Chapter Thirteen: "Will You Be Mine, Kale-Mine?" Burger:
"I want your wedding to be better than mine," Gene said to Tina. "But not more fabulous."
"You shouldn't mess with tradition. You'll jinx it," Louise said to her mother and sister one Sunday morning in early May, back turned to her family while making a pot of coffee.
"What do you mean 'jinx it?' " Tina asked nervously.
"Don't listen to your sister. She's being a Nelly, a little Negative Nelly. You're gonna want pretty tablecloths," Linda said to her oldest daughter.
Louise craned her neck to look at the catalogs Linda and Tina had spread across the kitchen table. Pages torn out, ideas circled in Sharpie, more pages dog-eared. Louise mused to herself about who was going to pay for all the fancy wedding junk.
"Good Belchers get married at City Hall," the younger sister "tsked" as she overtly poured a shot of whiskey into her coffee, a celebration of the finished semester.
"Someone's getting home late," Gene said to Louise, not a trace of subtlety in his voice.
"I don't know what you're implying," Louise responded, back still turned to the wedding planning craze at the Belcher's kitchen table.
"Does his name start with Logan?" Gene prodded.
"Who now?" Louise brushed off.
"I saw flowers by the front door when I came in this morning. They had your name on the tag," Gene sang.
"Oooh," Linda said.
"They're not from Logan. He knows better. I'd stuff them up his nostrils."
"What kind of flowers?" Linda asked. "We need ideas for centerpieces."
"Mom!" Tina scolded, trying to reel Linda's attention back in.
"What? One of you kids deserves a nice wedding. Gene couldn't wait and Louise is never getting married," Linda waved her hand at Louise.
"What makes you say that?" Louise asked, feigning sincerity.
"You literally said the night I got engaged that you were never getting married," Tina said.
"Details, details," Louise said dismissively as she blew on her liquor laced coffee. "So what do we have here anyway?" Louise sat down at the table with her siblings and mother.
"What about this one?" Linda pointed to a yellow floral tablecloth.
"Hate it!" the sisters said in unison. Tina and Louise looked at each other and smiled. Maybe this wedding planning thing would actually be kind of fun, after all. Gene looked at the picture of the tablecloth like he'd never be so offended by anything in his life.
Gene had been coming to the apartment nearly everyday, leaving Alex at the costume shop to fend for himself. Everytime Gene entered the apartment, he had on a different tuxedo or suit. Some suits were loud and colorful with extreme details, some were more muted. Gene was less than subtle about his desire to supply attire for the wedding party.
"It's going to be a small wedding, Gene. I don't think me and Zeke are going to need all of this stuff. What I really need are song suggestions." Tina told her brother.
"You just haven't found the right outfit yet. You'll know the one. It'll speak to you. Outfits are more memorable than songs, anyway," Gene declared. Today he was sporting a gold and purple three piece monstrosity. A monstrosity he was somehow pulling off. Louise told him he looked like Mardi Gras threw up on him. Gene told his sister the nineties called and wanted their flannel back.
"We're not going to have that many people in the wedding," Tina said, attempting to extinguish the impending argument.
"Oh, I still love the suit. Give me a twirl," Linda commanded. Gene spun around and struck a pose.
"I'm the maid of honor and if you want it to stay that way, I wear whatever I want," Louise said, uncompromisingly.
"Well I'm going downstairs," Gene said, dramatically. "If I can't convince you, then I'll get Zeke to listen to me."
"Zeke's working at the Yacht Club today," Tina shouted at her brother who was making his way down the stairs.
"Then I'm going to annoy Dad," Gene said, slamming the apartment door behind him.
"Zeke's been working at the Yacht Club a lot more lately," Linda nudged.
"Yeah, it's almost like he sees his life going somewhere, right? Somewhere that's not this old slop shop," Louise contributed in a cheeky tone.
"I have some news," Tina said.
"News! T, you can't just say that. People will start assuming things," Louise taunted.
"I can't? What kind of things?" Tina asked, wide eyed.
"Louise, stop teasing your sister," Linda said.
"I got a new job," Tina announced, her voice monotone, but the excitement displayed in her eyes.
"My babies. My grown babies, still growing!" Linda hugged her eldest child.
"Congrats, T. Where?" Louise high-fived her sister, though Tina's return was weak.
"Horsing Around Riding Center. They're doing a summer camp. It's kinda of seasonal for now. But they said they're looking for people to take on full year."
"They'd be stupid not to hire you full time," Linda said, still smothering Tina in a hug.
"No more Yacht Club? Good riddance. I didn't know you had it in you." Louise said. Before she could lean back into her chair she was forcibly sucked into the Menstruation Nation huddle by her mother, with no prospect of escape. "I don't do hugs!"
Louise updated her Chowster location and piggy backed off of the weak WiFi of the Glencrest Yacht Club. Louise stuck closer to the Wharf in the earlier hours of her food truck operations. More customers, more cash, more places she could conveniently "borrow" WiFi.
Louise had suffered a short shift in the restaurant with the prequel to work being a full morning of wedding planning for Tina, in which absolutely nothing was decided or accomplished.
The most Louise had contributed to the wedding planning was a text to Tina after she had arrived on location in front of the Yacht Club.
Louise: First dance: Gene's original composition, "Silent Love". (Delivered 10:33pm)
Tina: No. Zeke and I actually like each other, remember? (Delivered 10:45pm)
"Her loss," Louise muttered to herself.
Louise shuffled through a semester's worth of emails deciding what was worth keeping and what assignments she could save and make slight modifications to turn in as brand new for the fall semester. She deleted and deleted until she came to an email address she didn't recognize.
She opened the email, what was so obviously a prank, right? The text read:
"I keep leaving you flowers and you keep ignoring them. I spend so much time picking them out. You're so mean. You've always just been so mean. And you never answer my letters..."
