Chapter Eighteen - Calm
Max lain in bed listening to the rain softly bounce off the windows. She closed her eyes and just listened to her two favorite sounds in the world - the rain and Logan's rhythmic breathing. She turned on her side that she could watch the raindrops make lazy, winding paths from the top of the window to the sill. When she grew tired of that, she shifted her gaze to the man sleeping soundly beside her. She resisted the urge to reach over and run a hand through his tousled hair. She told herself over and over that it was real and not another dream. She frowned at the thought of the dreams. They started off so well, with her waking up just like that, but then Lydecker had always burst through the door and had her taken away.
But the worst part was that Logan always slept through the whole thing.
She slid out of bed, careful not to disturb Logan. She knew he needed the sleep. She found a luxurious red bathrobe hanging near the door and slipped it on. It was warm and soft and smelled like Logan. She spotted a rubber band on the dresser and used it to put up her hair - something she knew she would regret later when she was tearing her hair out, but for the moment she didn't care much about that. She had already torn out a lot of hair in Canada, so she doubted a few extra follicles wouldn't be the end of the world.
She slipped out of the room and closed the door quietly behind her. Her feet made barely any noise on the smooth hardwood floors and she smiled. It was a great improvement over her heavy combat boots on weak, creaky floorboards.
She walked to the kitchen and started up the coffeemaker. While it percolated, she decided to check out something that had been eating at her.
She walked to Logan's office and pushed the door open. The room was mostly neat and the only sound was the gentle hums and whirs of Logan's many machines. She stepped into the room and took a seat in front of the computer. She looked around the room until she found what she was looking for.
A space had been cleared on one of the shelves and three frame photographs sat in the space that undoubtedly used to belong to one of Logan's beloved pieces of technology. From her seat, she examined the pictures closely. The first was of her alone, standing near the window with her arms crossed, not quite sad but not quite happy either. The middle photo was one of her and Logan together, sitting on the couch, both staring at the camera. She remembered they had been staring at Bling, shooting daggers at him with their eyes. She was surprised that didn't come out in the photo. Instead, they seemed perfectly peaceful. The last photo was one of her near the door sticking out her tongue. Bling had said it was his last picture and to "do something fun."
She heard movement from the bedroom and got up from her chair. She walked back to the kitchen and hopped up onto the counter next to the coffeemaker.
A few minutes later, Logan wheeled into the kitchen, clad in only a pair of gray sweatpants.
"You look like hell," Max observed with a smirk.
"I'd argue if I weren't so sure that was true," Logan mumbled in reply.
The bags under his eyes looked like they weighed a ton and his pants looked like they might have been inside out. Truthfully, it was a miracle he had managed to pull his sluggish body out of the warmth of the bed at all. Months of barely any sleep and a diet fit for an anorexic beauty queen did that to a man.
"So, I'm making the coffee, what're you making to eat?" Max asked and slid off the countertop. She bent down at the hip to give Logan a kiss then took a seat at the butcher-block island.
"I guess some things never change," he replied and smirked.
"I guess you can blame Manticore for not being big on Home Ec.," she replied with shrug. "How 'bout some eggs? Scrambled, maybe?"
"Your wish is my command."
"I could get used to hearing that."
Logan went to the fridge. "How is it different from when I made you food before?"
"Now I get to hear it," she replied and offered him a smile. "Before it was just, ya know, implied."
He nodded his head and began rooting through the refrigerator for the food.
"I'm gonna go take a quick shower," Max told him.
He nodded and she walked back to the bedroom. She gathered her clothes off the floor with a smirk then headed into the bathroom. She draped her clothes over the hamper then started the water. She let the robe drop to the floor then stepped into the shower.
As the hot water ran over her, she couldn't help but smile. Suddenly the cracks in the ceiling didn't mean so much to her anymore. Comfy bathrobes and inside out sweat pants were the only thing that mattered.
She finished her shower quickly then dried off and changed into her clothes. She threw her wet hair into a ponytail and examined herself in the mirror.
"Hey, Max," she greeted her reflection quietly.
She went through the medicine cabinet until she found the blue toothbrush - her toothbrush, the one she had brought over when crashing at Logan's became habit. She brushed her teeth quickly - though found it hard to keep the smile off her face.
She walked back to the kitchen and found Logan plating the scrambled eggs. He had been ambitious - he had made toast and poured the coffee.
"What do you say we eat in the living room?" he offered. "Ya know, for a change."
"I go wherever the food goes," she replied with a shrug.
She gathered up her plate and coffee cup and followed Logan into the living room. Once they were both settled, with knees and hands meeting accidentally-on-purpose, Max reached for the remote and switched the television on.
"A genetically engineered killing machine that watches cartoons," Logan chuckled.
"I like Sylvester," she replied with a shrug. "He's always trying to get that yellow bird but that stupid dog is always stopping him."
It seemed as if the latest metaphor for her life was an early morning cartoon. She smiled and ate her eggs.
"Work today?" Logan asked.
"Unfortunately," she sighed. "Normal's on my ass about being on time and all. The man has no compassion. I was visiting sick family, after all."
Logan looked at her. "It was the only thing I could think to say to Cindy when she asked. 'Mother' just sort of came out, I didn't mean to -"
"It's no big dealio," she replied with a shrug. She frowned down at her eggs.
She wanted to admit to Logan that something from the bottom of her stomach jumped into her throat and tried to suffocate her when someone mentioned her mother, but she didn't. She figured he didn't need that sort of stress. Besides, thoughts of her mother shouldn't be all bad, after all - her mother had wanted her. That was something, wasn't it? It was certainly one of the things she thought about right when she felt like her heart would shatter and she would soon follow it. It was a small consolation - as all her consolations seemed to be - but it was something at least.
She took a few big bites of her toast before wiping her hands and face with her napkin. "I better jet."
"How about some lunch later?"
"I'll take a run around twelve then," she told him. "May as well get paid."
Logan chuckled. "I like the way you think."
Max grinned and kissed him. She pulled her face away so that their foreheads were touching and she could look in his eyes. She whispered, "Wait 'til you see what I thought up for tonight."
She kissed him again then got up and left the apartment, leaving her final words to hang in the back of his mind all day.