“Well, I made enough because I figured Aiden and Deanna would also want a taste, but we’re not voting on which ones are best. Ultimately, it’s up to Logan.”
“Bride-to-be doesn’t get a say?” Shawn asks, directly dipping a finger into the first icing cup, and pulling out a dollop.
He’s tasting it just as I round the marble island and start putting the spoons into each of the cups, because apparently it wasn’t clear enough what they were for. I’m not quite fast enough, and he does stick the same finger he just licked in another cup before I can finish putting the spoons in all of them.
I can’t wait for Logan to leave so I can kick Shawn in the shins.
Logan continues to stand far enough back to watch this whole little vaudeville act, not commenting, also not intervening.
“I imagine normally his fiancée would do taste testing with us, but I wanted to get this out of the way, so I know whether I need to order a bunch of eggs or a bunch of butter for the frosting.”
“Have you met her?” Shawn directs at me.
“No...but I’m sure she’s lovely,” I say, glancing sideways at Logan. He keeps pretty much everything private, so it’s not odd to me that he’s never brought her up before.
Maybe they’ve been a long-distance couple. I don’t know for sure that he’s got a computer setup in his room, but I imagine that’s what keeps him up there, and they probably play a lot of online games together.
“Is she?” he asks, and Logan’s gaze drops to the floor.
“You remember Celine.” Logan shrugs, his body language a little too tense.
“I remember her mother always trying to get us to hang out with her.”
Shawn doesn’t seem fazed by this. I’m trying not to let my jaw hit the ground. They’re acting like it’s normal. I’m glancing between the two of them rapidly, waiting for one of them to give me a hint on how to react.
“...Is this an arranged marriage? Is this like a weird rich people thing?” I ask before I can stop myself.
“I don’t know? I mean, maybe,” Logan says, struggling between talking to me and glaring at Shawn. And for what, revealing this weird little factoid?
His posture tightens, his shoulders raise up a little, his arms cross over his chest.
“I don’t really want to get into it,” Logan mutters. Now he’s pointedly looking away.
Aw, shit. I sigh. “I just meant...I mean, it’s ok. You don’t have to. I can ask Deanna about the icings, if you prefer.”
He gives a brief nod and pretends to glance out into the hall like he heard someone calling him. “I should probably get going, I’ve got some things to do.”
“Oh, well can’t let nonspecific things wait,” Shawn starts to say, but Logan is gone down the hallway before he can finish his sentence.
I may have lived here a while, but clearly there was something missing from the picture. There’s some weird dynamic here that I only got a glimpse of from the other sidewhen we were married. Those two years we lived together felt like enough to really know him, but they weren’t.
I don’t really know what to make of it, now that I’m starting to see what goes on from this side. Maybe I don’t know enough about how arranged marriages are supposed to work in the modern day to judge, but my heart goes out to Logan, whatever he’s going through.
I wait until I hear Logan’s footsteps disappear before I turn around and glare at Shawn.
“You knew that was private. I wasn’t supposed to know that, was I?” I narrow my eyes at him. “How did you know?”
“Because I know my family.”
There’s just a hint of bitterness in his tone.
“Whatever. I need to get working on the hors d’oeuvres for this evening.” I make a shooing motion at Shawn and start gathering some veggies out of the fridge.
I knew Shawn’s mother was the main reason I never met his family, that she opposed us being together, but he never gave me a real reason why. I’ve never thought of the Hayes family I’ve come to know through working together as particularly cryptic. It’s hard to reconcile what I know with the scant details Shawn gave me back then.
“You need help?”
“No, I don’t, you can go—”