Louise read the email a few times, and ignored the cold, sinking pit she felt in her stomach. She stared at the screen of her laptop, she zoned out trying to keep the cold, chilling pit in her stomach from rising up into her throat. She forwarded the email to Logan and to her parents. For value of proof? To figure out who was pranking her? She didn't really know why, but it seemed like the most logical thing at the moment.
"Hey, Bunny Girl! Can I get some damn service over here?" someone shouted through the window.
At five the next morning, Logan was standing in his kitchen with the coffee pot on and an omelette cooking on the stove. A knock thundered at his front door. Ween barked in response. Logan opened the front door and Louise barged into his house, charging through the door like she was on a mission. She had her Ears on.
"You have a key. You can let yourself in," Logan said, shutting the door behind her.
"Do you think I actually carry that thing around with me?"
"That was kind of the idea."
"Did you check your email?"
"No. Should I?"
Louise breezed past him and walked around the first floor until she located his laptop, closed on the kitchen table. She opened it and went to his email.
"You know you have food burning in here?" Louise shouted at him.
"You receive full blame for anything bad happening in this kitchen," Logan told her as he raced back to the stove to plate the omelette. Louise came up behind him and took the plate off the counter.
"Look at this," Louise demanded.
"That's not for you," Logan said, eyeing the omelette and ignoring Louise's order.
"Cry me a river. You have all the shit out, make yourself another one. Plus, this one's burnt."
"There's Canadian bacon in that omelette."
"Canada is a horrible place," Louise stated plainly, but bit into the omelette anyway.
"You know, poutine is Canadian, right?" he teased. He began putting everything together to make himself another omelette.
"Shut your whore mouth and get over here," Louise said.
Logan sat down next to Louise at the table and read the emails she'd pulled up on his browser:
"I keep leaving you flowers and you keep ignoring them. I spend so much time picking them out. You're so mean. You've always just been so mean. And you never answer my letters…"
"I know how you really feel. You can't deny what's in your heart."
"And you're blaming me? That sounds nothing like me," Logan said
"I'm not blaming you. Just - do you see this shit?" Louise asked defensively.
"Yeah. You look pretty freaked out."
"Freaked out? You're fucking kidding me? I'm annoyed."
"Call it what you want, but you look pretty scared to me, Four Ears."
"I'm not scared."
"Okay. Fine, You're not scared, but maybe I am."
Louise didn't say anything after that. She just shoveled half of the pilfered omelette in her mouth. Logan got up and made himself another omelette and poured two cups of coffee. He plated the omelette and sat back down next to Louise. She was sitting with her arms crossed, dog in her lap and staring off into space at the laptop. The screen was black. Logan closed the laptop and pushed it to the side. He set a cup of coffee in front of her.
"Why're you up right now, anyway? Shouldn't you be asleep."
"I couldn't sleep much," Louise admitted.
"So you come over here at five in the fucking morning and bother me with your drama? You're such a shithead," Logan smiled at her and put an arm around her shoulders.
"Shut up," Louise said, scooting closer to Logan, the tip of one of her pink Ears just shy of poking him in the eye.
"You could always send them emails back. Start harassing them," Logan suggested.
"That's a terrible idea," Louise reached for her cup of coffee. Logan took his arm off of Louise's shoulders and took a bite of his omelette.
"I'm kind of worried about this," Logan admitted. "Maybe we should call someone or something?"
"I already talked to the police. They said 'they'd keep me updated and that it was probably a prank. Nothing to worry about.' " Louise said in a mocking voice.
"Sounds like you had a busy night. You already talked to the police. You were out there by yourself. Didn't think about calling me or your parents to come with you," Logan said with an edge in his voice.
"Getting mad at me? That's cute," Louise said, looking down at the dog in her lap.
"I'm not mad at you. I'm freaked out. I'm worried about you. There's a difference."
"You're also annoying me, right now."
"How much is it going to take for you to admit you're scared and just being a jerk because of it?" Logan asked, clearing off the table and loading the dishwasher.
"You never talking again, maybe."
"Sorry. Try again," Logan said filling up a travel mug with the rest of the contents of the coffee pot. He tightened his tie and buttoned his sports coat.
"You look like a dweeb."
"At least I'm not actually a dweeb. Like you," Logan said, picking Ween up to let him outside.
"You're going to work?"
"Looks like it, huh?"
"Corporate Kiss-Ass," Louise scoffed.
"You can stay here if you want. I'm not kicking you out."
"No. I'd rather not be alone right now."
"Okay. Well I'm going to need you to move the food truck so I can get my car out of the driveway," Logan paused, as if thinking better of the situation. "Or, I don't have to go to work. I can call in sick. Whatever you want."
"I walked."
"You're fucking kidding me, Louise, really? Threatening emails and weird stalker shit and you just walk around town like it's not a big deal?"
"Don't get your huge bush all tangled in a knot over it. It's only, like, two miles."
"Right, I'm not worried or anything. This isn't a problem," Logan sneered. Louise proudly displayed her middle finger at Logan. Logan blew her a sarcastic kiss in response.
When he let Ween back in, Logan put a leash on the dog and handed him to Louise.
"What's this all about?"
"You don't want to be alone, right."
"You're seriously letting me take him."
"Only for the day. Or I don't have to go to work at all. You could get some sleep and then we could go back to the police. I can call Linda or something, if you want."
"No. Go to work. I don't really know what I'm going to do yet."
"You're sure? Cause I'm not so sure I'm okay with it."
"Just go to fucking work, okay?"
"You know what? No."
"Fine. Just shut up about it, okay?"
"Okay," he sighed.
Logan drove Louise back to Bob's Burgers and called in sick to work on the way.
"You should tell your parents about the whole thing, maybe?" Logan suggested again once he was off the phone.
