Chapter Eleven: "Easy Come, Asiago" Burger:
"Those lanterns are, like, so pretty. Look at all the candles. My favorite lanterns are the ones with the copper finish. Which ones are your favorite?" Harley asked, talking a mile a minute. Louise pulled off her Ears and tossed them onto the dashboard.
"I don't know," Louise sighed. She was grateful for the company on a slow, cold night. With no coursework, the last few weeks had been boring during food patrol. It was a few days after New Year's and business was dismal with everyone cozy and tucked away indoors.
Louise didn't think she'd said more than a full sentence to Harley since her companion set foot in the truck. Harley was prattling on about her semester grades, the guy she was kind of dating, and how she was going to move back home after college. Louise glossed over it the first time it was mentioned, then what Harley said hit her.
"You're moving back? Here?" Louise gestured through the open service window and out towards the park. She said the words like she was talking about a Dumpster.
"Yeah, I miss this place. It has character."
"Harley! Sweetheart! Baby! Why would you do that to yourself?"
"Why don't you leave?"
"Because I can't see a future without the restaur-"
"Exactly," Harley said, cutting Louise off.
Louise had always thought of herself and Harley as being on different paths.
Louise saw herself opening up more burger joints and expanding a brand. She saw herself always being a phone call away from Gene and Tina. Sometimes, she could picture a distant future where she traveled to far places and traveled often.
For Harley, she saw a fuzzy golden outline of an outgoing young woman who networked successfully and always closed the deal - friendly and boisterous. Maybe living in an apartment in New York City or Jersey City. Something with a loft, potted plants, and an open plan kitchen.
The two young women stared out the service window at the circle of middle aged hipsters in the center of the park. Lanterns and candles lit for their Take Back the Night vigil. Louise and Harley had been driving around for the better part of an hour, until they landed eyes on the huge crowd in the park. Then they stopped 2.0 and Louise had Harley mark their Chowster location on her phone.
Becket and Maya spotted 2.0. They gathered their hungry hipster troops and descended.
Becket and Maya talked for a little bit: "Give Bob and Linda our regards" and "Isn't this just such an amazing experience?" and "Aren't you young ladies just feeling so empowered?" Louise just nodded and smiled, all the while focusing on how great Becket and Maya looked for their ages. Linda's reiteration of, "They have such an exciting life," ringing in her head.
After being stationary for over an hour, the beauty of the vigil started to wear off and it was getting hard for Louise to drown out Harley's droning. They hadn't had a single customer since the deluge of hipsters.
"I am getting so bored," Louise announced. She pulled out the "Hurt Locker" and started counting the evening's earnings.
"It's kinda late," Harley offered, staring at her phone screen to check the time.
"You like music? I'm thinking: music."
"I just love pop, but you should tell me about your favorite kinds of pop. We have so much music catching up…"
Louise found her ability to tune her friend out would be getting a full workout tonight. She stared out the windshield. Why did she open up anything to ambiguity? Harley was already way ahead of her when it came to turning everything into twenty questions.
Louise turned the key in the ignition. The engine didn't turnover. She tried again. 2.0 started with a sputter. She drove until she parked in front of The Ear Drum.
The loud, thrashing rock riffs could be heard outside. Louise dragged Harley in with her and the two held down a table in the back of the venue. It felt like a lifetime before one of the waiters took their drink order, the club nearly overflowing.
Harley scrolled through her phone and stopped abruptly. She turned the screen for Louise to see. It was a Facebook album of Jessica and Rudy in a field by a lake, striking different poses. Rudy down on one knee, Jessica looking shocked to see a ring she'd probably already been wearing for months, both of them gazing down at Jessica's bulbous belly. She posted the pictures to her profile and tagged Rudolph Stieblitz with the caption: "You Take My Breath Away."
" 'Take My Breath Away'. Clever," Louise said in disgust.
"What? It's cute," Harley said.
"Yeah, if you think being obnoxious and unoriginal is 'cute.' "
"Don't be bitter. You know, if you had Facebook, that announcement you got in the mail might not have surprised you so much," Harley raised her voice a little louder so she could be heard over the music. She scrolled on her phone a little more and turned the screen for Louise to see again. Harley was on Jessica's profile. The pictures were the first thing Jessica had posted in over a year.
"Did you know until you checked your mail," Louise retorted in a raised voice. "Is this really the best place to have this conversation? "
"I mean, no. I didn't even, like, know that they were together. I talked to Jessica, like, a year and a half ago and she dropped hints about someone, but nothing was, like, totally obvious. And nice try, but we're having this conversation."
"At least Jessica talks to you," Louise crossed her arms. Both girls were speaking at higher and higher decibels to combat the loudness.
"Yeah, twice in the last four years," Harley took a long sip of her drink. "Stop feeling sorry for yourself. It's, like, so not you."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Louise said indignantly.
"Yeah, you do. You're still pissed at Jessica and Rudy for dropping us like they did. Remember, they stopped talking to me, too."
"I'm totally over it," the defensive edge in Louise's voice wasn't subtle.
"I'm not talking about romance, numbskull. I'm talking about, like, trust," Harley chirped. "Stop saying things like 'I'm over it.' People aren't going to believe you if you keep talking like that."
"I didn't know I was in an after-school special."
"My feelings were hurt too, girl. But life changes and we all move on. Rudy and Jessica want their friends back in their lives. Are you going to just throw away, like, seventeen years of friendship with them just because a few of those years were bad?"
"I could," Louise kept her arms crossed.
"But you won't," Harley chirped. "I think the only reason Jessica even reached out to me was because she was too afraid to talk to you. You're, like, kind of loose-cannon. Would you message Louise Belcher, if you thought she was going to just yell and go off?"
"You've made your point."
"So are you going to the baby-shower-engagement-thing then?"
"I dunno. It's two months away. I'm still making up my mind."
