- Home
- PJ Trebelhorn
Trusting Tomorrow Page 10
Trusting Tomorrow Read online
Page 10
Her grandfather agreed but didn’t look happy about it. The three of them got him into the bed before they returned to the kitchen where her grandmother fixed Logan a cup of coffee.
“Thank you, Logan,” Brooke said.
“No problem. I’m just glad I could help.”
“Does this happen often?” Brooke asked. When her grandmother wouldn’t look at her, she turned her attention back to Logan. She knew her exasperation was evident, but she tried to sound unaffected by the events of the morning. “It hasn’t happened since I moved in here.”
“Actually, I think it occurred more often before you arrived,” Logan said with an agreeing grunt and nod from her grandmother. “The first time it happened, my dad was out of town at a seminar, and Peggy called me at the funeral home to ask for my help. When I got here, Henry thought I was my father, and I was able to talk him through the worst of it. After that, it didn’t matter if it was me or my dad because when he’s in this state, he thinks we’re the same person.”
“Peggy!” her grandfather called from down the hallway. Her grandmother placed a hand on each of their shoulders before taking a deep breath and going to see what he wanted.
“I’m not sure how she deals with it,” Brooke said quietly.
“It’s not easy, I’m sure.” Logan covered Brooke’s hand with her own on top of the table, and Brooke didn’t move away. “But the good news? He’s himself again now.”
“How do you know?”
“He called for her. When he’s having an episode, he doesn’t know who she is and he doesn’t always remember he’s married.”
Brooke looked at their hands and closed her eyes as she turned hers to entwine their fingers together. She squeezed Logan’s hand before looking at her again.
“Thank you for being here. Thank you for taking care of them. Thank you seems so inadequate but it’s all I have. Thank you for caring about them.”
“Hey, they’re family. It’s what families do, right?”
Was it? Brooke knew without a doubt it wasn’t what her family did. Her father hadn’t seen his parents in over forty years. Brooke couldn’t imagine him doing anything to help them.
“I’m sorry about last night, Logan.”
“Don’t be. If I wasn’t so inept at being with a woman I find attractive, the evening may have ended differently.”
“Logan,” he said from behind them.
Brooke and Logan both turned in their seats to face him. Her grandmother had parked his wheelchair in the doorway separating the kitchen and dining room, and she was standing behind him, her hand on his shoulder and his hand covering it.
“Hey, Henry. Good morning.” Logan gave him what Brooke could tell was a genuine smile full of affection. It made the lines at the corners of her eyes crinkle, and Brooke had the fleeting thought Logan was the sexiest woman she’d ever met.
“I want to apologize. Peggy filled in the missing pieces, but you know I remember some of the things I say and do. I’m sorry you had to pretend to be your father again.”
“I didn’t pretend anything, Henry.” Logan got to her feet and went to kneel next to his chair. “If you see my father when you look at me, I consider it a compliment.”
Brooke’s breath caught in her throat. Logan was an incredibly sweet and caring woman, and Brooke thought it was a shame she didn’t share that part of herself with anyone other than family and close friends. Brooke felt honored to be seeing it now. She fought the urge to take Logan in her arms and hold her tightly. When Logan turned her head to meet her eyes, Brooke wondered why she was fighting the attraction she was certain both of them felt.
Chapter Fourteen
Logan sat in her office looking over the numbers for the year. They were doing pretty well for a small town funeral home. Ernie, who ran his business out of Riverside where there was a much higher population of people, could only dream of doing as much business as she was. Jack had started his apprenticeship with Ernie the Thursday after Thanksgiving, and Logan wished she could have taken Jack on as an apprentice, but she just didn’t have the time to do it since Billy still had six months left in his.
“Hey, Boss,” Billy said after a quick knock on the open door. “Do you have a minute?”
“Sure thing. Come on in and have a seat.” Logan sat back and waited for him to get comfortable. It was amazing how much Billy looked like his father. They had the same green eyes and messy brown hair. He had Missy’s nose, which was a good thing since Ray’s always seemed to her to be way too large for his face. “What’s on your mind, Billy?”
“I was just wondering if maybe I could use the apartment upstairs this weekend.”
He was looking everywhere in the room but at her, and she leaned forward. It wasn’t like Billy to be nervous about anything. Granted, this was a strange request, but they were close enough to be family. He’d never been apprehensive about asking for something before.
“I live up there, Bill.”
“I know, but you’ve been staying at the house so much lately, and I would really appreciate it if you could say yes.”
“What do you need it for?”
He hung his head and shook it, apparently not intending to answer her question.
“You want some alone time with a girl, is that it? I know living with your folks probably cramps your style, right? Especially when you’re thirty years old. I can’t imagine. I’ll tell you what—you can use it for the weekend, but only the guest bedroom. And when I come back Monday morning, the sheets better be clean.”
He chuckled nervously before looking up and finally meeting her eyes. “It’s not a girl.”
Logan glanced away to hide the knowing grin. She thought briefly about not saying anything and simply letting him tell her on his own, but she could see how difficult it was for him. Ray and Missy were great people, but they were devout Catholics. They were fine with her being gay and always had been, but who knew how they might react if they found out something like that about their own son?
