Logan must have thought the same as he shoved cake in his mouth. They ate in silence while watching more Planet Earth.
"I'm surprised you don't smoke," he said finally and pointed at her cheese stick dumped in mashed potatoes and gravy. "That is a stoner move."
"You know a lot about stoner moves?"
"Ha, yeah." He flicked at the label on his beer, lost in thought as he replied. "I uhh... used to smoke a lot back in college. A lot."
"Why?"
"Is heavy."
Louise readjusted to face him instead of the tv, propping herself up with her elbows on the arm of the couch behind her. "Come onnn, we've been digging into my psyche, but now that it's your turn you chicken out?"
Logan rubbed his neck while he stared out into space. Even as he looked in the distance, he suddenly seemed more clear, more focused.
"Alright alright. There was... more than smoking." He kept rubbing his neck. "It was just so- just so different to not have someone in my ear telling me I should do this or that, be better, saying I'm not good enough. Even when I moved away, I could still hear her in my head."
Clenching and unclenching his fist a few times, Logan sighed and leaned to pick up a new bottle, open it, and let the cap clink onto the coffee table.
"Wish I could say it started small and got worse after a while, but, you know, when have I ever half-assed fucking something up?"
He laughed but Louise didn't join him, still listening. Logan took a swig of his beer, avoiding her gaze
"When I... did stuff, I didn't feel real. If I wasn't real, then there was no way that voice was real either. I stopped going to class, and the folks cut me off when my grades slipped. I ran out of money and started couch surfing until, yeah, my friends got tired of my bumming and threw me out too."
"Caleb?" Louise asked because she knew they went to college together. The redhead was a clown, but he wasn't a heartless clown.
"Caleb had his own stuff going on. He did help pull me out, but I also had to make that decision myself and... anyway, I did. Eventually. Just took a lot of wrong turns first."
After a sigh, he finally turned back to look her in the eyes. Neither said anything, and his shoulders slumped momentarily before perking back up.
"Therapy is going great, thank you for asking," Logan said.
"You're still going? Is it Dr. uhh... Sampson? Swanson?"
"Hell no. It's been me and Terri for, god, like eight years now. I should get her something."
"Maybe a cardigan? Therapists love cardigans," Louise offered. She tugged at a loose strand of hair and shrugged. "I feel like I'm supposed to say something else, but all I have is that it sounds like that sucked and you needed more help than you got."
"I came out the other side, so it's not all bad."
It wasn't like her to want to reach out and hug someone. More often than not, Louise kept everyone at a nice three foot distance. For a split second though, she considered breaking from that pattern and offering just a smidge of the comfort he missed out on for those years.
She didn't though. That was just the booze talking. Speaking of, she grabbed her bottle and held it to him.
"Fair enough. Cheers?"
"Cheers."
Humming into his beer, Logan motioned to the comfortable mess around them.
"That's part of the reason all of this makes sense to me. I had to sorta retrain my brain to be happy on its own. Showers help, breaking an arbitrary norm gets you out of a rut, and easy visuals and music is like meditation."
Louise clicked her tongue to the roof of her mouth in faux agitation. "You tricked me into doing mental health stuff."
"Yeah I did."
Letting that grudge go before it even fully formed, she allowed herself a follow-up question.
"Does Therapy Terri recommend alcohol?"
"Therapy Terri says that indulgences should be enjoyed if they're making you happy. I still smoke sometimes, but I know anything beyond that is not going to be happy."
"I like the sound of that," Louise said and shook her phone at him. "Can you send me her number?"
Logan laughed again but this time without the biting edge of irony. "Nah, it'd be a conflict of interest," he managed finally, a hand rubbing his gut and still smiling.
"Why??"
He put on a look, cagey suddenly, standing up straighter.
"I talk about you alllll the time. You drive me insane, Louise."
They stayed silent for a moment before he broke into a wide grin and both fell into more laughter.
"The feeling's mutual," she managed after her chuckles subsided.
They went back to relaxing, the same but also different.
Another episode passed before she looked back to his side of the couch.
Louise was a little drunk and full and happy, and she couldn't help but notice her companion was also a little drunk and full and happy.