"So you're going to say you're not going, then at the last minute you'll feel bad and change your mind?" Harley forecasted.
"Nothing's set in stone," Louise ran a hand through her hair.
The two friends stared out into the raucous crowd. Two young men were at the front of the venue, climbing over one another to get onto the stage. They looked familiar with ruffled hair and matching shirts. Louise stared harder, trying to place them.
"Oh My God, is that Andy and Ollie?" Harley asked, squinting her eyes.
Louise and Harley would have made an effort to talk to the Pesto Twins, if they hadn't been so busy laughing at them. Ollie fell off the stage and Andy dove into the crowd to come to his rescue.
A few nights after the conversation in The Ear Drum, Harley made her way back to Newark her last semester and Louise stood in her parents restaurant in an apathetic haze. There were a few hours left until close, but the dinner rush was dying down and Louise was staring at the clock waiting for the moment she could escape her position by the cash register to stand in the cold food truck with its shitty space heater.
Louise was refilling napkin dispensers, back against the cash register, when she heard the bell over the door ring. She looked up.
"No."
"Hello to you, too."
"No."
"Is that how you talk to all your customers?" Logan asked. She wasn't wearing her Ears, but he kept that observation to himself.
"Only the ones I'm about to kick out," she smirked.
"I called you," Logan said, taking a seat at the counter. "A few times, actually."
"I know. I just didn't answer."
"Of course not," he rolled his eyes. "Too much effort, right?"
"You should try calling me sometime when I'm not asleep or working. Then you might get an answer."
"So, you'll never pick up?"
"Damn, you catch on quick."
"Well, I want a burger and to talk to someone who'll take me up on my offer about marketing strategy."
"You won't find either of those things here."
"Louise, stop being so rude to the custo-" Linda appeared in the service window. She stopped talking when she noticed Logan.
"It's Cynthia's green-eyed monster. I reserve the right to be rude," Louise crossed her arms, but smiled at her mother. Logan awkwardly waved at Linda.
"Burger of the Day?" Linda asked, her voice sounded upbeat, but she wasn't trying to hide her curiosity as to why Logan Bush was sitting in their restaurant.
"Yeah, thanks," Logan said as Linda disappeared into the kitchen. Louise could see her mother sticking close to the service window, poorly hiding her nosiness from her daughter.
"Did you get lost on the way home or something?" Louise asked.
"I was in some late meetings. Wanted to grab a bite before I got home. 'It's a free country' as someone I know likes to say."
"If they had any sense, they'd fire you."
"Just like you did, Belcher?" there was that impish grin again. "Who lets a nine-year-old be in charge of Human Resources?"
"Stuff a napkin in it," she threw back, avoiding eye contact with Logan, but feeling a blush forming lightly on her cheeks anyway.
"So are you going to answer your stupid phone next time?"
"I don't think you can tell me anything about marketing strategy that I don't already know."
"It's your future," Logan shrugged. Linda passed the burger through the service window. "So, when did you guys get the bell above the door? I don't remember it being there."
"Sometime in between 'wouldn't you like to know,' and 'it's always been there,' " Louise said, taking the plate from Linda and setting it in front of Logan.
Logan gave a hollow laugh, but was quiet after that. Louise went back to refilling napkin dispensers. Logan paid his bill and left unceremoniously, the restaurant now empty of customers.
When Louise saw the vague car shape disappear out of view of the storefront, she started counting the seconds down until…
"What was all that about, Miss Missy?" Linda asked, appearing in the service window, hands on her hips.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"You being a flirty pants with Logan Bush."
"That was not flirting. That was so the opposite of flirting."
"You're full of it," Linda crossed her arms
"Mom!"
"Does your father know about this?"
"No, because there's nothing to know."
"That boy likes you."
"Do you want me to throw up?"
"He asks about you and asks about you when he's with his mother at the Yacht Club."
"He probably needs more oxygen, poor thing. It's hard to come to your senses when you're still strangled by the umbilical cord," Louise crossed her arms and stared back at her mother.
Linda might have laughed at her daughter's wry wit if she hadn't felt like a secret was being kept from her.
Louise didn't talk to Linda much over the following days unless it had to do with work. It was all very curt and brief and didn't escape Bob's notice. Bob asked Linda what was wrong. He asked until he knew he was on thin ice.
When Bob confronted Louise, she denied any culpability.
"It's menopause," Louise told Bob. "So much raging menopause."
"Your mother is not going through menopause. At least, don't say that in front of her."
To her mother's credit, Louise knew Linda wouldn't say a word to Bob. Linda was proud of many choices Louise had made, though there were others she didn't approve of. Linda understood Louise's need for privacy. She was willing to respect it in the interim.
Louise spent her following nights thinking about Logan Bush, during lulls on food patrol. His stupid smile, his disgusting charm, his bad attitude. The fact that he had called her at least once a day everyday for the last week and a half. Sometimes he left voicemails. Sometimes he didn't. All of them were about marketing. None of them were personal.
At first, Louise ignored it easily enough. Then her annoyance reflashed. How could someone be so cocky and arrogant enough to put his number in her cellphone? He was acting like he was doing her a huge favor. Giving her the time of day. Bothering to help her develop an outline for the future of "Belcher's Burgers and Beer."
Another day went by. No call. Then two days. Then three.
He decided he was absolved? After he'd made all that fuss about how great at his job he was and how he was so willing to help her. What a jackass!
On a blustery Thursday night in the middle of January, Louise found herself and her food truck in the sketchy part of town, right outside of the Marbles and Glitter's stomping grounds. Someone had to feed the drunk, horny, and depraved. So she sold burgers and lots of them, as she paced around the inside of the food truck, her anger at Logan Bush blooming at an exponential rate.
After midnight, Louise picked up her flip phone and hit the call button before she could think better of it. The other line picked up after two rings.