“It’s a guy?” she asked carefully. He didn’t answer right away, so she went on. “Billy, you know I don’t have a problem with it, right? I wish you’d have told me sooner though. My dad might have been able to help you come out to your parents. How long have you known this guy you want to bring here for the weekend?”
“A couple months. We met at the grocery store one night when my mom asked me to pick up a few things.”
“Why can’t you go to his place?”
“He lives with his sister.”
“Where have you gone with him before?”
“We haven’t gone anywhere. We haven’t had sex yet.”
Logan couldn’t hide her surprise. Two months and they hadn’t had sex yet? And people thought gays and lesbians were all about the quick hookups. She wasn’t sure she really wanted to know the answer to her next question because it probably fell into the category of too much information, but her curiosity was too strong.
“You’ve had sex before though, right? With a guy?”
“No.” He squirmed in his seat. He looked like he wanted to make his escape, but he finally closed his eyes and seemed to relax a little bit. “I’ve never spent the night with a guy before.”
“Have you been with a girl, or are you an honest to God virgin?” Logan asked. Billy was the same age as Jack, and they’d played football together in high school. Billy played his college ball in Ohio and was on track to be drafted in the first round before he blew out a knee. After taking a couple of years to rehab his knee, he’d been forced to make a new career choice. He’d gone through the police academy at his father’s insistence, but he knew law enforcement wasn’t for him. He’d finally settled on mortuary science. Billy and Jack had been best friends growing up. If Jack knew Billy was gay and never said anything to her, she’d kill him.
“I did once, on prom night. God, it was the most awful experience of my life, Logan.”
“I can imagine.” She’d never even tried to conform to the soc
ietal norms. She’d known from a young age she liked girls and not boys, and never had the desire to experiment. “If you guys stay here for the weekend, what are you going to tell your parents?”
“I’m visiting a friend in Buffalo.”
“Clean sheets,” she said again.
“I promise,” he said, his mood visibly lifting. “You’ll never even know we were there.”
“I’d better not, or you’ll never get to use my apartment again.”
“Thanks, Logan,” he said before running out the door. A second later he was back. “You won’t tell my parents, will you?”
“I would never out someone without their permission. Don’t worry about it, Billy. Your secret’s safe with me.” She smiled as he left again, and she could hear his running footsteps fading down the hallway. She looked at her watch. If she hurried, she could be in Buffalo before nine o’clock. It was a Thursday, so the bar crowds would be fairly decent. She grabbed her coat and shrugged it on before heading for the door, where she literally ran right into Brooke.
“Jesus, are you in a hurry or something?” Brooke asked when Logan steadied her with a hand to the small of her back.
“No, not really,” she lied. They had managed to avoid each other since the incident with Henry, never sharing anything more than a hello when they’d see each other. “What brings you here to the creepy old funeral home?”
“You invited me, remember? And you assured me it wasn’t creepy.”
“I seem to recall inviting you to my apartment, not the funeral home, per se.” Logan looked at her watch out of habit, and Brooke apparently noticed.
“You are in a hurry.” Brooke appeared disappointed.
“It’s nothing important, really. Come in and have a seat.”
Logan didn’t want to analyze why it suddenly wasn’t important to get to Buffalo. Because if she took the time to consider it, she might have to admit to herself she liked Brooke a little too much. Not only that, but she was intensely attracted to her. The attraction was okay, but the intense part? Not so much. It wasn’t acceptable in the tidy little world Logan had created for herself. She focused on Brooke, who was sitting across the desk from her.
“You really bury people for a living?” Brooke asked, her expression one of distaste.
“Yes, I do. But I’m curious as to why you seem to find it so objectionable. You’re a nurse, aren’t you? I’m sure you’ve had to deal with a dead body or two in your line of work.”
“Yes, but trying to save people’s lives is different than preparing them for burial.”
“So you’re trying to say your profession is more noble than mine,” Logan said. She cut Brooke off when she tried to respond. “It isn’t the first time I’ve heard something similar from someone in the medical profession. As a matter of fact, it was those exact feelings that spurred me toward a career in medicine when I graduated from high school, but we both know how far I got there. My father taught me many things in life, and one of them was to handle each body as if it were a member of your own family, because the deceased deserve to be treated with respect. He told me if I couldn’t handle that, then I didn’t belong in this business. There are reasons funeral homes are usually family run. Not everyone is cut out to be a mortician. We do it because someone has to, and there aren’t many who want to.”
“So you don’t enjoy your job?”
Logan held Brooke’s eyes for a moment as she considered her answer. Brooke didn’t appear to be as uncomfortable as she had been when they first sat down together, and for some reason it pleased Logan.
“I didn’t think I would like it at first, but I’ve come to feel differently about it over the years. What I do is necessary. Do I enjoy it? No, I wouldn’t go that far, but I do get a deep sense of satisfaction when I can help a family through the first days—the most difficult days—after the loss of a loved one. Grief is a powerful emotion, Brooke, and most people need someone to listen even if they’re not aware that’s what they need.”
“So you’re basically a high-priced therapist.”
