Graham got the suitcase inside the house and Logan picked the mail up from the pile on the floor and flicked on lights. It felt strange to be home—not quite good.
“Your uncle Junior wants to meet you,” Logan said.
“I’m not really interested,” Graham said. “I’m going to be pretty busy moving into my own place and all that.”
“Yeah, you are, but they’re your family,” Logan said.
“They’re yours, too.” Graham cast him a curious look.
“I’ve made mistakes,” Logan said, and Graham looked back, sobered. “I probably should have gone home to see my father sooner. I didn’t have as much time as I thought. I should have sat down with my dad and hashed out some sort of relationship with him, and I should have gotten to know my siblings. I messed up.”
“They weren’t really worth it—”
“They were family, Graham. And I hope that one day, if you and I have some sort of falling-out, that you’ll try. You won’t just give up on me like I did with my own father.”
“Is that what this is about?” Graham asked. “You and I have a relationship, Dad. It’s not the same thing. Your father pretty much cut you out of his family for the crime of being born to the wrong woman.”
“I know...” Logan rubbed his hand over his face. “And you’re right that it isn’t quite the same, but even if they didn’t include me in their family, maybe we can start by including them in ours.”
Graham headed through to the kitchen. Logan could hear him muttering about there being no food with both of them having been away for the last few weeks, and Logan pulled out his phone, checking for messages.
He knew whose text he was looking for. He was missing Melanie already.
There was none. He hadn’t really expected any. They’d said all there was to say earlier, but... He looked up to see Graham eyeing him skeptically.
“So what happened with that woman?” Graham asked. “The ex-girlfriend, or whatever.”
“We’re friends,” Logan said. Sort of. Maybe they’d be friends in the future, at least.
“That’s too bad,” Graham said. “I was hoping maybe you were dating.”
“You want me to start dating?” Logan asked, surprised.
“Yeah, it’s been a few years now, Dad. I mean, I want you to be happy. Mom would have wanted that, too—” Graham paused when he saw his father’s face. “What? Did she not want you to move on?”
“She did,” Logan said. “It’s not that.”
He’d been thinking about how to tell Graham ever since he’d read the diaries. He’d considered destroying them, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He’d been in a guilt-ridden limbo. And he hadn’t wanted big family secrets to come between them. This was his chance to do things differently with his own son. “We need to talk...”
“What’s going on?” Graham asked.
“The thing is, son, your mom...” Logan rubbed his hands over his face. “I loved her. I really did. You know that. And I’ve grieved for her really hard, but—”
“But?” Graham said.
“You know how I pulled out your mom’s diaries? Well, I started reading them a few weeks ago, and I found out that your mom wasn’t all that happy with me,” he said at last.
“What?” Graham shook his head. “I don’t believe that.”
“I want you to know that I did do my best, and there wasn’t anyone else in my heart. Just her. I adored your mom, but if you end up reading those diaries, you’ll see a different version of me...one I didn’t realize existed all those years.”
“Were you mean? Did you hit her?” Graham asked.
“No! No! My God, Graham. I know how all of this sounds, but it wasn’t anything like that. I think it was just a personality thing. Or all the baggage I came with. I mean, I have a really dysfunctional family. I could be hard to talk to, and to deal with sometimes, and...” He hated opening up about this. He wanted to be his son’s hero, not some loser who’d made Graham’s mother miserable. Still, it was better to address it now than later. “I guess I made mistakes, and I don’t even know exactly how. But I obviously did.”
Logan looked up at his son and found Graham shaking his head. “I snagged one. To read while I was in Europe.”
“So you knew?” Logan asked hesitantly.
“Hold on.” Graham headed to his suitcase and rooted through it, then pulled out a journal. He flipped through the pages. “Read that.”
Graham passed the journal over and Logan’s heart sank. “I don’t need to read more of it, Graham—”
“No. Read it. Seriously.”
Logan looked down to where his son was pointing.
This hospital bed is hard—so uncomfortable. I can’t sleep. The chemo makes me feel like I’m dying, and I’m looking over at Logan. He fell asleep—he’s just wiped. But he’s been here, day in, day out. He sits here with me for hours, reading me Reader’s Digest jokes and gossip magazine articles to distract me from the pain.
Tears misted Logan’s eyes. He remembered those long hours together—his months’ long vigil with his beloved wife.
This is a good man. I don’t know that I always appreciated what a good guy he is, but he’s one in a million. I think it’s easy to take people for granted when all is well and everyone is healthy. You get annoyed at the little things, and you don’t see the bedrock of character that you married all those years ago. I see other patients sitting alone, waiting on visitors, but I’ve got him here every second he’s not at work. When he married me, he meant it. I mean, really meant it. And I don’t know what I expected,