"To what do I owe the honor?"
"You made such a big fucking deal about helping me and now you can't even be bothered to call me? You co-"
"You didn't pick up your phone. Was I supposed to keep wasting my time?"
"You could have -"
"Could have what? Acted more desperate than I already was? You can't have it both ways, Belcher." He'd said Belcher, not Smellcher. He'd done it a few times since New Year's, and it hadn't escaped her notice. Louise thought about pointing it out to him.
"Shut up," was what she said instead.
"I've been really fucking busy these last few days with this Wharf project. I'm literally driving home from work right now. Do you know what time it is, Belcher? I have other things going on in my life. Like wrapping up this stupid project with Fischoeder that I thought was going to get me that promotion. I didn't get it, by the way. The promotion."
Louise didn't say a word. She stood there in 2.0 feeling dumb and embarrassed, where she'd felt so vindicated moments before.
A few minutes passed.
"Louise? You still there?"
"Yeah."
"My offer still stands, ya know?
"Okay."
"You can come over tomorrow night. After you're done with the food truck. If you feel like gracing me with your presence." Logan thought his words would come out more harshly. He'd intended them to. Instead, he just sounded soft.
"Like, to your house?" Louise asked.
"Yeah. Why? You scared?" Logan teased.
"No."
"I'll make up a list of questions and we can go through some basic steps about forming a five year plan."
"Okay, Stalin."
"Okay, Smartass."
"Fuck off."
"Good night, Louise."
"It's morning, dipshit."
"Good night, Louise," Logan repeated and hung up.
After the next food patrol, Louise parked Bob's Burgers 2.0 in front of the walkway of house Logan had told her to stop at on New Year's.
It was after one in the morning, but the lights were still on shining through the windows.
She took the to-go box she'd prepared out of her passenger seat and locked the truck. She breathed in and exhaled. She walked up to the porch and pressed the doorbell.
Logan opened the door and stood in front of her in sweatpants and a collegiate sweatshirt. A small dog was tucked in his arm and a glass of wine in his hand. Louise looked him up and down.
Logan looked her up and down. Ears on.
"You just gonna stare, Four Ears, or are you gonna come in?"
"You look so...domestic. It's disgusting," Louise walked through the threshold. She pulled at her hat.
Ears off.
"I don't remember asking your opinion," he scoffed, as he walked toward the living room. Louise followed. She looked around. Clean lines and tasteful decor inside a spacious first floor.
"This place screams 'Cynthia.' It's about what I'd expect from a guy who lets his mother drag him to Mommy-Daughter seminars. "
"At least I don't live with my parents."
"Low blow," Louise said quietly.
They entered the living room. There were charts, tourist data, and demographics for the greater Seymour's Bay area all strewn across the coffee table. A laptop was open on one of the end tables. Some papers were scattered around on the big, white leather couch. Louise set her to-go box on the end table that was free of clutter. She set her Ears down beside the box.
"You brought me food? How thoughtful."
"It's not for you, Big Bush. It's my dinner."
"How dare I assume."
Louise looked back at Logan, then down at the animal under his arm, "What's his name?"
"What?"
"What's his name?" Louise said, nodding to the small dog. Logan's glass of wine, still obnoxiously in hand, was in close proximity to the dog. She'd seen the puppy lick toward the rim of the glass, but he wasn't quite able to reach it.
"His name's Weenus. Or Ween, for short."
"That's fucked up."
"He's a wiener dog. Makes perfect sense."
"Clearly," Louise said wryly.
Logan set his glass of wine down on the end table next to the to-go box, "You can hold him, if you want."
Louise held out her arms. Logan handed Ween over and Louise cradled the dog, "You're never getting him back." Ween tried to lick Louise's face. Logan felt a brief pang of tenderness at the scene. He shoved it away.
"He's microchipped, Belcher. I will find him."
"I had a fish for a while when I was a kid. I named him Shark, because I really wanted a pet shark instead. Got him for Christmas. He lived for about five years. He wasn't microchipped, though."
"You're depressing the shit out of me right now."
"Are we gonna get started, cause I have places to be," Louise said, still holding Ween as she made herself at home on the large couch.
Logan grimaced at his houseguest. Ween settled in Louise's lap and she reached over to the end table and grabbed her to-go box. She started eating her burger and looked at Logan like she was waiting for something.
He sat down on the couch and grabbed the papers behind him. He started asking Louise open ended questions about her business and her vision for the future and "what directions she was hoping to take" and "which scenario sounded better." The list was longer than Louise's current attention span.
"This is frickin' pointless," Louise said after an hour and a half of answering alternate universe scenarios.
"It has a purpose," Logan said, visibly annoyed with her.
"Is the purpose to bore me to death?"
"Sure, why not. Pass me my glass," Logan said, pointing to his long forgotten drink on the opposite end table.
Louise reached over, put the glass to her mouth and chugged what was left. She handed Logan the empty glass.
"Really?" he asked with an edge in his voice.
"I'm gonna need it if I'm going to get through the rest of this inquisition."
"You could have just asked," Logan mumbled as he got up off the couch and walked toward the kitchen. He emerged a few moments later with an extra glass in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other.
"Just opened it."
"That still doesn't seem like enough compensation for my suffering," Louise contributed.
"It's for my survival, not yours," Logan poured wine into both glasses.
He moved onto charts, asking Louise questions about what demographic she "wanted to target."
Another hour passed. A second bottle of wine was opened.
They stopped talking about marketing for a while.
Louise told Logan about how her self-perceived success hinged solely on this food truck. Why she'd worked at Wonder Wharf. How Bob's Burgers almost disappeared from Seymour's Bay the year she graduated high school. How she thought she'd wait to go back to school, but ended up putting herself through college a year later anyway. She talked about how some things just had sentimental value and meaning, even if she wasn't a sentimental person.
