Logan sets the bowl of half-whipped cream next to the waffle maker and turns off the music. “We’ll do this however you want,” he says, still in the dark about the details. He places his palm against my neck and strokes my cheek with his thumb. “You’re not alone in this.”
I turn my head to kiss his inner wrist before pulling back. “Wait, did you say you had something for me?”
Logan wipes his hands off on his apron. “I do,” he says, walking to the closet in the hallway. He pulls out an object with a sheet draped over it.
He walks whatever it is over to the counter and sets it down in front of me.
“What is it?”
Logan smiles. “I could tell you, or you could just open it.”
I pull off the sheet, revealing my grandparents’ lake house that’s the size of a dollhouse. He… he must’ve built this for me.
I open my mouth and then close it. That happens a few more times. “I…” Tucked inside the house is an envelope. I slide out two tickets forWicked.
“Was it too soon?” he asks. “I didn’t want to be all secretive, but I understand if this is too much.”
“Too much?” I manage to squeak out. “It’s… it’s incredible.”
Better, actually. Because this house, it’s mine.
He’s captured the mash-up of my grandparents’ cottage and cabin. The gingerbread trim is in the same spots as the real thing. The wraparound porch has the exact angles. The bay-windowed dining room that juts out toward the lake is right there. He’s even included the dock.
The only difference with this version is that he included scallop siding. Like a mermaid’s house.
“You didn’t even see the lake house until last week,” I say, confused.
“You described it to me at the firehouse.”
“That’s when you started this?” That was before I knew about the pre-foreclosure. He was going to make this no matter what.
“I figured, even if you did one day own it, why wait until then when you could have a mini version of it now?” Logan says.
It’s possible I’ve just fallen in love with Logan all over again.
“I have the houseandthe city,” I say, more to myself. This gift unleashes a scratchy throat. A rush of tears.
I let them fall. Logan pulls me to him as my tears soak into his green and orange tie-dye shirt, little wet spots spreading on his chest.
“Your clothes are just my tissues and napkins at this point,” I laugh out.
“I can’t think of a better use for them,” Logan says, gently running his thumbs over my cheeks. “Did you want to eat first or make the call?”
I clear the tickles from my throat. “Call, definitely. I don’t want this hanging over my head for any longer than it has to.”
I set my phone next to the miniature lake house and dial Dad. It takes three tries to finally get him to pick up his phone.
“Jerry and I just got pizza. Game’s about to start,” Dad says as soon as he answers. “Can this wait?”
“I need to talk to you now,” I say, swallowing. Before I lose my nerve. “Both of you, actually.”
“Fine, but hurry. This is the fourth game of a parlay I have going, and I gotta pay attention.” The volume on the TV on the other end of the line lowers. “And before you get all huffy, the cashier forgot to charge me for my soda. I told you, my luck’s back.”
“O-kay,” I mumble. “Sure.”
“Putting you on speaker,” he says. “Have you finally come to your senses?”
I inhale deeply and then let out the breath in one long whoosh. “I have.”