"Not a chance."
"I guess I'll be the responsible adult then. If you don't say anything, I will."
"Oh, you're such a fucking hero."
"I'm glad you think so," Logan said, edge returning to his voice as he pulled up to the curb.
As Louise walked through the front door to the apartment, she could smell coffee already brewing. It was a little early for her parents to be up, she thought, but this was maybe the most normal thing to happen in the last twelve hours. Louise walked into the kitchen holding Ween in her arms. Logan stayed in the living room, obeying Louise's direct order to do so.
"What's with the dog," Bob asked his daughter, looking up from the newspaper.
"Nothing," Louise said.
"This isn't a permanent thing?" Bob asked.
"It's a real dog, Dad. Real animals are pretty permanent."
"The dog's not staying here."
"Not forever."
"You didn't steal someone's pet, did you?"
"His name is Weenus. He belongs to Pretty Boy Logan."
"That's a terrible name for a dog."
"I know," Louise said as she sat down. She put Ween on the kitchen table.
"Oh my God," Bob said in protest, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"We've had a cow, a guy who thought he was a mannequin, and that weird baby-sitter, Jen, in this apartment. You're worried about a dog on the kitchen table?"
Bob opened his mouth to fire off a lecture to his youngest child, but stopped himself when he got a good look at her. "Have you slept at all?"
"Not really."
"You should."
"Hmmm," was Louise's only response.
"Something's wrong?" Bob assessed.
"Yes, yes there is."
"Do you want to...talk about it?" Bob asked awkwardly, knowing his youngest daughter was rare to talk about feelings and doubly rare to elaborate on them. "This doesn't have to do with that boy does it?" Bob asked, nodding to the tiny dog sitting on the table.
"Yes, it does. Logan Bush drugged me and married me off to a cult. Now I must carry around this dog as an idol of worship. Also, you owe Pretty Boy Logan a dowry."
"Well, I guess I don't need to pay you to work at the restaurant anymore, then."
"Dad, I still need money. How else am I going to afford to feed this dog?"
"What actually happened, Louise?"
Louise sat there for a little bit and then finally told Bob about the emails, the mysterious the occasional flower bouquet. How it was all very reminiscent of Millie and how that made it even worse. How she talked to the police. How they weren't much help. How Logan was sitting in their living room and how he didn't really know what to do. How she didn't really know what to do, either.
Bob sat with his daughter, trying not to admit that he, too, didn't know what to do.
Louise had been harassed before. Being a female ensured that. Being a female that marched to the beat of her own drum ensured that even more.
In high school it was always Millie. After high school it was always some gross, scuzzy guy slumming it by the wharf. Old, young, clean, or gross. It didn't matter. Someone saw her, decided she was cute and tiny and naive with her pink Ears, and they descended. Louise wasn't a stranger to landing a punch to someone's nose or calling Wonder Wharf security.
Louise even had people make comments to her while inside the safety of 2.0, with it's small service window and double locked doors.
She would get told she was cute. She would get told she was ugly. She had dumb, drunk Logans pissing on the tire of her truck. She's even had one guy try to grab her hand when she reached down to take the cash he was paying for a burger with.
All of these things were unappreciated. All of them were skeevy. But all of them were very obvious and present. What did you do when the skeevy threat was menacing and immaterial?
Louise spent no time in the food truck and a lot more time in the restaurant over the following days.
Louise also spent a lot more time with Logan. Logan tried to get her to talk about it. Louise wouldn't. Logan dropped the subject. Louise got mad at him for dropping the subject. Mindless sex and continued talk about marketing strategy distracted from the unspoken reality, but the film of tension was still present between them.
Another package addressed to Louise showed up at the Belcher's front door that Thursday. It was an incredibly similar scrapbook to the pink, sparkly one Millie had snuck into her backpack sophomore year of high school. Louise was on the phone with Sergeant Bosco again. Bob and Louise were on the phone with Sergeant Bosco again. Logan and Louise were on the phone with Sergeant Bosco again.
Louise was told she could come down to the station and make another statement. She so did so with Bob, Linda, and Logan in tow. They brought the package. It was collected as evidence. They were all told the same things again: "Without sufficient evidence, no claims of stalking could be substantiated, and therefore no charges can be pressed. We're continuing to investigate."
What they heard was, "We don't want to help."
On a Saturday, post lunch rush, Logan strolled into Bob's Burgers dressed like he was going to a job interview. He sat himself at the counter. No one was manning the dining area. There was a young couple in the front booth and a figure in a grey hoodie, carefully appraising the menu and sitting in the far back of the restaurant.
"Four Ears," Logan's voice boomed.
Louise poked her head into view through the service window. No Ears, Logan noted. The chalkboard next to the service window read, "Save the Last Dasheen for Me Burger."
Louise was silently cursing Aunt Gayle and her "emergency" that pulled Bob and Linda away from the restaurant. They called Zeke and "he was on his way." Louise had been assured. Bob insisted on staying with his daughter in such a fragile time. Louise insisted that he should go. Whatever situation Gayle was "stuck in," it sounded like Linda couldn't do the job on her own. It took twenty minutes of arguing and another three phone calls from Gayle before Bob relented. Louise texted Logan and told him to come to the restaurant.
"Where's my burger?"
"Oh, so you're just expecting to come in here and get served on a silver platter?"
"Duh."
"What the fuck do you want?" Louise asked, holding up a small notepad.
"What's the most difficult and time consuming thing for you to make? That's what I want."
"You're getting a cheeseburger.".
"Fine. Cheeseburger. What are you doing tonight?"
"Not you," Louise rolled her eyes.
"Really? But, my Ween misses you so much."
"You think you're so witty?"
"I do."
Louise scoffed at him and disappeared into the kitchen.
