Page 47 of The Wanderer

Stunned by the revelation, Logan racked his memory. He’d once tried to move his mum’s staggering stacks of magazines tucked into every corner of the living room and she’d gone berserk. He hadn’t thought much of it at the time because those magazines brought her comfort when his dad wasn’t around. She’d sit for hours with them spread across her lap, flicking through pages at random. He’d found it quirky but not testament to a deeper-seated problem

As for the countless cakes of soaps in the bathroom cabinet, the many tubes of untouched lipsticks, and the teetering pile of cookbooks in the kitchen, he’d put it down to his mum being a hoarder clinging to memories of the past.

“She wouldn't acknowledge her problem let alone see a doctor, so to stop from fighting a losing battle I distanced myself. Physically. I thought by removing myself from our sham marriage she'd be happier and in turn your life would be easier.”

Sombreness downturned Stephen’s mouth. “No kid should grow up in a tension-filled household. I thought I'd done the right thing when I visited and saw how happy she was and how rapt you were to see me." He tapped his temple. "I had it all figured out up here. Visit when I could, keep everyone happy."

Stunned, Logan stared at his father in disbelief. "Is that what you really believed?"

"It's what I saw. Even though I didn't love your mum, I saw she loved you as much as I did, so when we played happy families for however long my visits lasted, I thought it was the right thing to do."

He clasped his hands together so tight his knuckles stood out. "If I had my way, you would've lived with me. But a nomadic life is no good for a kid and I'd seen evidence of how obsessive your mum could be when I wanted to break up with her, I didn't want to risk setting her off again. If I’d taken you, she would’ve become obsessed with getting you back and who knows what that kind of instability could result in or what she would’ve done to have you. I didn’t want you seeing that side of your mum so I stepped back."

Logan needed time to process the revelations that kept on coming, overwhelming and stifling. "So why did you stop visiting as I grew older? Why did you stay away if you loved me so much?"

Stephen sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. His spine bowed, a man defeated, before he slowly straightened his shoulders. "Because you were a smart kid and you started eyeing me with suspicion and anger rather than excitement and anticipation."

"You mean you couldn't buy me off anymore with toys and books?"

"What I mean is, you were starting to ask me the hard questions and I couldn't disparage your mother, not when she was doing a good job of raising you." His jaw clenched and he looked away. "So I made you hate me by staying away deliberately."

"What the—"

"It almost killed me. In here." Stephen thumped his chest over his heart. "I loved you, Son, but I made a choice. I wanted you to have a stable home life, not being dragged from one town to the next, living in seedy motels and eating greasy fast food. I wanted you to be happy, your mum too. But there wasn't a single day I didn't wish I had you with me."

Sadness filled Logan, expanding until he felt like he'd explode with it. His eyes burned and his throat tightened, but he managed to ask the one question that had plagued him his entire life.

"Then why didn't you stay?"

"Because I didn't want you growing up resenting me, hating me, and that’s what would’ve happened if I’d stuck around, trapped in a marriage I never wanted, dying on the inside while trying to fake happiness on the outside. You were that observant you would’ve seen straight through me and I wanted you to be happy with your mum, even if it meant you and I could never have a real relationship…" Stephen ended on a sob and to Logan's horror, he felt like bawling too.

He didn't have it in his heart to tell his father that he’d ended up hating him regardless. Because he didn't. Not really. He understood his father's warped motivation, even if he didn't like it.

"Why didn't you tell me this years ago?"

Stephen dashed a hand across his damp eyes. "I tried to reach out many times, Son, but you didn't want a bar of me. I hoped that would change in time. Then the cancer hit and I knew I had to do something to repair the gap between us."

A jumble of emotions whirled through Logan and he couldn't process it all. He needed time. So he settled for, "I'm not sure if I can forgive you. But I'm glad you told me everything."

Stephen nodded, stood, and held out his hand. "All I'm asking for is a chance, Son."

Logan stared at his father's outstretched hand for a long time, before finally standing and taking it.

His father's grip was strong, firm, his hand as icy as his. Logan was glad his dad didn't try to embrace him.

For now, the handshake was a start.

Chapter Twenty-Four

It had been a whirlwind week for Hope. She'd recorded her first five songs that she'd written months ago in preparation for this opportunity when she had her studio up and running. And another song she'd intended on keeping private but couldn't resist recording: Yearning.

When three of her students had given feedback, insisting it was her best work, she'd released it online last night to a surprisingly high number of downloads. She knew, because she'd been compulsively checking ever since.

A crazy, bad-for-her compulsion, similar to cherry-choc-fudge sundaes, but she couldn't resist. Because every time she heard herself singing the lyrics, she pictured Logan. Strutting into the inner city café the first time they met. Wiping tomato ketchup off her chin at the football. Screwing her up against the alley wall behind the pub. Donning a tool belt for an all too short time when one of his workers had called in sick with gastro.

So many moments with a man she needed to forget but couldn't.

It was slowly but surely driving her crazy.

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