“Victor, what’s wrong?” Abby pressed. “You’re making me nervous.”
Victor exhaled, and his shoulders slumped in the telltale posture of a man resigned to his unfortunate fate. “When I was going through your file, I discovered I’d made a terrible oversight.” The tips of his ears turned pink as he pulled another envelope from his briefcase. This time, a small white one. “I found a letter from Mr. Preston. A letter he wrote nearly six years ago. And that I was supposed to deliver upon his death.”
“Oh.” The color drained from Abby’s cheeks, and she took a moment to process the information.
Logan placed a hand on the small of her back with the instinctive need to steady her, both physically and emotionally. A letter from Donnie from beyond the grave? That was some heavy stuff. He couldn’t imagine how she felt right now.
After a long pause, Abby held out her hand for the envelope, but Victor shook his head. “My apologies. I should have been clearer.” He turned toward Logan. “The letter is for Mr. Mathews.”
“Me?” Logan balked. “Are you sure?”
“Quite sure. And please accept my sincerest apologies for the delayed delivery.” He handed Logan the envelope then bid them an awkward, mumbled goodbye before letting himself out.
Logan held the letter in his hands, too flummoxed to speak. Why had Donnie left him a letter? Was it about the house? The timeline matched, since according to Victor, he’d written it shortly after he’d inherited the place.
He had expected to hear something after Donnie’s death, but when he hadn’t, he’d simply carried on as usual, taking care of the house the same way he always had. He’d continued to receive checks from Victor, so why upset the status quo?
He cleared his throat. “I guess we should read it, huh?” He glanced at Abby. Was it weird to read a letter from her ex-husband—one of his best friends—now that they were together? How would Donnie feel about him dating and hopefullymarryingthe woman he loved?
He’d asked himself that question a hundred times and always landed on the same answer. Donnie would want Abby to be looked after, to be cherished. He’d be happy for them.
But what if, by some freakish turn of events, this letter said otherwise? What if Donnie asked him to stay away from Abby? Would he honor his friend’s request? Or worse—would Abby want him to?
Uncertainty swirled in his stomach, but he pressed on anyway, tearing open the seal. “Should we read it together?”
She kneaded her lips, then shook her head. “No. I don’t think so. It’s addressed to you. You should read it first.”
“You sure?”
“I’m sure. I’ll take these back to the kitchen.” She lifted the plate of cookies and forced a smile, but it didn’t fool him. She looked as rattled by what could be in Donnie’s letter as he felt.
He waited until she disappeared down the hall before sliding out the single sheet of notebook paper.
His heart pounded at Donnie’s chicken scratch handwriting covering the page.
Nugget,
A flutter of warmth filled his chest at the familiarity in the greeting. Of course Donnie would address the letter with his call sign—the call sign Donnie had made stick thanks to the care packages Logan’s grandmother sent him loaded with his favorite dessert, Nevada Nuggets. He’d hated the name at first, but once his grandmother passed away, he’d viewed it as a tribute. Funny how losing someone can change your perspective so profoundly.
If you’re reading this, I finally kicked the bucket. Which shocks me as much as it does you. Remember when we thought we’d live forever?
His heart twisted as Donnie’s voice filled the room. He could hear his bright, boisterous baritone so clearly.
Well played, Death. You finally got your man. We had a good run.
Logan could picture Donnie’s jovial grin. He never seemed to take things too seriously. Even death.
Here’s the thing, Nugget. I’m not afraid of dying. I’m afraid of what will happen after I’m gone. To the people I love. To one person above all.
Logan’s pulse spiked, and apprehension skated up his spine. He had to mean Abby. But what was he so afraid of?
You haven’t met Abby yet, but you will soon. Man, how I envy you. Meeting Abby for the first time was the best moment of my life. I’ll try to put it in words you’ll understand. Remember the first time you flew the A-4 Skyhawk? You said it was like strapping a rocket to your back. Well, buddy, meeting Abby is kinda like that. Only a million times better.
Logan couldn’t help a small smile at the analogy. Donnie’s description was spot-on.
I know you think I did you some kind of favor when I hired you to manage the house in Blessings Bay. And as good as my legs look in superhero tights, it’s time I set the record straight. Honestly, I should’ve done it a long time ago.
A heavy weight of foreboding settled on Logan’s shoulders. What was Donnie about to confess?