"You're sentimental. Why else would you hold onto those ratty things?" Logan asked, pointing to her Ears, still sitting on the end table.
"You're ratty."
"Is that the same hat?"
"No, I've had a few. But I'll always keep that first pair. Even if they don't fit anymore."
"Why do you wear the Ears?"
"I'll tell you that story when you earn it."
A third bottle of wine was opened. They'd slowly filled the space between them on the couch, until there was no space left to fill. Wine glasses were out of commission, as they passed the third bottle back and forth between themselves.
Logan told Louise about his time in college. How he learned what a sorry excuse for a person he was. How he sometimes blamed his parents for the way he was as a teenager. How he sometimes thought it wasn't entirely fair of him to place all the blame on his parents. How he'd grown up as a person. How he thought he could actually be considered a good person now. But he still did shitty things sometimes. He wasn't perfect, he told her. He talked about how hard he worked to prove to himself he didn't need his parent's money or their support to make a life for himself. In reality he was trying to throw his independant success in his father's face. Not that Tom cared about anyone but himself, anyway.
They'd stopped talking about marketing completely.
"Why are your parents such awful people?" Louise asked.
"When I figure out the answer, I'll let you know," Logan said.
Logan went quiet. Louise scratched Ween behind the ears.
"You're really good with him," Logan said.
"Better than you, I bet," she looked up at him with a grin.
Louise held eye contact for a second too long. Logan felt his heartbeat race into overdrive. He thought about leaning in toward her, but resisted the urge.
"Keep your eyes to yourself, Belcher," he said instead, flashing his trademark impish grin. His voice was weak and wanting.
Louise didn't push the butterflies in her stomach away this time. Didn't push away the warm feeling in her chest. Louise reached for Logan's sweatshirt and pulled him towards her. She put her mouth on his. Then pressed him down into the back of the couch.
It took a few moments for the shock to wear off. Logan responded fervently, sinking down until his head was pressed into the couch cushion as he kissed her. He was being straddled by his houseguest. He could have laughed from the sheer absurdity of it. It didn't make sense, the two of them. But it felt right and it felt honest and he'd be lying to himself if he said he hadn't been hoping for something like this to happen since the fireworks at Wonder Wharf. Maybe even since the night in Lucky Lizard when she'd apologized.
Logan pulled Louise down closer to him. Ween stood in front of the couch and barked. The little dog scampered off when he realized he was not going to recapture his place as the center of attention.
Louise pulled at the waist of Logan's pants. Logan broke the kiss.
"You sure?"
"Duh." Louise looked down at Logan. "Are you?"
"Duh," Logan said.
His clothes were on the floor after that.
He let her have her way with him.
It was the most complete he'd felt in a long time.
Ween was running around the living room barking. Logan's first thought was to get up and feed the dog. Then he felt the warm body asleep next to him. Skin on skin. His second thought was going back to sleep and letting the world wait for a little bit longer. He pulled Louise closer, readjusted the blanket he'd pulled off the back of the couch after earlier activities, and closed his eyes again.
Ween didn't stop barking.
The front door swung open. Footsteps. Logan's eyes flew open.
"Logan Berry Bush!"
He felt his heart stop. Louise shifted next to him, stirring from sleep.
"What are you doing here?" Logan's voice came out shrill.
"Is that Linda Belcher's daughter? Her young daughter?"
"Yeah, it's Linda Belcher's daughter," Louise shouted, she felt rage rising in her chest. She was so overcome with anger, it didn't occur to her to be embarrassed.
Cynthia covered her eyes and stormed out of the living room, shock and horror in her wake as she muttered angrily about her son's unsuitable lifestyle choices.
"Is this how you kick out your one night stands, you perverted fuck?" Louise asked.
"Louise?" His hair was tousled and tangled, his cheeks heating up with embarrassment.
"You get off on your mommy knowing about the chicks you fuck?" She broke away from him, jumping up from the couch.
"I swear I -"
"I knew I couldn't trust you!" Louise started throwing on her clothes as fast as she could.
"Please, just listen to me," Logan threw on his sweatpants and pulled his sweater over his head.
"She had to know I was here. My food truck is parked right out front."
"Please, don't-," Logan tried to grab her hand.
"Don't touch me!" Louise shouted, shoving her boots on without trying the laces. She grabbed her keys out of her jeans pocket and opened the front door. Ween began barking loudly from somewhere deeper in the house, confused by the uneasy sounds.
"We're not gonna talk about this?" Logan asked, walking through the door and following her down the walkway.
"I don't do talks!"
"You're only fighting with me so you can run away from the situation," Logan said weakly, trying to grasp for any reason he could to make her stay. Make her hear him out.
"This was it, wasn't it?" Louise stopped at the edge of the walkway and spun around. Her eyes were glassy. Her hair was a black frizzy cloud trailing down to her shoulders.
"What?" The morning air was just as cold as the feeling sinking down his spine. Confusion evident in his voice.
She gave a sickened smirk and rubbed the sleeve of her sweater against her eyes, "Your stupid revenge plan. This was it," she sniffed.
"I told you, I don't have stupid plan," Logan said, he sounded as defeated as he looked. He walked a few steps toward Louise. She didn't move, still wiping away tears.
"It worked. It really fucking worked," Louise said.
"You're not a one night stand," Logan said firmly.
"Right, cause you're just gonna pass me off to your mommy next," Louise accused acerbically.
"Louise, please just listen to-"
"No."
"I really like you. I promise I ha-"
"Go to Hell!" She slapped him hard on the cheek. Logan heard the smack and saw the look of pain on Louise's face as she pulled back her stinging hand. He didn't feel the slap.
Louise Belcher slapped for two reasons. Affection and unadulterated rage. Logan knew affection didn't look like that.
