“I was being facetious,” Logan said.
“I figured. Is Graham coming to the funeral?”
“He’s in Europe still,” Logan said. “So no. And he didn’t know Dad.”
“I’d like to meet your son one day,” Junior said quietly.
“He might like that,” Logan said. “But he’s an adult now. It’s up to him.”
They’d waited a little long for this reconciliation, and the kids had all gone about growing up and bonding with the people who would matter to them. Graham had lost his grandmother, and he’d been broken up at her death, the same way Taylor was over Harry’s. There was going to be no making up for lost time with this next generation. They’d be too busy looking forward, as young people did. This particular tangle of mistakes and emotion was his generation’s to bear.
“Your brother and sister might not like me talking at the funeral,” Logan said.
“Leave them to me,” Junior said. “And they’ll be fine. Trust me.”
What could Logan say about the father he’d spent a lifetime striving to either connect with or forget?
Harry had never been father enough, and they would never reconcile now. At least Logan had been able to see him one last time. Funny how every other relationship could mean so much, but still not touch that space.
“What was it like growing up with a dad who loved you like that?” Logan asked at last.
Junior’s gaze turned thoughtful, then he shrugged. “It was...a good way to grow up.”
Logan nodded. “My son has that. I always made sure he knew how proud I was of him and how much I loved him. I hope he appreciates it.”
“My kids have it, too,” Junior replied. “And for what it’s worth, your son won’t appreciate it. Kids never appreciate what they have. It’s perfectly healthy and normal for them to take it all for granted. It’s the natural reaction of an untraumatized child.”
“Professionally speaking?” Logan asked.
“Yeah.” Junior met his gaze and shrugged. “Personally speaking, too. My kids take everything I provide for granted.”
Logan’s phone blipped, and he pulled it out of his pocket to see a text. It was from Melanie. Tilly took off with Simon.
He knew that she was feeling a whole lot more than her words conveyed. So Tilly had done it—gone back to the loser boyfriend. Logan couldn’t help but be disappointed. He liked Tilly’s spunk, and it was wasted on some kid who wouldn’t treat her right. And at the moment, Logan couldn’t help but blame Adam. He was the one who’d laid the foundation for his daughter to accept that kind of treatment. He’d treated Melanie badly for all those years. And Tilly was the one to pay for it.
Junior took his phone out at the same time and looked at his.
“I’d better get going,” Junior said. “I told Taylor we’d go through some old pictures of Dad together.”
“Yeah, you bet,” Logan said. “Graham and I did something similar when my mom died. It seemed to help.”
He met his brother’s gaze, and for the first time in his life, he no longer saw a rival. They were both trying their best to be good fathers, in spite of it all. Just two men trying to do better by their own kids.
“Well, I’ll see you at the funeral, then,” Junior said. “And you have my number.”
“Yeah.” Logan stood up and so did Junior. Logan put out a hand to shake and Junior leaned in at the same time. They both laughed awkwardly, then Logan leaned in and they patted each other’s backs in a brief hug.
As his brother left, Logan picked up his phone again and typed a reply to Melanie.
I could come over, if you want.
Her reply was almost instant. Please.
Logan couldn’t fix any of this—not his relationship with his late father, not his history with his brother and not Melanie’s issues with her rebellious stepdaughter. But he could be there for her.
Just being there with someone was a greater privilege than he’d appreciated in times past. Being asked to just be with someone in his or her tough times—it meant something.
And even though he’d only seen Melanie that morning, he missed her.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
LOGAN HAD A lot to think about as he drove down the familiar roads that led to the lakeshore. The wooden box was on the passenger seat next to him. He wasn’t sure why he’d brought it with him, but he didn’t want to open it alone. Sometimes hard emotions could be softened in the company of someone a man trusted.
And that was Melanie. He needed someone with him who wouldn’t have a personal stake in the contents. He knew that whatever was inside this box had never been meant for his eyes—it had been meant for Harry’s. And it might reveal more about Elise’s relationship with Harry than he cared to know. He’d made this mistake with his wife’s diaries.
But he’d still open it.
As Logan drove, his mind went back to his visit with his brother. He hadn’t expected to bond with Junior, and yet his brother wasn’t quite the spoiled brat he used to be. Logan hadn’t realized that his father’s marriage had been that fragile—they’d kept up appearances. Or maybe, he’d just been too young to know what cracks looked like from the outside.
And now he had an obligation to speak at his father’s funeral, and the realization sunk into his stomach like a rock. He should have said no, but he’d been included as part of the family at long last, and he hadn’t been able to refuse it.
At the age of forty-two, he should have been wiser. Besides, what could he say about the father who’d sidelined him from the start? His feelings were too loaded—too full of sharp edges and resentment to make for a comforting speech. He should just leave the speechifying to Junior and his siblings. They’d give the version of things that made people feel happy and cozy—the loving dad, the adoring husband, the revered