Logan scrolled through his phone. Movement caught his eye. Grey Hoodie was staring Logan down, looking at him over the menu.
"Hey, buddy! Wanna take a fucking picture?" Logan called over. Grey Hoodie's eyes retreated behind the menu.
Logan went back to scrolling on his phone. Louise came out with a round serving tray. She dumped a plate with a cheeseburger and fries carelessly in front of Logan.
"Where's my drink?" he asked playfully.
"There's a faucet in the bathroom, go stick your head under it," Louise flashed Logan a quick smirk, then walked from behind the counter into the dining area. She served the table with the young couple and then moved on to take Grey Hoodie's order.
There was a thud, as the serving platter felt to the floor. A jolt. Quick movements.
"Get the fuck out!" Louise's voice was shrill and loud, the words almost indiscernible. She felt a current of fear in her chest. Logan spun around on the stool, turning to face Louise and Grey Hoodie. Grey Hoodie's hood was down revealing curly blonde hair and a threatening smile.
"Don't be so mean, Louie Lou. I wanted to come and see you. Especially since you've been ignoring all my letters," Millie Frock said, pouting.
"Get the fuck away from me, Millie!" Louise's voice boomed. She reached down and picked up the serving platter. She slammed it down on the table in front of Millie, just missing Millie's fingers. Louise raised her hand, forming it into a fist and swung. Millie skidded back in the booth, bracing herself against the wall.
"That wasn't nice!" Millie squealed.
Logan was on his feet before he realized what he was doing. He grabbed Louise by both of her arms and pulled her back toward the counter and away from Millie.
"Let go of me!" she shouted at Logan, kicking as he pulled her away from the booth.
"Louise, stop it," Logan said evenly. Louise continued to struggle against Logan's grip. Trying to lunge at Millie.
"Let go of her, you creep!" Millie screamed at Logan.
"Listen, Mildew or whatever the fuck your name is, get the fuck out before I start throwing punches!" Logan shouted at Millie.
One of the women seated at the front of the restaurant had her cellphone out, already calmly speaking into it. The other woman got up from the booth, but remained at distance. The police were being called, she said.
Millie lunged past the booth and grabbed the urn of sweet tea by the door of the bathroom. She threw it hard in Louise's direction. The urn hit the ground with a crash. Liquid pooling over Logan and Louise's shoes. Millie dashed out the restaurant, bell ringing overhead as she sprinted through the door and across the street.
Logan let go of his grip on Louise. Louise turned around and reached up to slap him, launching her hand back. Logan reached up and brought her hand down. Louise yanked her hand out of Logan's. Louise spun around to look at the other two women in the restaurant. One was still on her phone with the police.
"I-I'll comp your meal," Louise offered, trying to regain her composure.
"You're totally fine, girl," she said. Then added, "Is he bothering you?" She was pointing right at Logan.
"No. He- he's f-fine," Louise said.
Logan called Bob. Bob said he was on his way. Louise slipped into the kitchen while Logan was on the phone with Bob. Logan went into the kitchen. Louise came back out of the kitchen. Logan followed.
"Stop!" Louise shouted.
Logan backed up. He stepped toward the booths, leaving the counter between himself and Louise. He could see the fear and adrenaline in her eyes. She looked like she was ready to swing at him, too.
When Louise left the expanse of the counter between herself and Logan, she felt a little safer. She could see the woman who had asked her if she was okay, standing by the door. Her arms were crossed and she was eyeing Logan carefully.
"I just- are you okay?" Logan asked Louise.
"I'm - I'm fine."
"I'm sorry I grabbed you. I just- I didn't know what else to do. I didn't want you getting hurt."
"I know," Louise said. She didn't look at him when she said it. She was shaking a little. Logan wanted to go behind the counter and hold her. He also knew it would be a terrible idea and Louise wouldn't want him touching her.
"I'm here, okay. I'm right here," he said instead, maintaining the distance.
"I know," she said again, still not looking at him.
Sergeant Bosco and Officer Julia pulled up at the restaurant moments later, the cruiser parked at the curb. Officer Julia slowly walked over to Louise and guided her to the counter to sit down. Bob and Zeke poured into the restaurant at the same time.
"What in Sam Hill happened here?" Zeke asked. He was met with silence and a glare from his future sister-in-law. Zeke kept his mouth shut after that.
Bob sat down next to Louise on the opposite side of Officer Julia. Louise hugged her father and didn't let go for a long time.
Sergeant Bosco pulled everyone into the kitchen individually to be interviewed, starting with the couple that called the incident in. More police rolled in, assessing the scene. When Linda came dashing down the street after a phone call from Zeke, the police almost didn't let her into the restaurant.
Sergeant Bosco pulled Logan into the kitchen to give his statement.
After, he pulled Louise into the kitchen.
"Is she okay?" Logan asked Bob, standing beside the patriarch as they watched Louise walk into the kitchen.
"She's doing...okay," Bob said, not offering much more than that.
"Do you -"
"Louise wants you to leave," Bob said forcefully, cutting Logan off.
"Seriously?" Logan asked, defeat permeating his tone.
"Don't take it personally. She'll talk to you when she's ready," Bob said, crossing his arms.
"What if the police have more questions?" Logan asked, grasping weakly.
"We'll call you if we have any questions. That's why we ask for your contact info at the beginning of the interview," Officer Julia said dispassionately, arms crossed. She was standing in front of the bathroom door, ensuring a full and clear view of the dining area.
"Okay, well, tell her I -" Logan started.
"Just go, man. And try not ta track sweet tea all over the floor on yur way out," Zeke said, mop and bucket full of water in front of him, waiting to wipe down the floor.
Logan walked out of Bob's Burgers. His heart dropping into his stomach and a wave of nausea rolling in.