The door to the food truck slammed shut. The truck disappeared down the street, clanking the entire way. Logan stood there numbly, watching it all slip away.
He began to feel the sting of the slap forming on his cheek.
He walked slowly back into his house. Embarrassment setting in. Then the undercurrent of rage washed over.
"She's quite young for you," Cynthia commented, when Logan walked into the kitchen.
"Get out."
"Excuse me."
"I'm asking you to leave."
"Logan, don't be ridi-"
"I can understand why Dad wanted a divorce."
"Unbelievable. You're going to talk to your own mother like that?"
"Your fucking narcissism, barging into my fucking house, always guilting me into feeling sorry for you. You have no fucking boundaries!"
"Logan -"
"You saw the food truck out there."
"I did. What of it?"
"And you still came in anyway."
"You're my son. If I feel the need to intervene -"
"How about I intervene? I think I'll start with asking Dad some questions about what really happened between you guys."
"That's personal business. You have no right."
"But you have every right when it comes to me?" Logan saw the look in his mother's eyes change. She looked guilty? Regretful? Logan couldn't quite tell.
Cynthia put the spare keys on the kitchen counter when she left.
Logan knew he wouldn't be talking to his mother again for a while.
He was more than okay with that.
She parked the food truck in the alley and made the slow ascent up the stairs to the apartment. It was eight-thirty. Bob and Linda were in the kitchen. Louise could smell the freshly-brewed coffee.
She immediately went to the bathroom and started a blazing shower. She washed the night off herself. She scrubbed hard. She felt the dull pain north of her inner thighs. She felt sick. Every time the thought of his touch bubbled up, she felt tears prick up with it. When she thought about his touch, it made her wish she hadn't run away from him. She hated herself for wanting to be there with him.
She thought about how responsive he'd been to her. Letting her take control and taking the opportunity to occasionally tease her. Soft kisses. Audible sounds. Wanting whispers.
It felt right. Like she was supposed to be there. Like she could easily be there again.
She'd stayed the night, too. She hated to think about why she would let herself do something so careless and dumb.
He was a sick, fucked up mama's boy. Nothing but a grown-up bully. A wolf in expensive, designer sheep's clothing. He deserved the pain and humiliation she'd wrought with those pictures she'd taken. She should have ruined his life and sent them when she'd had the chance. She kept telling herself this, trying to drum up an ounce of vindication. She didn't feel justified and she didn't feel any better.
When she got out of the shower she was sobbing. She wanted to crawl into a hole. She hadn't sobbed like this since the Millie Frock incident in high school. She'd deny it to her grave that Logan Bush had had the opportunity twice in her life to make her cry. Once as a kid and once as an adult.
She limped off to her room. She got dressed and sat on the edge of her bed, trying to stop feeling. She laid down.
Her cell phone rang, a continuous plea for attention. Again. Again. Then stopped.
Louise slept until her alarm went off.
She went downstairs to start her shift at Bob's Burgers.
She pulled herself together long enough to be the sassy, cynical punk everyone knew and loved. If she'd just had one most humiliating experiences of her life, no one was the wiser.
She tugged at the waist of his pants. He broke the kiss.
"Are you sure?"
"Duh. Are you?"
"Duh."
His clothes were on the floor quickly after that.
She found herself staring. She got a full look at him. In the light, not on some poorly lit sidewalk, caught by surprise with his pants around his ankles. She commented on his improved grooming. She commented on a lot of things.
She let her eyes wander for a while. He thought it was nice to feel appreciated. Admired. Part of him felt like he was proving something, part of him just liked the look on her face.
"Take a picture. It'll last longer," he said jokingly.
She looked guilty after he said that. She wasn't looking at him anymore. He missed her wandering eyes. He felt more naked with her looking away than he had with her eyes on him.
The magic was quickly seeping out of the moment.
He moved toward her. He kissed her again, hard. She responded. More kissing.
Magic recovered.
Her hands were moving along his body. Kissing and groping.
There was inexperience in her movements.
There was a shared nervousness between the two of them.
His hands were under her shirt while she was stroking him.
Her clothes were on the floor eventually, too.
The first time there was some fumbling.
The second time they stopped being shy.
Afterward, they laid down on the couch. He kissed her on the forehead. She told him what a little bitch he was for doing that.
"I like it when you're nice to me," he said in a husky voice.
"You're so loud. You act like you've never been touched before in your sad, little life."
"Well, you've clearly never been touched before in your life," he snorted.
"That's not really any of your business," she said defensively.
"No, probably not. But I'm pretty observant."
"Don't get used to it. To me being nice like this," she threatened weakly.
"You know what I haven't gotten used to? The fact that you always kind of smell like grease," he said, subverting her doubtful threat.
"I work in a slop shop, shithead. What are you expecting? Roses and citrus?"
"You know that's a terrible combination, right?" he asked as he rested his head on a throw pillow. He wrapped an arm around her. "Damn, Belcher, you're gonna make me sleep on the couch?" he chuckled.
He waited for a snarky reply, but she'd already fallen asleep. He pulled her closer, then pulled the blanket off the back on the couch and draped it over them. He closed his eyes.
Logan kept playing it over and over again in his head. He'd spent the rest of the weekend thinking about it. He went to work on Monday, distracted and disgruntled.
He called her again for the first time since right after she drove off in a blaze of anger. She didn't answer. He left one voicemail, then he stopped calling altogether.
He told her he was sorry. He promised it didn't have anything to do with revenge, just that he really liked her. He also told her that when she left his house, she hadn't been wearing her Ears.
That Saturday night, when Louise went out to start 2.0, she noticed something was missing. She searched all over the food truck, she searched her room, she turned the apartment upside down. She wore a black beanie that night, instead. She did the rounds across town in her food truck. She was tired from all the pretending in front of her parents and Zeke. The pretending that everything was fine.
