Page 91 of Man Flu

“I’m so sorry,” he says while grabbing his coat and boots.

“Mom, I don’t want Beefcake Batman to leave. It’s snowing really bad too.”

I can’t listen to Cora. She doesn’t understand, although I don’t understand either.

“I put up with crap like this for years, Logan. I just can’t.”

“Crap?” he responds. “I wanted to meet you so fff—orking bad,” he catches himself before cussing in front of Cora.

“Well, now you have, and you can go … spoon yourself tonight.”

Cora giggles. “What are you talking about? I can give you guys a fork and a spoon. They’re right here.”

“You wanted to meet me because I knew nothing about baseball, right?” I retaliate. We had that conversation more than a few times, and now I know why. I hadn’t heard of him, and I was safe.

“No. Well, yes, I wanted a clean start. I didn’t want to be known as ‘that guy’ anymore. You can’t fault me for that.”

“I don’t.” I press my hand onto the kitchen island, needing it to hold me up as my heavy heart tries to anchor me to the ground. “I blame you for not being honest.”

He ties his second boot and stands back up. “Haven’t you ever wanted something so badly, you went about getting it in the wrong way?”

I can’t think clearly enough to answer his question, so I don’t. “Please be careful driving home.”

He looks down and away from me as he opens the door. “Wait!” Cora says while running over to him. She wraps her arms around him, looking like a little doll compared to Logan’s size. She yanks at his shirt, pulling him down to his knees and whispers something into his ear.

“Cora,” I say, wanting her to stop doing whatever she’s doing. In response to me calling her, she releases his shirt and runs back over to me. Logan looks up at me once more, then leaves a cold gust of wind in his place as the door closes after him.

“What did you just say to him?” I ask Cora.

“I just … I told him I’d miss him.” She’s lying.

“Let’s get your homework done so we can pack you up for your dad’s. I’m leaving in the morning for Florida, remember?”

“I remember,” she says with a sigh. “I wish I could go with you.”

“Me too, sweetie.”

“I like Beefcake Batman,” she says. I wish she would stop calling him that.

“I know, but some people come and go from our lives and we need to be okay with that. What’s important is that we always have each other, and we’ll never come and go. Do you understand that?”

“No,” she says as she climbs up on the bar stool. “He likes you too. So, why would you make him leave?”

Her words are making this harder and the hurt worse, and I’m still trying my best to digest all of it. If this was just about Logan for the past week, a man I just met, my heart wouldn’t be hurting, but it’s not. This is a year’s worth of conversations, topped with everything else that happened over the past seven days, which included me taking care of him when he was sick and vice versa. It’s like we had a relationship but didn’t. My head is just everywhere. “He made a mistake Cora, that’s all.”

“You don’t like mistakes, do you?” Cora asks.

“Cora, it’s not like that.”

“What if I make a mistake? Will you not like me anymore either?”

I take the seat next to her and pull her hands into mine. “Cora, you are my little girl. I don’t care how many mistakes you make in your lifetime, I will always, always love you. Do you understand?”

“Kind of,” she says with a whole lot of disappointment settling into her big, blue eyes.

She’s not old enough to understand the big picture, but I don’t want her to feel any of the repercussions of my decisions. I feel like I’ve caused her a whole lot of discontent in the last year. “I’m sorry, sweetie. I am.”

“It’s okay, mom. I’ll try not to make mistakes, okay?”

I’m leaving home with a broken heart tomorrow morning, for so many reasons.

But at least my ass cheeks aren’t still glued together.