“I’ll work on her,” Dean mutters as his wife walks away.
“You can try,” she says over her shoulder.
Tamara recruits us to move the food to the small dining room.
“I hoped we could eat outside,” Tamara says, “but we’re supposed to have some storms this evening.” Thunder booms almost as soon as the words come out of her mouth, and she lifts a hand as if to say See? then walks to the back door, probably to call Jazzy in. She needn’t have bothered, Jazzy and Bean scurry through the door before she can say a word.
Jazzy clutches her mom’s leg, and Bean comes to me, ears down and tail between her legs.
“That was scary, Mommy,” Jazzy says. “The sky got really dark and the clouds were mad.”
Tamara hugs her. “You’re safe now. Time for dinner; go wash up.”
Tam’s food, even the simple stuff, is always delicious, but I don’t enjoy eating it as much as I usually do. Dean had asked where Stevie was tonight and thinking about it gave me a cramp.
Eating with Jude. Smiling at Jude. Kissing Jude? I can’t think about if she’s doing any more than that with Jude. Considering her kissing him is already more than I can stand.
I guess I don’t hide my mood very well, because Tamara touches me on the shoulder as I wash the dishes after the meal and asks, “You okay, Logan? You seem a little . . . down.”
Dean’s bathing Jazzy and putting her to bed, and Stevie’s sister dries the dishes as I wash them. It’s as safe a time as any to unload on her. With a few pauses to clear my throat and paw around inside myself to get at my real feelings, I tell her what’s been happening the last couple of months.
Tamara listens quietly, the towel in her hand moving methodically around dishes as I pass them to her. “Okay, so Stevie’s working through her thirtieth birthday bucket list, and she’s seeing a new guy. But . . . why does that bother you?”
Enter extra pauses, more pawing, and a few awkward stammers. “Because, you know, I always thought that by the time we were this age, we’d be, well . . . together.”
“So, you’re saying you want that to happen now?”
I nod and take a deep breath. Time for the truth to come out. “I love Stevie, Tam. I think I’ve always known that, but I was willing to wait and let things develop. Except they aren’t developing. She either doesn’t feel the same way about me or she’s fighting it. And I don’t know what to do about it.”
Tamara squeals and hugs me so hard I almost drop a soapy glass into the sink. “Oh, I was hoping you’d say that. Dean and I have been betting on this for years with Carol and my dad.”
I must look shocked, because she pats me and laughs. “I’m sorry, I know nothing’s settled yet. But everyone’s going to be so excited if this actually happens.” She grins again, but then settles her expression, and her voice is gentle when she asks, “Have you tried telling Stevie how you feel?”
“No,” I groan. “Things have been so weird between us. Like, we get along well, but this is the elephant in the room for me. I can’t pretend I don’t have these feelings for her anymore. I don’t know if she feels the change, but I think she might because she’s been avoiding me and spending every spare minute with Jude the last few weeks.” I can’t help biting off his name.
Tamara lays out the last few things to dry on the towel-covered counter, and we move to the living room. Outside, the rain is coming down hard and lightning fractures the dark sky every few minutes. Bean, who sat between my feet while I washed up, now shadows my every step. She’s terrified of thunderstorms. Tamara and I settle onto the couch, and I pet Bean’s head after she curls up against my leg.
“So,” I say, “has Stevie ever mentioned how she feels about me?”
Tamara shakes her head. “I mean, we all know she loves you. But does she love you, love you?”
“That’s the question, right?” I run a hand through my hair. “I’m tired of being friends. I want more. But every time I try to show that, Stevie backs away. I’m afraid if I have a real, adult conversation with her about this, that she’ll freak out.”
Tamara tucks her legs under her and pulls a fleece blanket over them from the back of the couch. “I understand. But don’t you wonder if Stevie might be worried about the same things? I know she isn’t one to really express her feelings—”
I grunt. Understatement.
“So maybe she’s running away to avoid facing the same things you’re worried will happen. Logan, I’ve known you almost as long as I’ve known Stevie. You are right for her, and I think she’s right for you. But I don’t know many couples who get together without actually talking about it first. I mean, you could sweep her into your arms and kiss her passionately and admit your fiery love for her, but with Stevie?” She shakes her head and rolls her eyes. “You’re liable to find her halfway to Canada.”
“I agree. So, what do I do?”
Dean comes in then and grabs another beer from the fridge. “Do about what?”
Tamara sighs as he sits in a lumpy overstuffed chair, looking expectant. “Okay, quick recap. Logan loves Stevie and wants her to know it, and quickly. But she’s dating some other guy right now and seems to want Logan to hang out with another girl. Got it?”
The beer floats inches from Dean’s mouth. “Damn. When did all this happen?”
She waves impatiently at him. “While you were putting the baby to bed.”
“And over the last thirty years,” I add.
“Right,” Dean says. “Glad I got a six-pack. This is clearly a two-beer conversation.”
Over the course of the next hour, we come up with and discard about ten ideas for how to approach the problem of Stevie.
“The girl is too stubborn for her own good,” her sister laments.
“Or I’m completely unappealing,” I say.
Tamara pats my hand and jokes, “You’re not that unappealing, Logan.”
“You know what you need?” Dean’s finishing beer two and tapping his fingers against the arm of the chair. “Something that gets her out of her comfort zone. Catches her off guard. Shocks her. Maybe if she’s a little off balance, not so defensive, she’ll be able to hear what you’re saying.”
“Like what?” Tamara asks.
An idea pops into my head. “I’ve got it. Number two on her bucket list.”
Dean leans forward. “What’s number two?”
“Skydiving.”
This could work. I can set it up, go with her, and when she’s good and petrified that she might die, tell her I love her.
Tamara claps excitedly. “Yes! And . . . it’s the perfect Adventure Thursday.”
Chapter Nineteen
Stevie
Thursday morning, I pack a backpack and Bean and I head outside to wait for Mom to pick me up. Logan was up and out early this morning, probably for a coffee meeting or something. I hid in my room until he was gone, even though he took longer than usual to actually get out the door.
After winning the novice division at the Colorado Canine Challenge, I’d been riding high. I couldn’t believe Bean did so well. And we weren’t the only ones who’d had a good day.