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Chapter Eight
“Where the hell can he be? There’s something fishy going on here,” Billie said, as she threw her cell on the Formica table of the diner we were in.
“What now?” I asked with a furrowed brow. Logan had agreed to allow Billie sole custody overnight for the following three months and to control the contact as she saw fit. If Logan hadn’t agreed to these terms, she was going to take him to court. Naturally, these terms were more favorable to him than the alternative.
After talking to me, she agreed it was in Colby’s best interest for him to still see his dad, as long as he was sober, but that any contact had to be with supervision. No one could blame her after what he’d done. I helped set up a private arrangement for contact to be supervised by a family friend of my mother’s, who had been a private school principal. Naturally Logan went along with the bone Billie threw him, because he knew if he fucked up again his ass would be in court faster than he could blink.
The last thing Billie had wanted was for Colby’s contact with his father to be disrupted, however, she had told Logan in no uncertain terms that their son’s welfare came above everything else. Supervision was hurriedly put in place and visitation agreed for Logan to have two hourly visits, twice a week with his son. This arrangement was to remain in place until Billie felt comfortable to agree to more. Logan had met his commitments for the first four visits and complied with every rule she had put in place.
One to these weekends fell on our birthdays, and the best I could offer my woman was a quick lunch for this and a family dinner the following evening as Colby stayed with us every night. It had felt frustrating but I reminded myself I had the rest of my life to make this up to her.
* * *
“He didn’t turn up,” she huffed in frustration, as she read the text she’d received. She stood worrying her lip between her thumb and forefinger.
“Okay, let’s go back. Just stay calm and remember how you react is how Colby will too. Seeing the strain on her face with the worry he’d cause her, made me feel fucking mad.
During the walk to collect Colby, Billie tried calling Logan’s phone, but kept getting his voicemail. “I’m so fucking angry right now,” she muttered between gritted teeth.
“Look something may have happened,” I offered, trying to take her fury down a notch before she got to her son.
“Logan happened,” Billie shot back unperturbed. Where I’d always been a glass half full kind of guy it was hard to maintain this view with her ex, given his past track record, but there was always a first time for a genuine excuse, so I kept my mouth shut and let this one play out by itself.
Poor little Colby looked devastated and neither Billie nor I had any excuse why his father had stood him up.
After we had taken Colby home, I tried to distract Billie from making more calls by talking to them both about the wedding. She had already begun to make plans with my mother and sisters, and I thought this was something that would take their minds off Logan. Several attempts to engage them fell on deaf ears when I saw they couldn’t concentrate on anything else except him. I knew they would rest until they knew he was okay.
The mood in the house was like someone had died. When Billie began to make dinner, I grabbed the keys to my bike and told her I had needed to fill up on gas. This was a half-truth in that I had needed gas but instead of returning home, I rode the twenty minutes to Logan’s address. By the time I arrived at his condo and saw his lights were on, my reaction was one of pure frustration and I was almost spoiling for a fight.
It took me several deep breaths to feel in control before I knocked on the door, and even as I heard the lock turn, I wasn’t sure what would come out of my mouth or even if I’d let him explain. The fight was knocked out of me when it was Poppy who answered the door.
“Where is he?”
“Logan?” she asked, a hint of surprise in her tone.
“Who the fuck else would I be looking for?” I barked, my palm flat against the condo door, holding it open.
“Logan doesn’t live here anymore.”
“He what?” I bellowed so loud her body jumped in response.
“He doesn’t live here,” she repeated a lot less cocky than she had the first time.
“What do you mean, he doesn’t live here? Where is he?”
“I have no idea. Logan and I haven’t lived together since a few weeks into the year.”
“You haven’t had Colby here since then?”
“Look, we didn’t work out and the lease is mine,” she shrugged. “I have no idea where he went, but I do know he doesn’t have a job either. Apparently, he was drunk and abusive on campus, and that doesn’t fly with the board.”
“I don’t believe you,” I said, staring at the woman who was pretty on the outside, and it gave me no pleasure to know I had assessed her right when I figured she was more callous in her selfishness than the man she stole from Billie. “Have you no conscience? You broke up his marriage then tossed him to the curb?”
“Having lived with Logan, I’d say I did her a favor. What does it have to do with you, anyway? Why are you so keen to find him? Newsflash, that guy would take your place again in a heartbeat, with his ‘Billie always did this for me, Billie didn’t complain about that.’ I was tired of competing with St. Fucking Billie, how’s that for a revelation?”
“Whoa, lady. Look at you, running off at the mouth. I thought you were supposed to be an academic, one of those elite few we trust to ensure our citizens of tomorrow are balanced and knowledgeable. You need an acute attitude adjustment. Tell me, did you lose your humility when you became a professor or have you always behaved this way? It terrifies me you are leading the scientists of our future. I don’t have a lot of time for Logan but fuck, I feel sorry for him because the guy must have had some weirdly skewed midlife crisis to have taken up with you.”
“Is that right? Well, when you catch up with him, tell him he has one more week to collect his shit or I’m putting it out with the trash,” she called after me, as I headed back toward the elevator. Pulling out my cell phone I saw Billie had sent me a couple of texts while I’d been talking upstairs.