Louise parked her parents' car in the driveway behind Logan's shiny, fancy car. The lights in the house were still on, even at midnight. She knocked loudly on the door and heard Ween barking from somewhere inside the house. She let herself in with the key she'd dug out of one of her junk drawers.
"Logan!?" Louise shouted, closing the door behind her.
"Office!" came a muffled shout from upstairs.
Ween came bounding down the stairs toward her. Louise picked him up with the hand that wasn't holding a grease saturated paper bag and climbed the stairs. She walked into one of the spare bedrooms that served as Logan's rarely used office.
Logan was in pajamas and sitting at his desk going over documents.
"This is depressing. I see why you never come in here," Louise said, glancing around the room. Big desk, swivel chair, filing cabinets. The only remotely cozy aspect of the room was a recliner next to a floor lamp and bookshelves.
"Change of scenery," Logan said, still staring down at his files.
"Surprised you're awake," Louise commented, still standing close to the door.
"Well, I've gotten used to staying up this late on Saturday. Thanks to a certain someone." Logan said, swiveling around to look at Louise.
"Certain someone, huh?"
"Yeah, an annoying, pint-sized someone."
"Well, I know an annoying someone who didn't even try and call me."
"I did try. A few times. But the way you had Bob kick me out earlier, I figured you couldn't be bothered with me."
"I may not have bothered to check my phone," Louise admitted.
"Anyway, if you wanted to see me, I figured you'd show up eventually. That's how this goes, isn't it."
"That's pretty cocky of you. Assuming I care enough to just show up," Louise approached the desk and set the greasy bag next to some papers.
Logan looked at the bag then over to and pink Ears-less Louise and cracked a smile, "You're apologizing? That's pathetic. It's weak, really."
"It's not an apology," Louise said, staring down at Ween, who was licking the hand she'd been carrying the greasy bag in.
"Right, right."
"Look, there's some back story to this whole thing, and I don't really like talking about it. I, um," Louise rubbed the back of her neck with the hand not holding the dog. She looked at the rug on the floor. Her words were meant for Logan, but she knew if she looked at him, she might not be able to get those words out.
"I didn't ask you to talk about anything," Logan said softly.
"I-I know. I just feel like...like I owe you an explanation for...basically kicking you out," Louise was still staring at the floor.
"Well, I owe you an apology, too. I swooped in without thinking and I think it fucked you up a little."
"It wasn't you. I promise."
"It felt like it was," he said, also staring at the spot on the rug.
"It wasn't you," she repeated.
"Okay, so what's the deal with Mildew?" he asked after a silence settled over the room.
Louise took a deep breath and sat down on the recliner, placing the small dog in her lap. Logan, still sitting in the swivel chair, grabbed the to-go bag and pushed himself back from the desk and over to the recliner in one swift motion. He took the burger out of the grease bag and began chewing loudly in Louise's ear. Louise's face scrunched up in response to the disgusting sound. Logan began to make loud moaning noises as he devoured the next bite. Louise burst out laughing.
"You're so dumb and gross," she said.
"Actually, just dumb."
"You are really, really dumb. So dumb you're almost kind of smart."
"Speaking of dumb, I'm sorry I left. I'm just realizing how fucked up that might have been."
" No, I'm glad that you did. I needed to be alone. I would have forced you out anyway. I might have kicked your ass. And if I didn't, Zeke would have."
"If we got into a fight, you'd probably win. Just based on sheer anger alone," Logan said, recalling the time at Wonder Wharf when he'd thrown popcorn at her and she had seemed more than prepared to punch his lights out.
"I'm more clever than you are, so I'm factoring that in. I'd sabotage the shit out of you, too."
"Sabotage. We could sabotage Mildew. If we put our heads together, we could probably even break her spirit," Logan said, getting a little too excited over the prospect. Louise realized then maybe one of the reasons she liked Pretty Boy Logan so much was because he was still a mischievous, prankster at heart. Just like she was.
Some habits were hard to break, even in adulthood.
"No, the less she pays attention to me and comes near me, the better."
"Okay, Belcher, I'll hold off for now, but I still have a whole TPing idea I never got to use." Logan said. He crumpled us the paper bag and launched it into the trash can, barely making the shot.
"They found her hiding out in that stupid stationary store near the restaurant. She was on parole apparently. Domestic violence charges," Louise volunteered.
"Did you press charges? I hope you fucking pressed charges," Logan said, standing up from the swivel chair and pushing his way onto the recliner, forcing more space than there really was. Louise moved over and Ween barked at the sudden disturbance.
"Yeah, I did. But I bet nothing's gonna come from it until next year anyway."
"Well, I feel ten times better knowing Mildew isn't roaming the streets. "
"Oh, you're worried? What about me? I have weeks worth of lost profits from hiding inside like a scared little baby and not taking out my stupid food truck."
"Yeah, but you're an unharmed, scared little baby. Who's stupidly worried about money more than personal safety."
"All this concern is gonna make me vomit all over your floor."
"You vomit, you're cleaning it up."
"The dog'll get it."
"That is so fucking disgusting," Logan's face scrunched up.
"Whatever, I'm okay, You're okay. Everyone is happy, whatever," Louise waved her hand as if to dismiss all the events leading up to the present moment.
"But are you really okay?"
"I guess. I think she's less concerned about me and more concerned about her ex-girlfriend. Plus, I have a restraining order now."
"You should have had one against her a long time ago, it sounds like."
"A piece of paper doesn't protect anyone from a psycho, but thanks Captain Obvious," Louise said harshly.
"No, but it puts an end to creepy letters and emails," Logan countered.
"So does the fact that she's behind bars again. Well, except for letters," Louise looked over at Logan.
"Letters? You should have already had a restraining order."
She looked down at the floor again. She opened her mouth then closed it again. Logan sat and waited for her to say what she needed to say.
