Logan & Kayla Duet

Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

LOGAN

My mind is reeling as I drive home and replay exactly what happened between Kayla and me. I analyze every moment—as I always do—and try to pinpoint the exact moment when I lost control. Kissing her was impulsive, I know that, yet it didn’t feel wrong at all. Once her body responded to me I couldn’t hold back any longer. As much as I try, I can’t explain what came over me, and I feel guilty regardless of how exhilarating her warm pouty lips felt on mine. One moment we’re joking, the next our mouths were fighting an impossible battle that I don’t think either of us saw coming. The greed, heat, and passion between us is undeniable, but it’s also dangerous.

Once I pull into my driveway and park, I grab my briefcase of paperwork and coffee and walk in the door. Just as I set everything down on the table, my phone vibrates in my pocket. I pull it out and see Maggie’s name flash across the screen, and I’m forced back to reality—my reality.

“What took you so long to answer?” she asks in an accusing tone. This isn’t anything new though. If she has any sort of chance to paint me as the bad guy, she does.

“My hands were full. What’s up?” I keep my tone flat without any sort of emotion. I know I have to play my cards right with her or she’ll dangle Skylar over my head until she gets what she wants.

“I need more child support. Skylar’s dance expenses are a little more than I anticipated, and I can’t keep up with the payments on top of her costumes and new shoes for the Spring Recital.”

“My child support should be enough to cover all of that,” I tell her. She gets a nice percentage of my check every week, which I don’t resent because I want to take care of my daughter, but Maggie hasn’t always been the best at budgeting.

“Yeah well, that money goes to shelter, food, clothes, hot lunch money, haircuts, shoes…” She rambles on, and finally I cut her off.

“All right,” I drag out, annoyed. “How much do you need for her costume?”

“Two hundred.”

I nearly choke. “For one costume?”

“It’s several costumes and shoes, Logan. These things cost money. Not to mention everything else I’ve had to spend on her.” She says it as if taking care of our daughter is an inconvenience, but I don’t press her on it.

“Fine,” I grit between my teeth. “I’ll bring it with me when I come down this weekend.”

“Actually, I need it before then. Could you mail it?”

“Jesus, Maggie.” I dig my fingernails into my palm. “Fine.”

“Great.” I can tell she’s wearing a smug smile.

“So, have you thought more about moving here? I’d be able to help with these kinds of expenses and taking her to practice and such. Plus, I want to be there for her more,” I tell her, not for the first time, and probably not for the last.

“Not really. It’s not a good time, Logan. Skylar’s already deep into the school year and has made lots of friends. She’s been looking forward to her recital for months. It wouldn’t be fair to just uproot her,” she tells me, although it’s nothing she hasn’t told me before. “Also, I can’t just up and quit my job without having another one lined up. You know this.”

I inhale a deep breath, reminding myself I need to play by her rules if I want Skylar closer to me. “I do; however, Skylar could finish the year out there, and, in the meantime, you could look for a job around here. I’m not expecting you to move overnight, Maggie.”

“Well it sure sounds like it. You’ve been bringing it up every time we speak.”

“Yes, because I want to be involved in my daughter’s life. She’s getting older. I’ve already missed the majority of it because I can only drive down on the weekends.”

“Well, it’s not my fault,” she says in an accusing tone. “I couldn’t afford living there with a baby. Once you left us, I had to manage it all on my own.” She makes sure to remind me every chance she gets, knowing it makes me feel guilty as f**k. It’s not exactly what happened, but arguing about it won’t help anything now.

“Well, she’s no longer a baby. You have a good paying job now, and I’m offering to help you move. I don’t know what else you could want from me, Maggie? I’m trying here.”

She audibly exhales. “Yes, I know, but it’s not fair that you just expect us to uproot everything she’s known for the last five years.”

“I’m her father. She needs me just as much as she needs you,” I remind her.

“She’s been just fine without you,” she spits back, knowing it’ll work my nerves.

“Would you rather I take you to court and fight for custody then? Put Skylar through all of that just because you can’t compromise?” I threaten, knowing it’ll irritate her as much as she’s irritating me.

“On what grounds? I’ve been taking care of her by myself since she was one year old, Logan, so don’t you come at me with your empty threats.”

