Grace for Drowning

I shrugged. "Cook lunch, read, try to stay out of trouble."

"Is Joy working?"

"Yep."

He didn't seem pleased by that. "Well, if you get bored later you can always come back and hang out here. I've been hitting it pretty hard lately. I could probably use a break."

This was how we talked about the situation now, in code. "Bored," "stay out of trouble," we both knew what these words meant, but this made them more palatable.

"I bet Tony would love that," I replied. "I'll be okay. I have to be alone eventually, Logan."

He hesitated for a few seconds before nodding heavily. "I know. You're right."

I threw myself into the workout with even more gusto than usual. Logan's concern shook me a little. Maybe he was right. Maybe I wasn't ready for this. But what else could I do? I couldn't spend my life being babysat.

By the time I wrapped up, Tony had disappeared. It was just Logan and I alone in the room. He came over as I was getting ready to leave, his face once again laced with mischief. "You know, as of this morning, I'm officially out of cookies."

"I'm sorry for your loss," I replied.

He nodded in mock solemnity. "It's tragic really. I can't imagine where I'll get any more."

I had to admit, I enjoyed seeing Logan so relaxed. The more time we spent together, the more I was able to read him. When he was out in public, even if it was just a quiet afternoon in the bar, he always carried this tension with him. It was subtle — hunched shoulders, ever-darting eyes — but noticeable, like just the act of socializing caused him immense stress. But he seemed more at ease when we were just one on one. He smiled, he joked and he was genuinely good company.

I sighed dramatically. "Perhaps a good natured friend will come to the rescue."

"Perhaps," he said with a grin. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yes sir," I replied. "Sergeant Thomas out."

The workout had performed its magic. I walked out into the Vegas sun feeling surprisingly alert. I'd never been one for heavy exercise before, and it still baffled me that working so hard could make you feel so energetic, but it did. That buzz made all my muscle aches worthwhile.

Before I'd made it halfway down the block, my phone buzzed.

Logan:

Remember. You're stronger than this.

The message brought a smile to my face. That little show of faith was exactly what I needed.

The apartment was sweltering when I returned, and it would take a while for the air conditioner to cut through the heat, so I ate lunch on the balcony in the breeze, catching up on the day's gossip on my iPad. I did my best to ignore the fact that I had no plans left for the rest of the day, but my empty afternoon loomed in my mind nonetheless.

As I headed back inside to clean up, I found my eyes wandering to the cabinet by the front door. When I made the decision to go dry once more, I did another dramatic purging of my liquor, pouring almost all of it down the sink. Almost all.

I licked my lips. There was a lump building in my throat, but I swallowed it down. Logan was right. I was stronger than this.

I turned, headed purposefully toward the kitchen and began unloading ingredients from the cupboard. He wanted more cookies, but he didn't specify what sort, and I had a few ideas that needed a guinea pig.

*****

Getting over the hurdle of that day off felt like a big achievement. I spent the afternoon baking all manner of sugary treats, then caught up on some much needed sofa and TIVO time. I won't say that the urge to pour just one drink didn't flare up from time to time, but I managed to ignore it.

Soon enough, I was back behind the bar. As you might expect, Saturday nights were always a notch above the others at Charlie's. The place was never full to bursting, like a lot of the swankier places on the Strip, but it did a good imitation as the weekend rolled around. To be honest, now that I'd settled in, I actually enjoyed the atmosphere of those nights. The job itself may have been fairly menial, but the pace and energy of it was invigorating. As usual, I slipped into a kind of trance-like rhythm and just let the night flow around me.

"Grace?"

It took a moment for me to pick my name out from the roar of the crowd. I scanned the row of faces lined up along the bar until I spotted one that looked vaguely familiar.

I stepped closer. "Can I help you?"