Louise told Logan about her history with Millie Frock. Trapping her and her friends in their fort one Halloween, the class president election in fourth grade and her infamous "BESTIES" gamble, trying to strangle Abby Haddington to get to Louise, that time she was forced to hang out with Millie to solve the "doll mystery" because the Wagstaff faculty was trash, and all of the aggressive things Millie did to violate Louise's personal space and sense of security right up to the unwanted kiss and all the letters she's sent Louise from a jail cell.
Logan listened to the whole thing. He didn't ask any questions or make Louise feel like shit for being scared. Louise had never appreciated someone so much and equally hated them as much for her own desire to want to be close to them. Everytime she was with Logan Bush, he seemed harder and harder for her to emotionally navigate. She wanted Logan in her life permanently, she realized. And that just wouldn't do.
"You could answer your phone more," Logan suggested in an incensed tone.
"You could show up more," Louise countered. She had him on speaker phone as she did food truck prep.
"I'm the one calling you while I'm on lunch. I'm the one showing up to your damn restaurant for dinner almost every fucking night. And you're never there," Logan pointed out.
"Don't be so butt hurt. I have a job to do."
"I do, too. One that I can get fired from if I don't put out."
"Yeah, you know a lot about not putting out."
"Call me back when you stop acting so childish."
"Well, you're gonna be waiting a long time, Pretty Boy," Louise shouted into the phone, not realizing the line was already dead.
It was late May. Louise had done some math and some live trial and error. She'd decided to capitalize off of not taking a summer semester and pushing 2.0 to the limit. Louise went into Bob's Burgers with her father every morning at nine and helped him set everything up, do inventory, grind meat, and test out the deep fryers. If Louise was feeling extra nice, she would clean the grill so Bob didn't have to.
They opened an hour later at ten and Louise would work until just after the lunch rush. She would be cruising around Seymour's Bay in the food truck, raking in the dough, by early afternoon. She started pulling longer hours. Sometimes manning 2.0 for twelve or thirteen hours at a time
It meant less time with her family, but it also meant less time dedicated to wedding planning. The wedding was a month and a half away and it was like the planning might as well have just started. The venue had been booked and it was the only thing Linda hadn't changed her mind on. Linda would vent to Louise or call up Ginger on a nightly basis, exasperated that Zeke's step-mother's interest in the wedding only went as far as attending it and subsequently getting trashed at the reception.
Gene was showing up every few days and still dressed to impress, pushing Tina to pick outfits for the wedding party.
Everytime a decision was reached, Linda or Gene would axe it in favor of something more fabulous, or more cost effective, or something not as "clashy".
Tina was too easily influenced by suggestions to override Gene or Linda. Louise knew her older sister was going to have to explode on her own and stand up for herself on her own Tina-esque terms. Zeke knew this, too.
Tina's tipping point was already on back order. Tina had called her sister a few nights ago asking how to get herself away from the chaos. Louise told her to pretend she was sick and stay away for a few days.
"By the way, have you thought about 'If You Love Something, Set It On Fire' by the Burning Couches?" Louise pitched a potential first dance song to her sister.
A long Tina groan came through the phone line before she said, "It's just not really a wedding song."
"To be continued," Louise sighed.
Tina may not have taken the song recommendation, but she did take Louise's other piece of advice. It worked for a while, until Linda started to get stir crazy and maternal and asked Zeke on an hourly basis if Tina was feeling better. A quick conversation with Zeke before she'd started prep for food patrol made Louise privy to new info: yesterday was the last day Tina thought she could possibly milk this fake sickness.
"Typhoon Tina's coming?" she'd asked Zeke as he put on his apron.
"Yeah, girl, she's coming," Zeke had said with vigor. They were in the kitchen while Bob had gone down to the walk-in to grab 2.0's daily supplies.
"It's about damn time," was all Louise said in response.
Louise occasionally brought Harley on a ride along with her. Usually on a weekday when it was slower business and she focused less on posting near Wonder Wharf proper.
Louise never brought Logan on a ride along, though he did ask her about it once on a weekend. She told him "no." That was the beginning of the bickering.
Louise had casually mentioned one night a few weeks earlier that she was looking at places in Seymour's Bay with low rent. Places she thought she might want to move into after her senior year drew to a close. Somewhere in close proximity to where she'd want to open up "Belcher's Burgers and Beer."
Logan casually mentioned how much time Louise already spent at his house.
"It's not like you have a whole lot of stuff anyway. I have empty closets. A spare room for all your extra stuff. You already have a shit ton of things here anyway."
"You want me to move in with you? You want me to help pay for your mortgage? That's frickin' hilarious."
"I wasn't kidding," he'd said, looking a little angry.
"No way. I'm not ready. I haven't even had a chance to live on my own yet. I'm not going to be that chick who moves from her parents house into some guy's house like she can't be responsible for herself"
"Okay. I understand."
And she knew he truly understood. That was part of the problem.
In the midst of all the chaos and arguing, a few weeks earlier Louise had invited Logan to the first, and last, Belcher Mother's Day brunch. As anything else planned with care in the Belcher Household, it fell apart almost effortlessly.
Zeke's parents said they were going to show up, but didn't. Gayle kept calling every hour from five in the morning until the time Bob went to pick her up, asking when the brunch was starting and when she and her cat should be ready. Logan came over way too early and spent half of the visit alone in Louise's room on his phone with his grandmother who was yelling at him for not talking to his mother. Then the other half of the time trying to call his mother who was "too put out to come to the phone."
When all the guests sat down to a cold brunch that Linda forgot to keep on the stove, because she was too busy chatting with Ginger, Bob was pissed to discover it was only half of what he and Louise had made. Alex and Gene had long since started eating the food before it had formally been served.