He had this lazy and carefree attitude, sprawled out in her apartment. Even his hair fell more relaxed than it usually did.
Without thinking, Louise crawled to his side of the couch and touched the blond mess of hair. It was softer than she imagined, not spiky at all. Although maybe if she moved it like this and put her hand like this, then it would maybe poke-
A throat clearing reminded her that, in fact, the hair was connected to a person.
Funny, she thought when her threaded fingers stilled. It felt like this was a scene from one of the horse girl movies. Both moved slower, unsure of the next one's actions, except she didn't know which of them was the wild animal and which was supposed to be taming the other.
Then again, they were both probably some part feral cat.
She patted his hair back down but didn't leave his side. She also refused to check his face, peering instead at the screen where some bird was flapping around for a mate.
Dumbass bird.
"I's not even a good dance," she slurred at the screen.
"What do youuu know is a good dance?"
"I know a good dance."
"Suuure."
Rather than follow up, she pointed her chin at the screen. "What would be your species thing? Like a dance or elaborate home decor?"
"For attracting a bird?" She nodded, and he pursed his lips. "I'd do like a... like a really cool skateboard trick. Just one." Logan turned to face her, cheek sliding against the bare skin of her forearm, her hands still in his hair. He asked softly, "What would you do?"
"Nothing. If I wanted someone, all I'd have to do is hit em with the bedroom eyes and it's over."
"I bet you don't even know how to do that."
"I can so. I learned from the best," she snorted, remembering Tina's puberty lessons she unwillingly absorbed. "First, you got to get in close."
Louise brought her hands down, trailing along his neck and resting on his shoulders. She readjusted, leaning into him.
"Then, wink a little, flirt a little," she squeezed his shoulder, "and then you hit them with the eyes, so they know your intent."
Heat, from the alcohol or from his gaze, enveloped her as they both stopped, perched on top of a cliff of potential and seeing who would take the plunge first. He inhaled a deep, shuddering breath, and she felt his heartbeat under her palms. Both took turns as their gaze flipped from their eyes to their lips, waiting.
"And then?" Logan asked, husky.
Through half-lidded eyes, she tried to guess the outcome. If she leaned down, if he pulled up, they would be- this would be something different, but it was just a birthday party.
She pushed him back suddenly, and he had to grab at the fabric of the couch to steady himself, probably just as woozy as her.
"And... that's how you flirt."
"Oh." He blinked. "I'm learning so much."
"You're welcome. First lesson is free."
Head clearing the further away she moved, Louise situated herself on the couch and finally opened up a water bottle she hadn't noticed him grab. He did the same, fidgeting with his favorite lamp in the quiet. Neither spoke on what almost happened, content to let it be left behind.
This was just a birthday party.
Or maybe a pity party, she realized as the earlier events came crashing back into her focus. He felt sorry for her.
"I'm- ... you didn't have to do all this," she said finally, guilt welling up in an uncomfortable and unfamiliar way.
"Do what?"
"This." Louise waved her hand around them. "You know, going to all this trouble to make me feel better about something stupid."
"It's not stupid."
"It is though."
"It is not," he argued defensively, chest puffing up. "I went through the same thing. I got so bad I was looking at my own baby pictures like- like the people do, all 'aww what happened.' I was a baby and now I'm not, that's what happened."
"Ugh, babies." She shuddered. "I was talking about them earlier with Tina."
Logan tilted his head. "You don't like babies?"
"I don't like them when people are," she drawled out the word, "tryyying. Or when it's a fresh baby. Like, who's trying to drink a barrel-aged whiskey that's only been in there for a week?"
With a snort, he rolled his wrist flippantly. "I had no idea you were a baby vampire. Makes me think you shouldn't be watching the kids."
"I like kids from the Belcher line. Every other baby is ugly as hell and should stay far away from me."
She punctuated the thought with a firm nod.
"Not me," he said. "I was a cute baby."
"Everybody thinks they're a cute baby."
"Yeah, but I have proof."