She left her phone in the drawer of her nightstand. She left it turned off. She didn't want to see or hear from anyone. She wasn't sure she even wanted to hear from Tina or Gene.
The new semester had started. Louise buried herself in her assignments. She buried herself in course work so much so, she started getting ahead of schedule.
Louise got her first grade of the semester back that Monday. She failed an assignment. She never failed. She had a future to get on track. She didn't half-ass her work.
She was pissed. It was the first spark of anything Louise had felt in days outside of numbness and sadness. It was the pilot light that lit the driving fire.
When Louise got home in the early hours of the morning, she tried to call Tina on the landline. In a moment of weakness, she'd thought about Zena's origin story and how Tina might know something about all the things Louise was feeling. How this almost matched Tina's experience almost beat for beat. Louise felt like a carbon copy.
Except Zeke really cared about Tina.
And Louise and her sister were two very different people.
And, to a degree, Tina had known what she was getting herself into and Louise had basically acted without thinking.
And Tina was overly sentimental and romantic. Louise wasn't.
The fact that she'd trusted someone enough and gotten close enough to them, that they were able to trick her made Louise angry at herself. She felt like a fool. She wasn't anybody's fool.
Louise was always one step ahead. How could she not have been one step ahead this time?
It went to voicemail.
Louise hung up. She didn't try to call her sister again.
Tuesday Louise's alarm went off. She pulled her alarm clock plug out of the wall. She went back to sleep. Why wake up for lying men and failing grades? An hour later Linda came up to check on her.
"You're late Miss Missy. You coming down to do your J-O-B?" Linda asked.
Louise pulled herself together and got dressed. She opened the door to her room. Linda was standing outside. She took a long look at her daughter.
"You look like Little King Trashmouth. Right before he kicked the bucket," Linda said. Louise's dark circles and greasy hair capturing her mother's attention. "When was the last time you showered?"
"This morning."
"Doesn't look like it," Linda said, touching a tress of her daughter's hair. Louise batted her mother's hand away.
"I did. I just didn't wash my hair. I usually wear a hat if it's bad. So you can't tell."
"Speaking of hats, where are your Ears?"
Louise looked past her mother, "I made a really big mistake."
"Are your Ears with the big mistake?"
Linda didn't ask any more questions. She didn't need to. Linda knew the implication of Louise's words.
Louise nodded in response to her mother's question. Linda hugged her daughter. They walked downstairs together. Once she stepped into Bob's Burgers, she commenced her performance as the immovable Louise Belcher.
After the dinner rush, it was just Zeke, Linda, and Louise in the restaurant. Louise was at the register, staring into the customer-less abyss of a dining area. The phone rang.
"Bob's Burgers: we grill it, we fry, we hope that you'll buy it," Louise recited the non-approved slogan.
"Louise? Are you the only one there?"
"Hold on, T. Mom went to check the mail and Zeke's downstairs. I'll go get him."
"Actually, I was calling to talk to you."
"Okay?"
"Your cell keeps going to voicemail."
"Yeah, it's um...on hiatus right now."
"I talked to Mom."
"Good for you."
"No, I talked to Mom."
"Yeah, you already said that, T."
"Is the huge mistake named Logan?"
"Fuck off."
"Louise, you're the one who tried to call me first."
"I butt dialed you."
"From the landline?"
"Apparently you aren't gullible enough to believe that?"
"I mostly wanted to see if you were okay."
"I'm fine."
"Mom told me that Logan came into the restaurant the other day. She said there was flirting."
"I was trying to drive him out. Mom has it twisted."
"You know what's going on Louise. You're just pretending to be blind."
"Well, you know a whole lot about pretending to be blind. Let me just walk down stairs and ask Zeke a little bit about that one."
Now she definitely wasn't going to tell Tina what had happened.
"I'll talk to you later, Louise," Tina sighed. She hung up before Louise could form a retort.
Louise stood there for a little bit, her face twisted in anger.
"Whoa, who pissed in yur Cheerios, Hot Rod?" Zeke asked when he came up from the walk-in.
Louise took a deep breath and looked at Zeke, "Don't worry about it."
Linda came into the restaurant a few moments later. A box under her arm and envelopes and coupons in her hand.
"Someone's got mail," Linda sing-songed. She set some thick envelopes on the counter in front of her daughter. "We got a coat rack, too. Upgrades." Linda said upgrades with a shake of her hips, like she was keeping to a beat.
Zeke moved from behind the counter to open the box.
"Tina just called and said she talked to you. You narc-ed!" Louise said to her mother.
"Oh, it was just girl talk. Everything is fine. Your sister would have figured it out soon enough."
"Does Dad know?"
"Of course not. Why would I tell your father?"
"For the same reason you shouldn't have blabbed to Tina."
"Fir what it's worth, I have no idea what yu'r talkin' about," Zeke said, pulling packing peanuts out of the box.
"Is it a human sized coat rack this time or do you have to squint to see it?" Louise asked acerbically, changing the subject. Her tone still showed her mother how unhappy the unsolicited exchange of information had made her.
Louise reached down for the mail and began to shuffle through the envelopes. All of them were from a return address to Second Horizons Halfway House. All of them were from a familiar blonde she-devil.
Louise threw the envelopes into the trash can.
She walked through the kitchen and slammed the door to the back alley shut behind her.
On Wednesday, Louise pulled her phone out of her nightstand, after an angry email from Harley about Louise's lack of response to all of her text messages. Louise didn't turn her phone on until the early hours of the morning and after she parked at home.
There were missed calls and voicemails.
Louise sat in the food truck and listened to all the voicemails. She listened to Logan's voicemail last.
On Thursday, just before midnight, the park was empty and Wonder Wharf wasn't looking much better.
Louise picked up her phone and hit the call button, pacing in the back of the truck. She was parked in the back alley behind the restaurant.
The answer came on the third ring, "Hello?"
