When Logan looked up, there were tears in his father’s eyes. He realized then that his father was telling the truth. He was trying to protect and care for his family, Logan included. And despite everything Vince was saying to him, he still thought of him as his father. And he always would. He did what a father was supposed to do, even going above and beyond for a child that wasn’t even his. No matter how he felt about the news and how long he’d been kept in the dark about it, he wouldn’t allow his dad to torture himself about it a moment longer.
“I don’t blame you, Dad. Not at all. And I could never hate you.” He very specifically chose to call Vince by the name he’d always called him so he would know that biology be damned, Vince Anthony was his father. Norman Chamberlain was just a genetic contributor and a lazy one at that. “You stepped up and did what a lesser man wouldn’t do. I love you for that. I always will.”
Logan stood up and embraced his father. He could feel the weight on the smaller man’s shoulders virtually melt away until he seemed almost an inch or two taller. “I couldn’t have asked for a better man to raise me.”
“Thank you,” his father said as they pulled away. He reached into his pocket and pulled out one of the embroidered handkerchiefs he always had with him. He rubbed at his red, moist eyes and shoved it back into his pants. “Well, do you feel like you can go back inside and eat some fried chicken?”
Logan shook his head. “No, Dad. I think I need to go home and process all of this before I talk to Mama or anyone else. Tell them I’m sorry, but I’m going to head on home.” Vince nodded and patted his shoulder. “Slip out the garage door. I’ll shut it behind you.”
Logan hugged his dad again and waited as the old, rickety track lifted the garage door. He waved as he walked out, heading for his car. He hated to leave like this, especially on a night he was supposed to be celebrating with his family. He didn’t blame his dad, or even his mother, but in this raw state, he might say something that sounded like he did. He could feel the heat of anger start to boil in his veins, and he didn’t want them to see that. His father had been trying to put an end to the animosity by telling the truth, but it hadn’t worked. Knowing the facts had just lit the fire of rage in Logan. He couldn’t anticipate a time when he could embrace those people as part of his extended f
amily.
No, he didn’t blame his parents. He blamed Norman Chamberlain.
Chapter 18
“Pepper, can you take a walk-in before we close up?” Sarah asked.
She looked up from the client she was currently finishing and saw Grant standing at the counter with a sheepish grin. He was looking a million times better than he had the last time she saw him. He’d spent Sunday afternoon with his family at his mother’s insistence. Monday night, she’d gotten wrapped up in the Kincaid drama and later, in her own family’s revelations.
This was the first she’d seen him since Sunday morning. It was also the first she’d seen him since the truth came out about her brother’s paternity.
Even though Logan knew the truth now, and everything was out in the open as far as her nuclear family was concerned, it was still very much a secret. She felt better knowing she wasn’t lying to Logan anymore, but looking at Grant and seeing those same blue eyes just reminded her that she was keeping secrets from him. She hated that.
She forced a smile onto her face and answered her boss. It wouldn’t take long to trim Grant’s hair. “Sure. I’m almost done here.”
Miss Phyllis was just in for her biweekly curl set. The style had gone out of fashion with a lot of older ladies, but Miss Phyllis was hard-core on tradition. Every two weeks she came in for a shampoo, and then Pepper rolled her head in curlers and put her under the dryer. When it was done, she would look like a perfectly coiffed cotton ball.
She took her round brush and finished shaping up Miss Phyllis’s hair. That was her last appointment of the day but she was happy to stay a few minutes longer to check in with her patient. Pepper had been worried about him being alone during the day while everyone worked.
She saw Miss Phyllis out and escorted Grant back to the chair. “You didn’t ride your motorcycle over here, did you?”
“No,” Grant chuckled. “Blake took me to Doc Owens to get my bandages changed after he finished at school. I asked him to drop me here when we got done. I’m overdue for a haircut anyway. I’m starting to feel like a guy in a boy band. It was also the perfect excuse to come see you.”
“I’m glad you did.” And she was. Her nerves at seeing him had faded and a sense of peace had replaced it. She liked being with Grant, even though it was complicated.
When Pepper looked up, she noticed Sarah was counting up the drawer and getting ready to leave for the evening. “I’ll lock up, Sarah. You go on ahead.”
Her boss nodded, happy to duck out a little early. By the time Pepper had finished trimming Grant’s thick, dark brown hair, her boss was long gone.
“What did Doc Owens say about your arm?” she asked as she dusted off the trimmings from the back of his neck.
“He said it was healing well. He doesn’t think I’ll need any skin grafting, but he told me I should see a burn specialist in Birmingham after a few weeks just to be certain. Mack put the fire out pretty quickly, so I think he saved me from the worst of it.”
Pepper removed the plastic cape and hung it on the hook beside her station. Normally she would sweep up, but she decided she would just come in a little early and deal with all that in the morning. “I’m glad. What about your head?”
“Well, I’ll never score perfect on my SATs,” he said. “But I couldn’t do that before, so no great loss.” Pepper swatted him playfully on the shoulder and helped him out of the chair. “Quit it.”
“He said it’s fine. When I fell and hit my head, I got a mild concussion and a knot on the back of my skull. The cut from the explosion didn’t cause any real brain trauma. I’ll get the stitches taken out of my forehead next week. I’m hoping I’ll be back at work soon after that.”
Pepper doubted it. “You’d better manage your expectations. I think you’ve got at least two weeks of rest ahead of you, whether you like it or not.”
“Probably.” He shrugged with a grin. He was pretty chipper about the whole scenario, all things considered.
She gathered her things and they locked up the shop. They both climbed into her SUV. “Where are we off to?” she asked. “Your place or mine?”
“Why don’t we pick up where we left off Friday before I set myself on fire? I was going to bring takeout and a movie to your place, so let’s do that. I’m getting tired of staring at my own boring walls.”