Wiggling to get into his back pocket, Logan pulled out his phone. He shuffled on the couch closer to her. That floral and light ginger smell drifted up stronger now, both from his clothes and the ones she wore. Her eyes fluttered, intoxicated in more ways than one. He was talking, but she couldn't make the words out. Instead, she watched him show off his own baby pictures, like some kind of egomaniac, and nodded along absentmindedly.
She wouldn't say it out loud, but he wasn't an... ugly-ugly baby, which was kind of high praise from her.
One detail struck her as odd as he swiped through the small collection. In every photo he scrolled past, he was dressed in light-colored knit caps with bows on them.
Louise squinted at the phone then up at Logan. "Diiid... your mom want a girl?"
"Yep," he said with a pop. "The doctor pointed out my penis on the ultrasound, and she's been mad at me ever since." Logan didn't look over. "If you're making that dumbass face people make when I tell them about the stuff she's done, I'm gonna be mad."
But Louise kept her face neutral. After what they talked about earlier? She snickered internally while thinking about reaching for one last "piece of cake" bite.
He glanced over and, finding nothing worth being upset over, let out a relieved breath.
"That's what I like about you, Four Ears. You're a stone cold bitch."
"Absolutely no one has ever accused me of being stone cold before."
"You're right. You're more like... a raging bitch, but this feelings stuff you can handle."
"A little secret?" Louise rolled her eyes. "Most of the time I just don't know how, or don't care enough, to react if the instinct isn't to get worked up into a frenzy."
"Mmm, so the little tantrum you were having in the courtyard? That's a frenzy."
"Exactly. It's easier than doing this." Her hand came out to wave around them vaguely and without caution, but Logan dodged and moved back to his side of the couch for his own safety. She did not miss his warmth or his smell. And if she did, she could lean down to her own shirt and pretend like she was sneezing, not sniffing. Never sniffing. "Yeah, much easier than doing this."
"And what are we doing?"
"Talking about things like adults." She made a face and grunted in disgust. "Boring, withered, old adults."
"If you don't stop with the moping about good shit." Holding his chin, he thought to himself then shrugged. "Being thirty is great. You can get drunk and watch Planet Earth in the middle of the day. You can order a bunch of fast food. If you don't like where you're at? You can just leave."
With his story about college still fresh in her mind, the puzzle pieces snapped together.
"... I think I get why you're hung up on the freedom that comes with age now."
Both let that hang in the air between them.
Louise sighed. "And I guuuesss I like that too. It's just a shock. Okay there's not a right way to do things, but what if, you know, what if I'm doing things wrong? Like eating all this fast food. Now that I'm a granny, it's going to give me massive heartburn."
"Ah." He rifled through his pharmacy bag on the ground and pulled out a gigantic bottle of antacid tablets. "Gotcha covered. For the mistakes, there's probably a medicine and people that care about you to help." Logan blinked. "Not me though. I mean other people. I just happened to be around."
"Like a rash you can't get rid of," she said, taking preemptive heartburn relief from him. "You really put a lot of thought into this, huh."
"I told you, I'm the king of a relaxed environment." After snapping the bottle shut, he looked at her expectantly. "So...?"
Chewing on the chalky fruit-flavored antacid, Louise cocked her head. "So what?"
"Did I do it? Did I get you to chill?"
"Is this going to be one of those things you hold over me for the rest of our lives?"
"Bob willing."
Rolling her eyes at his pun, she shrugged. Even in that slight admission, she saw him light up, the heavier atmosphere from earlier completely dissipating as he waited for praise.
"Yeah, actually. You helped a lot." She swallowed her antacid and pride, one going down easier than the other. "Thanks, Bush."
"Anytime, Belcher."
"You... want to keep watching Planet Earth?"
"Sure, but new drinking game. Anytime an animal you were rooting for either gets eaten or doesn't eat, you drink."
"Did you prepare for the massive hangover too?"
"You know it," he said, patting the plastic Bet the Pharm bag again.
-
Logan, enthralled with the documentary on the screen, failed to realize Louise fell asleep around the segment on mammalian migration patterns. When he finally looked over at her to ask what her definition of a fish was, he found her snoring.