"I want my Ears back."
"Okay."
"Bring them to the restaurant tomorrow after you get done with work."
"Okay," Logan said again, somberly.
Louise hung up before he could say anything else.
Louise didn't sleep much that morning. She hadn't slept much all week. But that morning, it was the worst and least she'd slept by far. She rose with a lump in her throat and a ball of lead in her stomach.
Louise threw on jeans and a sweater and went down to the restaurant two hours early. She started working as soon as she walked through the door, fueling herself entirely on sugared-up coffee. She hadn't tried to change the "Burger of the Day" to something offensive or silly all week.
Bob had taken notice, but he also knew his daughter. Louise would only say anything if she wanted to volunteer the information, and if she did she was very selective about who the information was shared with. Bob would respect his daughter's privacy until he felt otherwise.
He went along with Louise, pretending that everything was normal. Until he saw his daughter mindlessly listening to one of Teddy's stories as the handyman sat at the counter. Teddy was forgiving when Louise would tell him to "just shut up," which was more frequent than Bob would have liked.
It was a subtle thing, Louise not trying to avoid Teddy's droning on. Just nodding along with a very blase air as Teddy talked and talked.
Bob finally felt otherwise.
When Louise came back to the kitchen to wash dishes after a large party had left, Bob approached his daughter. "Is something, um, wrong? You're acting...weird."
"You really don't want to know."
Bob pinched the bridge of his nose and said, "I'm always here for you. Even when you're difficult. Or...going through...something difficult."
"I know, Dad. And you're about to find out just how difficult."
"Whatever it is, don't bring it into the restaurant."
"I can't make any promises, Dad."
Louise manned the cash register for the rest of the shift. Zeke came in mid-day and immediately got to work on the grill. Toward the dinner rush, Louise started to feel the lump in her throat grow.
The dinner rush came. No Logan, no Ears.
The dinner rush ended. No Ears, no Logan.
Teddy came back at dinner. Louise was an hour away from abandoning her post in favor of the food truck.
She felt wisps of anger and disappointment began to slowly creep in. Why had she been sad, nervous, and scared all day for a liar who couldn't be bothered to show up?
It was slowly crawling into evening. It had been dark outside for hours.
Headlights shone and then turned off in the direction of Wonder Wharf. A car shape could be seen outside of the storefront window. Someone tall stepped out of the car and into the streetlights. Logan stood on the sidewalk and leaned back against his car, bundled up in his bomber jacket.
Louise felt her heart drop into her stomach as she went numb.
Bob was looking through the service window. He grunted in disapproval at Logan's presence.
That's when it hit her. Her father had known the whole time. Maybe not all the details, but he knew enough. He had known that Logan Bush was the subject of the drama, from the moment he saw Logan talking to his daughter at the New Year's party.
Bob's behavior and the small comments he'd made about Louise showing up too early or too late for her shifts all made sense to her now. His difficulty earlier in the day of trying to approach her and get her to talk, without trying too hard to force the information out of her.
He was trying to get her to talk to him in his own subtle, Dad way.
"He looks so sad out there," Linda said, putting her hand over her heart.
"He looks pathetic," Louise said.
Bob saw the defeated, sorry look on Logan's face through the window, highlighted by the streetlights. The pink bunny ears clutched in his hand. He'd been standing out there for a few minutes now. Not a sign of someone who was trying to turn and run.
"I can't believe I'm saying this," Bob started, "but maybe you should go out there."
"No, I want to see if he's gonna give up," Louise said.
"I think you need to talk to him," Bob said. Not believing that the words were coming from his own mouth. Louise moved from her spot behind the counter, apron still on. With no jacket and no regard for the cold January weather, she walked out the door.
Louise was only going outside to prove a point to her father. To get her Ears back. Not because it was Logan. Not because she had a rollercoaster ride of emotions to sort through. Certainly not because she missed Pretty Boy Logan.
Louise approached Logan and stood a few feet away. She held out her hand for the hat. Logan handed the Ears over. She shoved them in her back pocket and didn't move. He didn't move either.
"Aren't you gonna put them on?" Logan asked, nervously.
"You'd like that, wouldn't you, you sick fuck?" Louise felt tears prick up. She was absolutely not going to cry in front of him again.
"I mean, it just took a long time to get them back to you. I figured you'd miss them."
Louise lifted her hand up and brought her open palm toward Logan's cheek. He gently reached up and grabbed her hand, bringing their arms back down. Louise tore her hand out of Logan's.
"Where's your mommy? Is she waiting for you to get home for bathtime?"
"Louise."
"You gonna kiss her on the mouth, too?" Louise felt a tear trickle down her check. She wiped it away with her sleeve.
"Louise, stop being such a jackass," Logan said evenly. Louise felt more tears. Her vision was getting blurry.
"Oh, keep saying sexy things like that. I can already see you, me, and your mom -"
"They're getting divorced!"
"What?" Louise blubbered. Had she heard him right? His parents?
The flood gates opened up. He had to bring back the stupid hat. He had to be there and bring back all the emotional baggage he'd caused. She was lying to herself, and she knew it. She was a wreck. A wreck that was shaking because of her forgone jacket.
She wasn't over what had happened with Logan. She wasn't over sleeping with him. She wasn't over the letters from Millie Frock that just seemed to keep coming and always during the worst moments. She wasn't over her mother blabbering her personal business to her sister. She certainly hadn't allowed herself time to process everything that happened because she kept pushing it away. But now Logan was staring her in the face and he wasn't getting in the car and driving away like she wanted him to. Now he wanted to share his own baggage, too?
There was so much she didn't want to face. So much she wanted to keep pushed away. She felt like she was exploding from the inside out and all she could do was stand there on the sidewalk and cry.
Louise's face was already pressed against the wool of a turtleneck by the time she realized she'd been smooshed against Logan, his jacket wrapped awkwardly around the both of them.
