Chapter Four

Logan armed with fishing poles and the other fishing necessities and me, carrying the cooler and the lawn chair, made our way to out the pier. Dropping our stuff, Logan set up the poles, and I set up the chairs. Calling up a mini rain cloud, I filled the cooler with water to preserve the fish we catch. I'm sure Logan will catch more but I'm up for the challenge.

The thing about fishing is patience. You can't be in a hurry because you could be there for a good three hours, and not get a bite. But that's the joy of fishing, the unhurried pace of everything. You get to do things not by man's time but by nature's time. It's a great opportunity to reflect on your life, past and present, or to try to sort out things that you are going through. Once we were settled, I opted to the latter to figure out what I am going to do with my love for Logan.

I have been in love with him for a few years now. I don't know how it happened but one day while he was conducting his biweekly martial arts classes, I looked him in the eyes and my heart started pounding, my palms started sweating, and I got butterflies in my stomach. I had to break eye contact because I was afraid I was having a heart attack or something.

I broke the hold we were practicing and said that I remembered that I had something to do. His eyes were bewildered but he nodded and I turn and flew to my room. I mean I literally flew to my room.

Why Logan? Why now? Those thoughts raced through my mind as I paced the floor. I didn't know then, nor do I know now. All I know is that I do. I guess its true what they say about love, you can't help who you fall in love with.

"Whatcha got on yo mind, Ro?" Logan asked, bringing me out of my thoughts.

"You," I confessed, without thinking first. Shocked at my slip, I tried to think of a way of playing it off.

"Me? Whatcha thinking about me for?" he asked, checking the lines and going back to his seat.

Dammit, why I had to say that, I thought, still trying to come up with a way of not telling him what I was really thinking.

"I realize, Logan, that I hardly know you," I said, making it up as I went along, "I mean, I know about you and what you have been through but I don't really know you."

He looked at me, his eyes full of questions.

"What I mean is," I said, turning to face him, playing it cool, (or so I hoped), "I don't know the simple things about you that make you you. I know you have an animalistic nature, don't really care for cutesy things, and that you have a very bad temperament when people or things get to you, but I don't know what you like."

"I know what you don't like, damn near everything," I said, making him smile, "but what do you like?"

Getting up, Logan looked as if he had never thought about it before.Mindlessly, he checked the lines again, I guess needing something to fiddle with while he pondered my question.

"What type of stuff ya wanta know?"

Okay, now we're getting someplace.

"Why don't we do it like this. I'll ask a question and answer it and then you answer it. Then you can ask me a question and follow the same order. What you think?" I proposed, trying to make it a little easier for him.

"A'right, you start," he said, looking like he didn't really want to but did so to humor me.

"Okay, what's your favorite color? Mine is the color of the Caribbean Ocean."

"Blood Red."

"Why am I not surprised. Just like a natural born killer," I said, teasing him, "Okay, now you ask me a question but you have to answer it first."

"What's your favorite song? Mine is "In the End" by Linkin Park. It switches from calm to crazy in a matter of seconds. Sorta reminds me of me."

"That's so true," I said, laughing and he joined in.

It was great to hear him laugh. I hardly ever heard his laughter since before the last time he left about eight months ago. He stayed away a long time. I was worried about him but I kept it myself. When he returned, he seemed different somehow but yet the same. I figured it had something to do with Jean but with Logan, you couldn't come out and ask him straight questions because he didn't like people getting in his business so I kept watch from a distance.

"I guess right now mine is a little of everything. One minute I like R&B or other I like Classical, then its Jazz," I said answering the question, "So I guess it changes depending on my mood."

"Okay, my turn. So what is your favorite…"

We went back and forth with questions until suddenly, the lines started straining. Logan jumped from his seat and caught one. "Ro, grab that other one and reel it in."

My heart racing, I grabbed my line and following his instructions, started reeling in. It felt like I was trying to pull in a whale but when I pulled it out of the water, it was a small, itty bitty thing. Logan's was much bigger. He showed me how to take the fish off the hook and put bait back on it. Soon as the hook hit the water, I got another bite. We put off our conversation and concentrated on catching the fish. When Logan thought we had enough, we packed up. Looking up, I watched as the sun started setting off in the distance.

"Isn't that beautiful?" I said, causing Logan to look up and watch the sunset.

"Yeah. This place has the best sunsets and sunrises. If you are up to it, we can watch the sunrise tomorrow?" he said, looking at me.

"I'd like that," I said, looking back, smiling, picking up the chairs as he picked up the other stuff, including the cooler. I pulled out the flashlight we had brought along and illuminated the path back to the cabin. We opted to stay indoors since it was a tad bit chiller than Logan thought it would be outside.

"Have a seat. Dinner should be ready soon," he said, taking the cooler in the kitchen.

"I thought you said I had to work for my dinner," I said, ignoring his order and following him in the kitchen.

"You did."

"Logan, I will not let you clean, cook, and serve the food without helping. That would not be right," I responded.

"Ro, you're a guest."

"I may be but I'm a guest who works for her food," I said smiling, "And I don't want to hear another word otherwise, Wolverine."

I tried to "pull rank" by calling him by his team name and speaking authoritatively, but of course it only made him laugh and give in all the same.

We lifted the cooler and poured the fish into the sink. For a minute I felt sorry for the fish, but my stomach loudly reminded me that I was hungry and that the fish were the food. So we started to clean the fish. After most of the fish was cleaned, Logan started heating the oil and working on the side dishes.

I finished up and asked if there was something else I could do.

"No," Logan grunted, shooing me away from the counter. Smiling, I took a seat at the breakfast nook and watched as Logan became the master of the kitchen. Concentrating on the job at hand, he didn't look up at me until the last piece of golden crisp fish came out of the oil.

"Dinner, my lady, is served," he said, setting a plate in front of me. It looked and smelled wonderful. He took the stool across from me.

"A toast," I said, raising my wine glass. Doing the same, Logan waited for me to continue.

"To a beautiful, long lasting, trusting friendship and a calm, peaceful weekend."

"I'll drink to that," he said downing his wine in one gulp. Laughing, we talked about nothing and everything, sharing as friends do when they are free to speak. What a wonderful way to end the night, I thought.