Good for her. On Sunday, he would demand repayment in the form of her dad's brussels sprouts, to be delivered to him at the park. He harbored no guilt at planning to trick her into eating vegetables and going for a walk-that stuff helped too. He felt especially shameless since today focused on indulgence.
Not... every indulgence, but most of them.
He let his mind wander from there until the vision of her sleeping in his clothes became a little too comfortable in his mind. Taking out his phone to distract himself, he found a text from Nadia waiting.
"Did you cheer up your girlfriend?"
Rather than rehash their earlier argument, Logan glanced at the sleeping Louise and messaged back a simple, "Yeah."
Her apartment darker now with the sun setting, he decided to call it. He cleaned up for a bit, trashing the empties and putting the leftovers in her fridge, not bothering to split it between them. Bugging her later if he wanted to clog his arteries suited him just fine.
A knock at the door interrupted the last of the tidying.
With another glance at the dead to the world Louise, Logan glided to the door with soft footsteps.
Tina was waiting for him in the peephole.
The landlord he could ignore, but Logan would open the door for Tina any day. Mostly because, if Louise found out he had turned either of her siblings away, he bet that she'd turn him into a rug of some kind.
When the door swung open, Tina's eyes widened, looking back at his apartment then to him.
"Oh. Uhh, hey... Logan?" She managed between a squirming Ava in her arms and the confusion. "Is Louise around?"
"Yeah, but she's asleep. Don't really want to wake her. It took a lot to finally get her to relax."
Tina's mouth fell open, and, scandalized, she covered Ava's ears by squishing her head between one free hand and a boob.
"What are you... oh!" Logan held his hands up and shook the idea away. "Not like that. Like... food coma relaxed. Chill out." And he snorted at his own joke that Tina wouldn't get.
"Okay... if you say so." She let Ava go, hiking her up higher on her hip then humming. "No idea when she'll be up?"
"Not really. And if this is another ploy to drop off your kids, let me stop you right there. I'm not babysitting again."
"That's a shame. Ava loves Lolo."
"Lolo!"
Logan grimaced at the nickname that he was absolutely sure Louise had convinced the babies to call him. How she trained them, he'll never know.
Rolling his eyes, he smiled down at the kid who was now bouncing in Tina's arms after finally recognizing who was at the door.
"Hey Ava Babe-a."
She giggled at the rhyme.
"You know how one of the things babies can say is gaga?" Logan asked her, no response coming. "Can you try that? Lo-gaga."
"Lolo."
"Lo-gaga."
"Lolo!"
"Compromise. You can keep calling me Lolo if you call Aunt Louise Lulu. Say it with me, Aunt Lu-Lu."
"Ah Loos!"
Taking in a deep breath, Logan let out a strangled sigh on the release, forfeiting the right to his own nickname and opting to play with Ava.
Tina smiled.
"It's not tricky babysitting this time, I promise. I just brought Louise's favorite by to remind her the joys of childhood."
"Louise doesn't have a favorite," he said while wiggling his fingers in front of Ava, letting her catch them intermittently. "This one and her click, but that doesn't mean she loves Griffin any less."
"I see."
Logan could never read Tina, hidden too well behind the frames of her glasses and her damn fine poker face. In this moment, he wished he could have guessed at what passed through her mind in that one, short sentence.
"Well, can we come in?"
Wondering why she would ask him that, it finally clicked that it probably looked weird that he was hanging out in Louise's apartment while she was asleep.
"We can trade off," he said, opening the door wider for the two to enter. "When she wakes up, remind her to give me back my pajamas. I don't want these getting lost like my shirt."
"Your... shirt?"
At her confusion, Logan realized Tina must have forgotten about the shirt Ava had thrown up on. Not wanting to risk Louise chastising him again for asking too much of a mother, he shrugged and let the whole issue go. It probably got swallowed by the dryer like every fifth sock.
"Don't worry about it. But that's my favorite pair of sweatpants, and I want them back. Oh," he dug into his pocket and grabbed the extra key had been using. "And she would probably want you to have this."
"What-"
Logan left in a hurry to not further incriminate himself