Louise was sobbing hard into Logan's turtleneck. She couldn't make herself move away. She missed his stupid closeness, his stupid scent, and the stupid butterflies he gave her. Logan stood still, letting Louise cry. Neither of them were paying attention to Linda and Teddy merging with the glass of the storefront window, faces pressed against it. Bob was behind the counter with Zeke. The Belcher parents and company making no attempt to hide their prying. Louise and Logan unaware that their every fighting word could be heard through the glass window by the onlookers in the restaurant.
"My parents are getting a divorce. Dad was having an affair. It's been really hard on Mom. She's been sticking her nose up my ass since. More than usual. I didn't know that was going to happen. Her just barging in like that. I promise," Logan said.
"I'm sorry," Louise mumbled into his shirt after a few long seconds.
"You're not the one my dad's having an affair with, right?"
"No, Stupid. Don't be...stupid," Louise said looking up at Logan.
"Then you don't have anything to apologize for, Stupid."
"I meant: Sorry for being such a twat."
"You're openly apologizing to me? Without giving me a hard time?" Logan ran his fingers through her hair, detangling it. Louise felt that electric tingle travel up her spine. "I might have to pretend I didn't hear you say that. Save you the embarrassment."
"Don't get used to it. I'm only going to say it once."
"I missed you. But I'm only going to say that once. Consider it a show of solidarity," Logan said.
"I didn't miss you," Louise said.
"Yeah, sure you didn't," he pulled her a little closer.
It went quiet.
"I don't think my mom and I are going to be talking for a little bit," Logan said to fill the silence.
"Fuck you. You're not going to make me out to be one of those women who makes you choose between their mother or them," Louise pulled away from him, abandoning the warmth of his jacket.
"That's not what this is and I think you know that. She needs time to get her shit together. I do, too. I was just hoping you'd let me be near you while I get my shit together."
"I don't know why you're telling me. I don't care. If you don't have your shit together, it isn't my problem."
"I think you do care. Deep, deep down."
"No, I don't. I think you're just a giant momma's boy."
"Look, my parents did a pretty pathetic job at raising me, but my mom tried. She tries to be there for me. I spend so much time with her now because I missed out on a lot of that when I was growing up. And I was always so jealous of you and your family when we were kids."
"You're full of it," Louise said. She never thought of teenage Logan Bush as jealous. Just vicious. Did jealous explain why he'd been so vile when they were growing up?
"That time at Lasers and Gentleman when your mom teamed up with you at laser tag and apologized to you. My mom spent the whole time yelling at me for ruining that stupid seminar. Or how your dad let you fire me and chose you over his stupid plot at the community garden. My dad would never have done that for me," Logan swallowed. It felt good to say it out loud, but it was hard to say, too. "That time you dropped that gross-ass cantaloupe on me. Your brother let me Reverse Norwegian Stink Hold him instead of you. I don't have anyone who would have done that for me."
"Keep talking. I like seeing you grovel."
"Your parents supported you. You're freaking wild, but you can still be yourself around them. My mom's been trying to change me my whole fucking life, even though she thinks her heart is in the right place. Do you realize how lucky you are?"
"Believe me, I already know."
"My family is still my family. I love them no matter how shitty they are."
"I never said I loved my family."
"I'm calling your bluff, Belcher, you totally do. And I'm calling your bluff on thinking I got you into bed as a revenge plot."
"Whatever."
"I wasn't the one who initiated," Logan said. "Just to put this whole thing into perspective."
"Blaming me? That's cute. In all of this shit that went down, I didn't hear you whining once being a cherry popper."
There, she said it. They hadn't addressed it. Louise wasn't sure she wanted to. What was done was done, anyway. It didn't seem to be scaring Logan away.
"You don't have to be so crass," Logan said. She could see a flush forming on his face in the dim light of the street lamps.
"You think that was me being crass? What are you? New here?"
"If I was trying to get back at you, this would have been good enough, don't you think? I wouldn't be putting all this stupid effort in if I was toying with you. I meant it when I said I lik-"
"I know. Now please stop talking. I'm sick of all this emotional crap. You're being needy," Louise smiled at Logan. She was shaking again in the cold. Her face still wet and streaky with undried tears.
"Get over here, dummy," Logan said, wrapping her up in his jacket again.
"This doesn't mean anything, by the way," Louise muttered into his turtleneck, her cheek shoved up against the wet spot her tears had created on his shirt.
"You're so full of shit."
"Don't think this means I totally forgive you."
"Wow, bold coming from you. You're the one who accused me of all sorts of stuff. You owe me so many apologies, Belcher."
"I don't know what the word 'apology' means."
"Well, we still have a lot of shit to talk about. Including apologies."
They stayed like that a while.
Louise eventually broke apart from Logan.
"I have a food truck to get ready."
Louise looked over at the restaurant. She made eye contact with her staring mother. Teddy stupidly waved at Louise. She realized at that moment that her family had witnessed the whole scene and likely heard it, too. Maybe if she stood still, the ground would swallow her up and she wouldn't have to face them when she went back inside.
"Your family is so weird," Logan muttered as he waved back to Teddy.
After Logan had driven away, Louise stood outside and away from her family for as long as she could handle the cold. When she couldn't take it anymore, she finally walked back inside.
Bob had the decency to hide himself in the back. Linda and Zeke were huddled around the landline fielding their report to HQ.
"Louise-y, ya got some 'splainin' ta do," Zeke sang as he held up the phone.
"You're seriously using the restaurant phone for personal shit?" she asked.
"Language, Missy," Linda said.
"Bob's Burgers: we grill it, we fry, we hope that you'll buy it," Louise recited as she took the phone.
"Oh my god! Logan Bush? Really?! Tell me everything!" Gene's voice burst through the phone.