Page 57 of What Matters Most

“At least tell me your name.” Abby didn’t know where the request came from; it tumbled from her lips before she’d even formed the thought.

“Tate.” He tossed it over his shoulder as he stalked away.

“Bye, Tate,” she called as he opened his car door. When he glanced her way, she lifted her hand. “And thanks.”

A smile curved his mouth. “I like your socks,” he returned.

Pointedly she looked down at the mismatched pair. “I’m starting a new trend,” she said with a laugh.

Standing beside her bike, Abby waited until Tate had driven away.

—

Later that night, Logan picked her up and they had hamburgers, then went to a movie. Logan’s obligatory good-night kiss was…pleasant. That was the only way Abby could describe it. She had the impression that Logan kissed her because he always kissed her good night. To her dismay, she had to admit that there’d never been any driving urgency behind his kisses. They’d been dating almost a year and the mysterious Tate was capable of stirring more emotion with a three-minute conversation than Logan had all evening. Abby wasn’t even sure why they continued to date. He was an accountant whose office was in a building near hers. They had many of the same friends and did plenty of things together, but their relationship was in a rut. The time had come to add a little spice to her life, and Abby knew exactly where that spice would be coming from…

After Logan had left, Abby settled into the overstuffed chair that had once belonged to her grandfather and picked up a new thriller she’d bought that week.

Dano, her silver-eyed cat, crawled into her lap as Abby opened the book. Absently, she stroked the length of his spine. Her hand froze in mid-stroke as she discovered the hero’s name: Logan. Slightly unnerved, she dropped the book and jumped up from her chair to look for the remote. Turning on the TV, she told herself she shouldn’t feel guilty because she felt attracted to another man. The first thing she saw on the screen was a commercial for Logan Furniture’s once-a-year sofa sale. Abby stared at the flashing name and hit the off button. This was crazy! Logan wouldn’t care if she was interested in someone else. He might even be grateful. Their relationship was based on friendship and had progressed to romance, a romance that was more about routine than passion. If Abby was attracted to another man, Logan would be the first to step aside. He was like that—warm, unselfish, accommodating.

Her troubled thoughts on Saturday evening were only the beginning. Tate dominated every waking minute, which just went to prove how limited her social life really was. She liked Logan, but Abby longed for some excitement. He was so staid—yes, that was the word. Staid. Solid as a rock, and about as imaginative.

—

Logan came over to her apartment on Sunday afternoon, which was no surprise. He always came over on Sunday afternoons. They usually did something together, but never anything very exciting. More often than not, Abby went over to his house and made dinner. Sometimes they watched a movie. Or they played a game of backgammon, which he generally won. During the summer they’d ride their bikes; some of their most pleasant dates had been spent in Diamond Lake Park. Logan would lie on the grass and rest his head in her lap while she read whatever thriller or mystery she was currently devouring.

They’d been seeing each other so often that the last time they had dinner at her parents’ Abby’s father had suggested it was time they thought about getting married. Abby had been mortified. Logan had laughed and changed the subject. Later, her mother had tactfully reminded Abby that he might not be the world’s most exciting man, but he was her best prospect. However, Abby couldn’t see any reason to rush into marriage. At twenty-six, she had plenty of time.

“I thought we’d bike around the park,” Logan said.

The day was gloriously sunny, and although Abby wished Logan had proposed something more inventive, the idea was appealing. She enjoyed the feel of the breeze in her hair and the sense of exhilaration that came with rapid movement.

“Hi!” Abby and Logan were greeted by Patty Martin just inside the park’s boundaries. “How’s it going?”

“Fine,” Logan answered for them as they braked to a stop. “How about you?”

Patty had recently started to work in the same office building as Logan, which was how Abby had met her. Although Abby didn’t know her well, she’d learned that Patty was living with her sister. They’d talked briefly at lunch one day, and Abby had invited her to join an office-league softball team she and Logan had played in last summer.

“I’m fine, too,” Patty answered shyly, and looked away.

In some ways she reminded Abby of Mai-Ling, who hadn’t said more than a few words to her the first couple of weeks they’d worked together. Only as they came to know each other did Mai-Ling blossom. Abby herself had never been shy. The world was her friend, and she felt certain Patty would soon be comfortable with her, too.

“I can’t talk now. I saw you and just wanted to say hello. Have fun, you two,” Patty murmured and hurried away.

Confused, Abby watched her leave. The girl looked like a frightened mouse as she scurried across the grass. The description was more than apt. Patty’s drab brown hair was pulled back from her face and styled unattractively. She didn’t wear makeup and was so shy it was difficult to strike up a conversation.

After biking around the lake a couple of times, they stopped to get cold drinks. As they rested on a park bench, Logan slipped an affectionate arm around Abby’s shoulders. “Have I told you that you look lovely today?”

The compliment astonished Abby; there were times she was convinced Logan didn’t notice anything about her. “Thank you. I might add that you’re looking very good yourself,” she said with twinkling eyes, then added, “but I won’t. No need for us both to get conceited.”

Logan smiled absently as they walked their bikes out of the park. His expression was oddly distant; in some ways he hadn’t been himself lately, but she couldn’t put her finger on anything specific.

“Do you mind if we cut our afternoon short?” he asked unexpectedly.

He didn’t offer an explanation, which surprised Abby. They’d spent most Sunday afternoons together for the past year. More surprising—or maybe not, considering her recent boredom with Logan—was the fact that Abby realized she didn’t care. “No, that shouldn’t be any problem. I’ve got a ton of laundry to do anyway.”

—

Back at her apartment, Abby spent the rest of the afternoon doing her nails, feeling lazy, and ignoring her laundry. She talked to her mother on the phone and promised to stop by sometime that week. Abby had been on her own ever since college. Her job as receptionist at an orthopedic clinic had developed with time and specialized training into a position as an X-ray technician. The advancement had included a healthy pay increase—enough to start saving to buy a house. In the meantime, she relished her independence, enjoying her spacious ground-floor apartment, plus the satisfaction of her job and her volunteer work.

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