Page 56 of Unmistakably Us

Michael was sitting, mouth agape, his own cup dangling on the verge of spilling until Logan asked for a refill. “Uh, no. I don’t think chicory is going to do it. We need something with a little more bite.”

Michael disappeared with their mugs and returned with tumblers and a bottle of Jack. He poured two generous shots, passed one over, and took up residence on the coffee table—uncomfortably close to Logan, in his bubble. Logan leaned back instinctively. “Sorry, is this to much for you, I mean me…here?” Logan’s tongue was forming the reply, yes, it’s too fucking close and raw, when he saw something in his little brother’s eyes.

Lucinda.

The look she used when she first married the asshole and was trying to reach out to Logan and feared his rejection that always inevitably came. One time, it didn’t, and that look transformed into something special that day. Here he was, being offered a do-over of sorts. “Nah, man. It’s cool.”

The relief on Michael’s face was immediate. They both downed their tumblers and refilled them with that fiery amber liquid.

Leaning back into his seat, Logan picked up the tale. “Anyway, she dried my tears, and I stood there and didn’t ring a single bottle. My crying resumed full-force. At this point, it wasn’t about the elephant, it was about the beating I knew I would take for being a pussy.”

“Fuck.” Michael breathed. “How old were you?”

“Six, I think, maybe seven.”

Michael’s eyes seemed to ponder that. Logan could see when realization dawned on Michael. His look was riddled with disbelief when he understood that Logan got a major beating for damn near anything.

Oh yeah, I’ve had plenty of those in my lifetime.For being a pussy, being born…breathing.

“Mom said I would get my elephant; she believed in me. She knew it wasn’t about the elephant either. Him putting that money down was a trap, an excuse. He seemed to feel better about what he did when he had an excuse. ‘If you don’t get it the first try, we’ll keep going until you do.’ she said as she pulled some money from her bra. ‘No matter what it takes, he’s yours, even if we have to split our bologna sandwiches next week. Okay? But it’s our secret that I’m using this money. Don’t tell your dad, pinkie promise?’”

“Wait, I’m a little lost. Why would he care how you won it? If it was a test of pussyhood or some bogus shit?” Michael didn’t understand the significance of bra money.

“Mom kept her money in separate stashes, some on herself and some around the house. That way when he came home drunk and found some, he’d think he got it all and stop looking for more. So, she always kept a little in in her bra for food.”

“Damn.” It was a barely audible sound over the refilling of their glasses.

It occurred to Logan that this memory sounded dark, not special, but it was…very special. “I’m sorry, it sounds like a horrible tale, and I guess it kind of is for the most part, but it will give you a glimpse of who your mother really was. I can stop if you want.”

“No.” Michael cleared his throat, tears threatening. “No, please continue, unless…it’s too much for you?”

Logan gave a quick shake of his head. “It took a lot for me to win it. My head barely cleared the counter. I couldn’t even see where my rings were landing, but Mom stood there cheering me on. It finally happened or the guy took pity on us, either way, I had the elephant and my dad had to eat a little crow.”

“Really? It mattered that much to him?”

“Nope, not one fucking bit. He just grumbled about it was still too much to pay for a stupid stuffed toy and that I was still a pussy. Believe it or not, with all that fucked up shit and the prospect of half rations, it was one of the best nights of my life.” Logan made eye contact with Michael who sat in stunned silence as a smile slowly crept over his face. “Pretty pathetic as far as best days go, huh?”

“Not at all.” Michael spoke giddily. “I bet that the half sandwiches for a week were the best too, because of why you had them?” Of course, Michael would pick up on that; he was a glass half-full kind of guy.

“Nope. I didn’t have halves; I had whole fried bologna sandwiches for the next week. Mom mysteriously wasn’t hungry.” Logan air quoted. “That’s who your mother was, Michael. She was a woman who loved a kid who wasn’t her own and went without lunches for a week so he could have the one prized possession in this world she had the power to give him.”

The moment was heavy and light at the same time. The memory was one of many that made Logan realize, Lucinda would never have simply abandoned him. She had every intention of coming back for him, but she had to protect her other son as well. In that moment, Logan knew, had she been given the time, she would have found a way, just like with the elephant.

Mumbling to himself, Logan didn’t care if he were heard, “Yep, the only thing she had to give besides her love was the pride of doing something myself and an elephant named Bologna.”

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