In the middle of the tragic brunch, Mr. Business II jumped onto the table. An allergy addled Bob sneezed all over the cat and Gayle. Gayle went into whiny hysterics over all the germs and the intolerable treatment toward Mr. Business II.
After the devastating failure that was the family meal, Alex and Gene were lazing on the living room couch, watching Banjo. Zeke took Gayle and Mr. Business home to be away from the unpredictable danger of sneezes. Linda and Bob went down to the restaurant for the late opening. The apartment kitchen was a wasteland of dirty dishes and silverware. Tina washed, Logan dried, Louise put away.
"So, I guess I haven't really gotten a chance to say it yet, but congratulations Tina."
"Thank you," Tina said, handing Logan a plate.
"Don't listen to him, he's trying to suck up so he gets invited to the wedding," Louise said, putting silverware away.
"He is invited to the wedding," Tina said.
"Stop lying to him, T. You're just going to hurt his feelings when he finds out you're joking." Louise said flatly.
"Louise, he's invited."
"You're a shithead," Logan smirked at Louise and playfully threw the dish towel at her. The towel landed on her shoulder.
"Oh, you were kidding," Tina said to her sister.
"She's mean to me, Tina," Logan said. "So mean."
"My sister's not for the faint of heart," Tina said insightfully.
"What's she gonna do? Cut my ears off?" Logan laughed.
"Don't look away, Logan, cause if you do, you don't know what's gonna happen," Louise said ominously, glancing down at the silverware drawer. Logan rolled his eyes at her.
The brunch had been a few days after the Millie incident. It had been the happiest he and Louise had been in each other's company since before the incident.
Logan felt like Louise was slipping away, she was working all the time. It was becoming almost impossible to see her. She was making it almost impossible to see her.
He'd convinced himself that there would be a period of adjustment. They'd only just come out on the other side of a frightening experience. For Louise, it was doubly so. She had a lot to process. She needed time. Logan would honor that.
But it didn't get better. Louise made herself inconvenient, then inconvenienced. Under the suspected guise of interest in lost time on business matters. Logan convinced himself his hunches were wrong. That he was maybe feeling a little insecure, because, after all, his special friend was wildly more independent than anyone else he knew. But, he knew that he knew exactly what was going on: Louise was doing what she did best: running away from her feelings.
Not for the faint of heart. Logan learned how true this was when it came to Louise. He learned it over and over again since he'd first met her. It seemed these past few months, he was learning it on a daily basis. He was learning just how difficult Louise could be.
It was early June and as Louise sat in 2.0 outside of Wonder Wharf, she felt that familiar undercurrent of guilt and sadness work its way into her chest. She hadn't spoken to Logan in a week, and before that it was a lot of bickering and arguing and blame on both ends. Today was different. Louise knew what day it was. She knew she should be spending it with Logan, but instead, here she was pretending she had better things to do.
Louise pulled 2.0 into the alley behind Bob's Burgers early that night. Eight hours of food truck wages and the added hours of the morning in the restaurant were reasonable enough, she decided. She took The Hurt Locker up to her room, set most aside to take to First Oceanside Savings Bank on Monday for her routine deposit, but set some aside to take with her in the interim.
More money could always be made, time couldn't be gotten back. She felt utterly stupid at the cheesiness of the thought.
Louise pulled out her phone and called Logan. No answer. She called again. No answer. The time on her flip phone read just after nine in the evening.
"I'm borrowing the car," Louise shouted from her room.
Bob and Linda were in the living room watching TV, willfully ignoring their daughter. No objection? No problem! Lousie grabbed the keys and drove off in the Belcher Beater.
She parked in the driveway upon seeing the living room lights on. She let herself into the house.
"Logan!?" she shouted.
"I'm right here," Logan said firmly from the couch, small dog placed squarely on his lap.
"You didn't answer your phone."
"So? You never answer yours."
"That's different. You always answer."
"You're not wearing your Ears, Four Ears," Logan stared at Louise with a glazed over look in his eyes.
"Astute observation, Big Bush," Louise stood in the doorway of the living room, arms crossed.
"Don't call me that, you know I hate it," Logan said flatly, he picked up the large bottle of whiskey sitting on the coffee table and took a generous swig before setting it back down. He had some reality TV show playing on low volume, but he wasn't paying attention to it.
"What's that all about?" Louise nodded to the bottle.
"Coping," Logan shrugged.
"That all seems...very healthy," Louise said, making her way over to the couch, sitting down deliberately close to Logan. He moved closer to her, filling in the space and wrapped his arms around her. "Stop trying to cuddle me, you little bitch."
"No. We're staying like this."
Louise begrudgingly complied, "You're sucking up awful fast for someone who's spent the last three weeks fighting with me."
"Yeah, I could say the same to you."
"So, this is what's been keeping you warm at night?" Louise took the bottle of whiskey off the coffee table and took a quick swig.
"Just tonight."
"The night's still young."
"I don't care. I'm a party of one."
"Two."
"So you are staying?"
"You're a mess. I don't think I have a whole lot of options."
"Good."
"Good? I had a whole night planned. I was going to take you to Pie in the Sky. Then I was going to take you to Wonder Wharf to play Skee Ball."
"We can do that tomorrow. I'm not gonna be any good at Skee Ball while semi-drunk."
"What's got your asshair in a knot?"
"I talked to Tom today. I had to call him, 'cause he didn't call me. And then Mom called me about him."
"Tom, like your dad Tom."
"Duh! catch up," Logan said in a high-pitched voice, mocking Louise.
"I do not sound like that."
"Yeah, you do. Anyway, guess what he told me?"
"What?"
"His girlfriend's pregnant. I'm gonna be a big brother. Happy Birthday to me!" Logan punctuated his false cheer with another swig of whiskey.
"Oh, fuck, that's…"
"Fucked?"
"Super fucked," Louise confirmed.