I’m tempted to remind her she’s the one that left the city and that I could’ve co-parented had she stayed, but I stop myself. I know arguing with her about the past isn’t going to help anything now, but every time Maggie throws it in my face that I wanted out of the relationship, my blood boils.

“C’mon, Mags. Meet me halfway here. I just want to see my daughter more. The neighborhoods are safer here, too. My job is stable and I can provide a consistent schedule since I have seniority. I’ve offered to help cover expenses. I’ll help you look for work or Skylar can stay with me while you’re out on interviews. Anything. Please, Maggie.” I’m begging like a b***h, but Skylar is the most important thing in the world to me, and I won’t stop fighting to spend more time with her.

“Fine. I’ll think about it some more, okay? I need to see if there’s even any nursing positions available near you first before I commit to anything. Not to mention, figuring out how to get out of my lease.”

“Thank you.” I exhale a breath of relief. “If it comes down to it, I’ll help you pay off the lease.” I know she only mentioned her lease because she knew I’d offer to pay it, but at this point, I don’t care. I’ll do anything to get her to move closer to me. Driving back and forth every other weekend isn’t going to cut it for me much longer.

I hear Skylar talking in the background and before Maggie can hang up, I ask if I can speak to her first.

“Hold on.” I hear her shuffling around before she tells Skylar it’s me on the phone.

“Daddy!” Skylar says as soon as she puts the phone to her ear.

“Hey, baby! Did you have a good day at school?”

“Yeah! I had dance tonight and learned a new move.” The excitement in her voice makes me smile.

“Wow, that’s wonderful.”

“Miss Kelly also talked about the daddy daughter dance for the Spring Recital, and I asked her what would happen if you weren’t there for rehearsals this weekend.” Her tone changes and my heart sinks. “She said I wouldn’t be able to participate.”

My brows furrow. “What do you mean if I’m not there? I’ll be there when you need me. Always, baby.”

“Mommy said you wouldn’t be able to make it, but you can?” Hope radiates through her voice, and I know Maggie is probably shaking her head in the background.

“Absolutely, baby. I’m coming down this Friday. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“Okay, Daddy.” I can hear the smile in her voice.

“That’s enough,” Maggie says in the background. “Tell your daddy goodnight. You need to get to bed. It’s getting late.”

“But…” Skylar says and it kills me to hear the sadness in her voice.

“It’s okay, baby. I’ll see you in just a few days,” I tell her.

“I love you, Daddy. Goodnight.”

“Love you, too. Goodnight. Sweet dreams.”

Maggie grabs the phone and tells Skylar to go change into her pajamas before bringing the phone back up to her ear.

“Logan, please don’t get her hopes up about that recital. There’s three or four rehearsals before the event and I’ll be the one that has to deal with her disappointment if you don’t make it. There’s no amount of ice cream that’ll make those tears instantly vanish.”

“I’ll be there,” I tell her harshly, irritated she assumed I wouldn’t. “Just give me all the details and I’ll clear my schedule.”

She huffs. “Okay, I’ll text them to you.”

“Thank you. And thank you for taking the time to think about what we talked about. She’s getting older and will need me. Don’t take that away from her,” I plead with sincerity.

“Don’t twist this into being my fault, Logan. You’re the one who walked away,” she reminds me—once again.

“I never said it was your fault. We both made mistakes, and now I’m trying to make this work for all of us.” I grit my teeth, keeping myself from blowing up.

After hanging up, I think back on those days and what I’d do differently. The truth is, though, everything that we went through is what gave us Skylar; so, in retrospect, I wouldn’t change a thing.

Maggie and I dated for most of our high school years. On and off, both dating other people before we got back together for the last time. I joined the military right after high school until I was medically discharged. Shortly after I returned, I enrolled in the police academy and found a job at the Sacramento PD. Not long after, Maggie and I found out she was pregnant. We were young, but still I was excited to be having a daughter. However, when Skylar was just a baby, I broke it off and my worst nightmare began when Maggie moved her away from me.

The next morning, I wake up to slobbery dog kisses on my face. Not exactly the same as Logan’s lips on mine, which hasn’t left my mind since the moment it happened, but I love waking up to my three fur babies.

I push my favorite sleep mask to my forehead and giggle as I try to fight them off me, but Kristoff—the feisty one—is determined to lick my skin right off.