Logan took a deep breath and tried to calm herself. Brooke was trying to get on her nerves, and succeeding. But she’d never give Brooke the satisfaction of knowing it. Her amusement was apparent in the way her eyes flashed, and Logan was determined this interaction wouldn’t end in the way that was fast becoming typical for them.
“I guess you could look at it that way. I’m sure it’s probably how most people view the profession. But what we do is so much more. We take care of the obituaries, the flower arrangements, the funeral notices. There’s so much involved with funeral preparations most people don’t even consider. Because of me, and other people in my position, loved ones don’t have to do a thing. We even provide clothing for the deceased if it’s what people want.”
“You’re freaking me out a little bit,” Brooke said after a moment. Logan’s expression must have conveyed her confusion because Brooke waved her hand in the air toward Logan and shook her head. “You’ve gone all mortician on me. You’re using that soothing voice, and you’re using words like deceased, and loved ones. It’s kind of creepy. I want to talk to Logan, not Ms. Funeral Director.”
Logan smiled. She hadn’t even noticed slipping into professional mode, but it was a natural thing to do. They were talking about funerals, and something in her mind flipped a switch. She remembered being a little creeped out about it herself when she was younger and her father did the same thing. She laughed before standing and walking toward the door.
“All right, Ms. Funeral Director has left for the day,” she said. “How about I give you the nickel tour of the place?”
“I’m afraid I don’t have a nickel,” Brooke said.
“Then for you it’s free. Just don’t tell anyone. I usually charge ten bucks a head for a tour.” Logan smiled when she was rewarded with an all out laugh. She vowed to try to elicit the same response more often in the future. She held her arm out and was pleasantly surprised when Brooke threaded hers through it. A rush of heat flooded her system at the contact as she leaned her head closer to Brooke’s. “We’ll start with the embalming room.”
“You’d better be kidding.” Brooke yanked her arm away and took a step back toward the desk. Logan laughed and exited the room.
“Billy should be done with Mr. Granger by now, but I guess I should make sure before we barge right in there.” Logan glanced over her shoulder. “I think we’ll start our tour with the crematorium.”
*
The tour took almost forty-five minutes, and—much to Brooke’s relief—did not include a stop in the embalming room or the crematorium. She shivered just thinking about it. Simply looking at the selection of caskets and urns was enough to freak her out for one night.
“Why are you single, Logan?” Brooke asked, her mouth acting before her brain could fully engage. Logan stopped walking and looked at her with a funny little grin. “I mean, I know the reason you already gave me, but I can’t believe you’ve sworn off relationships. You’d make some woman a wonderful partner.”
“Some woman? I’m not interested in some woman.”
The look Logan gave her left the impression she was interested in Brooke, and it caused a flash of heat she felt to her core. It was amazing to her how Logan seemed to have the ability to make her feel as though she were the only woman in the world. Brooke wondered if she had the same effect on all the women she picked up.
“The tour of my workplace hasn’t answered that question for you?” Logan asked when the silence had gone on a little longer than was comfortable.
“Because of this?” Brooke looked around the chapel room. It was peaceful, but when she thought about where she was, a chill ran through her.
“No, because of this,” Logan said as she ran a finger down Brooke’s arm from her elbow to her wrist, indicating the goosebumps Brooke hadn’t noticed were there. The move caused even more shivers, and Logan gave her a wink. “I’m used to this kind of reaction, but luckily, most wo
men run away as soon as they learn what I do for a living. I don’t generally have to push anyone away.”
Brooke hugged herself and ran her hands up and down her arms. She knew it had to be her imagination, but she could still feel where Logan had touched her. This was heading into dangerous territory, and Brooke felt helpless to stop it. She was hopelessly attracted to Logan, and the woman was sexy as hell. She oozed charm when she wanted to, and Brooke was worried if she were exposed to much more of it she might simply dissolve into a puddle of lust at Logan’s feet.
“I’m sure you tell women what you do for a living in order to chase them away, am I right?” Brooke knew her response would piss Logan off, and she wasn’t disappointed. Logan stiffened and turned away from her. She regretted having said the words aloud and reached out to touch Logan’s arm. “I’m sorry. I wish we could spend more than an hour with each other and not have it end this way. I really hate the getting to know each other phase of a new friendship. It would be so much easier if we already knew all the things not to say to keep the other one from getting upset.”
“Is that what this is?” Logan asked when she turned to face Brooke again. “A new friendship?”
“I hope so. I never thought I’d find a lesbian in Oakville, much less one I could be friends with, but I’m glad I have. Even if we just constantly piss one another off.”
“Me too, but there’s this pesky little thing about me being attracted to you. That doesn’t bother you?”
“No, because we’ve already established neither one of us wants a relationship. And since I don’t do casual, there’s no chance of anything happening between us.”
“What if I told you I’d be willing to risk it with you?” Logan asked, her voice low.
Brooke’s breath caught in her throat and she took a step back. Her first reaction was to laugh at the absurdity of the remark, but the look in Logan’s eyes told her she was being sincere. Logan was wearing her heart on her sleeve, so to speak, and Brooke had no idea what to do with the enormity of the situation. She shook her head and opened her mouth, but Logan spoke first.