Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 88064 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88064 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
"Well, I guess you’ll want to call your dad now. Put the man out of his misery."
"Yes."
"I know it’s a lot to take in, but if you want to call me and talk some more when the news has settled, I’ll be happy to make time."
"Thank you, Dr. Castor. I really appreciate that."
He says goodbye, and Logan gently takes the phone from my hand, placing it on the table. Then he adjusts me in his arms, so I’m held close to his chest and my face is nestled into his warm neck. His scent, now so familiar to me, relaxes my racing mind. I breathe him in deeply, pushing out the coiled tension that was wrapped around all my internal organs.
"This is great news," he says softly. "Really great news."
"I should have tried to find out sooner," I say, suddenly feeling stupid. There’s no gun to my back anymore, nothing to push me from place to place and experience to experience. I’m free of the burden of trying to appreciate every second of life. How different would things have been if I let Dr. Castor share this news after I took the test?
Vastly different.
I wouldn’t be in Australia. I wouldn’t be wrapped in the strong arms of this handsome, kind, brave man. I wouldn’t be craving the arms of eight other men who’ve shown me that life can be settled and peaceful and still beautiful enough for me to want to exist in it every day.
I wouldn’t know myself the way I do. Pushed to the brink, I know I’m strong enough to bear the weight of life's troubles and come out the other side.
"You found out when you were ready. Today was the right time."
"You wouldn’t have waited."
"Maybe. But there’s no going back, Dawn. Only forward. What’s the point of regretting what you can’t change? This is the moment you have. You’ll never get it back, so appreciate it for all of its joyfulness."
"You only live once," I whisper, the tattoo on my back suddenly taking a different meaning. A quieter, more mindful meaning. Living for the day doesn’t mean running from tomorrow. It can mean existing in contentment.
"Exactly," he says.
"Did anyone ever tell you, you’re a wise man, Logan?"
"One or two people, but I don’t like to boast."
I chuckle against him, feeling the press of his lips on the top of my head, so gentle and reverential, that I have to close my eyes so I won’t cry.
"What do you want to do next?" he asks, after a time.
"Call my dad," I say. "I’ve been avoiding him for so long, and it’s not fair to make him wait another second."
"Okay. Do you want me to stay?"
I shake my head, drawing back to stare up at his serious face. "Can you tell the others? I don’t think I can face it.
"Of course." He bends to kiss my forehead and then relaxes his arms so that I can step out of his embrace. "Take the night off, okay? But when we’ve closed up the bar, come for a nightcap. I think we need to open a bottle of champagne to celebrate."
The warmth of Logan's smile and his reassuring hand on the top of my arm are his parting gifts, and the feeling stays with me as I perch on the edge of the mattress to dial my dad’s number. Logan shuts the door quietly behind him just as my dad picks up.
"Dawn?"
His voice is gravelly and uncertain, and it kills me to hear it. What I’ve put him through is unforgivable and the guilt will stay with me for the rest of my life. "I talked to Dr. Castor. It’s good news."
"You did? It is?"
"Yes. I’m clear of the gene."
Dad clears his throat, and I try to picture him standing in our kitchen, looking out at the back yard, one hand in his pocket or holding a steaming cup of coffee. He’s been standing in the same place for so many years, the rock who kept us both going when the unthinkable happened to our family. How he managed it, I’ll never know.
"I’m sorry," I say, not being able to find more words to express everything that I’m feeling or to better acknowledge his pain, too.
"Don’t be sorry," Dad says softly. "Be happy. That’s all I’ve ever wanted for you."
My throat closes with a huge ball of tears that I fight back, even though there's no one to witness them. He’s right. Crying is often associated with grief and sadness, but today, the tears threatening to spill are filled with nothing but joy.
"Thanks."
"So, where are you right now?"
"Byron Bay. I’m working in a bar called Cloud 9."
"Sounds interesting. And are you planning to come home anytime soon?"
I think about what my life was like before I left. An asshole boss and a job that didn’t stimulate me. A man who I was just passing time with, longing for more. I’m blessed with great friendships, but everyone is moving on, determined to find their own happiness.