“Okay, okay! I’m up!” I whip the covers off and slide my feet into my slippers. They’re all looking up at me, fiercely wagging their tails. “Gotta go outside?” I ask in a high-pitched tone I know gets them excited. “C’mon, let’s go!”

I do a quick glance in the mirror and realize my sleep mask is still on my head. Trying to salvage the rat’s nest on top of my head, I pull the mask off and redo my messy bun. Grabbing my sunglasses off my dresser, I follow the dogs down the hall to where their leashes are hanging.

Philip’s a black lab mix and well over a hundred pounds. He easily takes over the bed and never budges when I try to move him. He’s the biggest baby out of them all, too. When all three of them are fighting over a toy, he’s the first to give up because he doesn’t want to fight. Adam’s a tall, skinny mutt but is always the first to finish his food and then usually gets caught trying to eat the other dog’s food. He’s more aggressive when it comes to playing and barking at people walking by. He climbs on top of me when I’m sitting because he thinks he’s a lap dog like Kristoff, who’s a small Beagle mix and ironically thinks he’s big like the other two, always trying to fight and get between them when they’re playing.

I might sound like a crazy dog lady already, but I love them so much. Every time I volunteer at the animal shelter, I’m tempted to bring another one home with me. That’s where I adopted all three of mine. Fell in love immediately and knew they were meant to be mine. Now I even sling dogs off to my friends as much as they’ll let me. I hate seeing them live in the shelter, and every day I wonder if that’s their day to get a new home. It’s sad and bittersweet all at the same time. I love being able to interact with all the pups and show them love in return, but the greatest satisfaction I get is finally seeing them be placed in a forever home.

I leash all three dogs and nearly trip over them as I open the door and they flee down the sidewalk. Walking them all at the same time isn’t an easy task, but I need to get their walk in before I can get ready for work. Every morning as soon as the sun rises, we walk to Donny’s Dogs and Donuts Bar down the road.

It’s become our tradition and one that I know they look forward to. It’s a breakfast cafe that offers donuts and pastries for both people and dogs. So, while I get my pink-frosted with sprinkles donut, each of the dogs get an animal friendly doggie donut that’s healthy for them. I look forward to it every morning if the weather cooperates.

“Kristoff, c’mon,” I say as he stops to sniff every bush. “We gotta hurry if you want to get your treat.”

As soon as I say the word treat, all three of them go wild.

“That’s what I thought,” I say smugly, and start power walking to keep up with them. Donny’s is only a half a mile down the road so we’re there in no time.

“Hola, señorita!” Donny greets me as we walk inside. He’s an older man in his late fifties and gray all around. He’s always so welcoming and kind to us. “How are the fellas today?”

Philip and Adam jump up on the counter and I pull them back, but by the way their tails are wagging, it’ll be a miracle if they don’t spin right off their bodies.

“They’re filled with energy,” I tell him with a smile. “As always.”

“Oh, yes. They’re good dogs.” Instead of reaching over the case, he walks around and hand feeds them their treats instead. “Good boys.” He pets them each on the head and the way he’s interacting with them brings another smile to my face.

“Thanks, Donny. I swear they only behave for you.” I wink at him, knowing he’ll see right through my white lie.

“It’s because I smell like sugar.” He walks back behind the counter and washes his hands off.

I laugh. “Probably. They get their sweet tooth from their mama,” I gloat.

“Which is why I always make sure to put yours aside,” he tells me, handing me a small white box. “I added a little something extra for you today.”

“Aw, Donny! You shouldn’t go to any trouble for me.” I take it from him and he hands me a brown bag to carry it home in. “You’re too good to us.”

“Only the best for my favorite customers.” He smiles wide, and I love that his shop is so close. It really brings a sense of home and culture to our little neighborhood. He also serves great coffee, but without a free hand to carry it back, I only get it if I stop in alone.

The dogs are eager to get back to their walk, so I pay and tell Donny goodbye and that we’ll see him tomorrow. As we’re walking back, I notice a dog, chained to a picnic table in a random backyard a few blocks over from my house. The chain is short and the dog, who looks like a lab mix that’s no older than two or three, is all tangled up underneath. He’s lying as close to the picnic legs as he can in order not to choke. Upon closer inspection, I realize there’s no food or water dishes either. My blood is boiling.

My dogs start barking and I shush them before they scare the poor pup that’s being held like a prisoner. Gathering their leashes in one hand, I inch closer to the dog and let him smell my hand.

“Hey, little guy,” I say softly. My three dogs are eager to smell him, but I do my best to keep them apart.

“I’m just going to untangle you, okay?” I do the best I can with one hand and getting the chain untangled from the legs of the picnic table. “There ya go.” I pet his head and let my dogs smell him for a moment before pulling them away. I pet under his belly and can feel his ribs. He also has some patches of hair missing, probably from always having to sit out here with no room to stand or run.

“Are you hungry?” I ask him, the anger building up inside me as I dig around for an extra puppy donut. “Here you go.” I pet his head and smile.

He so sweet, but looks so timid. I’m angered that he’s out here with no food or water dishes and it’s supposed to be a hot day. Hopefully, he’s just out here for a few minutes and the owner will bring him back in. Otherwise he’s going to get dehydrated.

“I’ll come back tonight and check on you, okay? Don’t you worry.” Hopefully he won’t still be tied up, but I won’t be able to sleep tonight unless I know for sure.

When I stand up, I feel this nagging ache in my gut about leaving him behind. He looks up at me with sad eyes and I hate that his owner put him in this position. It’s going to be at least eighty degrees today and by seven in the morning, the sun is already blaring down. The only shade the dog has is the damn picnic table he’s chained to.

Before leaving, I snap a picture of the dog on my phone just in case. If his owner isn’t going to take care of him properly, I won’t hesitate to find someone who will.

Later that night after work, I drive down the street to where I found the dog and find him still tied outside. I brought along some extra food dishes and a bottle of water. The dog greets me as soon as he notices me, and I kneel to pet him.

“Hey, I told you I’d be back.” I smile at him, wishing I could take him back with me. I set one dish down that’s already filled with food and pour the water into the other dish. I make sure he’s untangled and sit with him for a few minutes as he chows down on the food and drinks the water as if he hasn’t had any in days.

“You poor guy. This is f*****g ridiculous,” I mutter, my blood boiling the longer I watch him. He’s starving and thirsty and his owner doesn’t even give a s**t. He could die out here in this heat with no water and I’ll be damned if I let that happen. “Be right back, okay?”

I see a light is on, and without much thought, I march up to the door and pound my fist against the wood.

A moment goes by without an answer, so I continue knocking. I finally hear someone walking around inside and muttering curse words as an older gentleman opens the door.

“Who are you?” he asks roughly. “Don’t try to sell me anything. Not interested.”

“I’m not. My name is…Mildred,” I lie. “I noticed your dog didn’t have any food or water, so I brought some for him,” I explain.

“Why the hell did you do that?” he grumbles, the lines on his face tense. “Who said you could come onto my property and touch my dog?” he shouts louder, narrowing his eyes and gripping the door as if he’s about to slam it in my face at any moment.

“If you can’t care for him, I can take him off your hands. I volunteer at the animal shelter and would happily find him a new home,” I tell him kindly. “He’s been outside, tangled around that picnic table all day.”

He grunts. “Herman is just fine out there. He pisses and shits in my house when I’m at work, so he stays outside and eats inside.”

“It was almost ninety degrees today and you left him out there with no water. That’s cruel! You should be ashamed of yourself!” My voice rises without realizing it and soon I’m shouting at him.

“Get the f**k off my porch before I call the cops. And stay off my goddamn property,” he shouts back.

“Good! Call the cops! I’ll tell them you’re neglecting that poor dog and they can decide if you get to keep him or not.” The words come out as a threat, but I won’t hesitate to tell the cops exactly what he’s doing to that poor dog.

“I said get off!” he yells just before slamming the door in my face. I’m so enraged, I can feel my heart pounding wildly in my chest. I walk back to the table tempted to take Herman, but the owner will know it was me if I take him now.

I pet his head and softly say, “I’ll be back. I won’t let him get away with this.”

Reluctantly, I stand up and walk back to my car. Driving the short distance back home, I feel saddened that some dog owners feel no remorse for the way they treat their animals. Situations like this drives my motivation to start a nonprofit charity for a no-kill shelter even more, so when dogs are brought in from neglected or abused homes, they have a safe place to go without the threat of being put down. On average, seven hundred thousand dogs are euthanized annually.

I won’t let Herman be one of those statistics.