"And he's so excited about it. He's more enthusiastic about this damn hussy's kid then he ever was about me."
"Geez, tell me how you really feel."
"I hate it," he said. Louise got a good look at him when he said this. His eyes were puffy and red-rimmed.
"Have you been crying?"
"No," he scoffed, but he pulled Louise closer to him and took a deep breath when he said it.
"Look, you can't blame the kid. And you can't really blame your dad's girlfriend. The only thing she's guilty of is being stupid."
"I'm gonna be almost thirty years older than this damn kid. How am I supposed to relate to that?"
"Well, you already act like a five-year-old. So, problem solved," Louise smiled at him.
"You're not funny," Logan glowered and took another sip of whiskey.
"Okay, I'm confiscating this. You've had enough," she took the bottle out of his hands and placed it far away from both of them on the opposite end table.
"Mom's freaking out. The ink isn't even dry on the divorce papers and she keeps bitching about all the other country club moms asking her questions and gossiping and shit."
"That's Cynthia's problem, not yours."
"My birthday isn't her problem either. Your family pays more attention to me than mine does. Your Mom texted me 'Happy Birthday' this morning. Scotty too. Only people to say it all day," Logan said, looking pointedly at Louise.
"You want special treatment because you got old? Really?"
"Don't be selfish, Four Ears. Say it."
"Happy Birthday, I guess. I wouldn't exactly call it 'happy,' though."
"No, it's fucked. My dad is literally having another kid and he can't even remember that it's my birthday."
"You dad's shitty. So you have a responsibility. You have to make sure that stupid little new fucker doesn't end up like you when they pop out."
"I turned out fine."
"Arguable. I meant you before the age of twenty-five."
"Yeah, that would be one screwed up kid. Takes one to know one though," he looked at Louise again.
"Speak for yourself," she said.
"I am speaking for myself. And it's my birthday, so as my 'speaking' gift, you have to promise me when we get married you'll never run off on me and cheat on me with some younger, stupider piece of shit."
"I'm never getting married. Not to you. Not to anyone. And you've set the bar pretty low on stupid. I'd have to cheat on you with someone who was brain dead."
"You're so mean. I missed your mean ass," Logan sighed.
"Speaking of mean asses, you need to get your mean ass to a shower and a bed."
"I'll sleep when I black out."
"No blacking out," Louise said firmly.
"I spent my twenty-ninth birthday all alone. You don't get to come in now and start telling me what to do."
"I do. And you're going to listen or things are gonna start getting slappy."
"You wouldn't," Logan hiccuped.
"Brave enough to test that theory out?"
Logan got up from the couch and trudged up the stairs, wiener dog following in tow. Louise turned off the TV and went upstairs when she thought she heard water running in the master bathroom.
Louise walked into the bedroom, past the open bathroom door and the signing, drunken fool in the shower. When she saw Logan's phone on the nightstand, she snatched it up. A new plan was forming. She thumbed through his recent contacts and hit the call icon.
Louise felt like a little kid putting their hand in the cookie jar, parents in the other room about to catch her at any moment.
"It's almost ten, Logan Berry Bush. This better be important. News about your father, I presume?"
"Actually, Cynthia, this is Louise."
"Well, this is certainly...unexpected."
"I have a favor to ask you."
"That's very plucky of you, considering the state of everything last time I saw you."
"This isn't about me. This is for Logan."
"He can't ask for this favor himself."
"It's a surprise. For him. So, I guess you're doing a favor for me, but really it's about Logan." Louise felt sick to her stomach, pandering to Cynthia of all people. Acting like she was nervous, too. Why were threats not as effective on adults now that she was an adult?
"I'm listening."
When Louise was done talking to Cynthia, she hung up and erased the call history. She got up from the bed and walked into the bathroom. The sound of a pitchy, off-key Logan and a wall of steam greeting her.
"It's a dirty job, but I ain't stoppin', I know I'm breathin' toxins, but you're lookin' foxin'. Will you be mine, coal mine? Will you be mine -"
"Are you fucking kidding me?"
"Took you long enough to notice."
"Since when do you sing Boyz 4 Now?"
"I've just been getting into them really recently."
"For no reason?"
"Because it reminded me of you."
"You are such a desperate, little man."
"No, just drunk enough right now to admit I missed you."
"Well, I...didn't hate it."
"And you missed me?"
"You sound so hopeful."
"And you missed me?" Logan repeated, stepping out of the shower.
"I may have missed you," Louise admitted.
"You could show me how much you missed me," Logan suggested.
"Yeah, I was planning on it," she said, pulling the wet, naked man toward the bed.
In the morning, Louise rolled out of bed and left Logan a note telling him dinner was at Pie in the Sky. To go straight there when he got off work. She had an obligation to return the Belcher Beater before Bob and Linda woke up.
That night, Louise posted 2.0 up near Pickles, location on Chowster updated and business semi-booming, when her phone started buzzing.
Logan: You invited my mom? Seriously? (Delivered 6:08pm)
Logan: Where the fuck are you? (Delivered 6:08pm)
Louise: I said where dinner was, I didn't say I would be there. (Delivered 6:13pm)
Logan: You're evil and that's not a compliment. (Delivered 6:14pm)
An hour and a half later, Louise's cell phone rang. She flipped it open and held it to her ear with her cheek and shoulder.
"Thank you," Logan said.
"Sounds like you and Cynthia had a good, long talk?"
"You could say that."
"I can't talk, really. I'm standing in front of the grill right now."
"Is it on?"
"No, I'm serving these people air."
"Okay, okay. I'll see you tonight?"
"If you promise not to get all emotional and talk about how you had Mommy-Daughter bonding for dinner, then fine."
"No promises," Logan said before he hung up.
Soon after inventory dwindled and Pickles closed, Louise parked the food truck in front of the familiar house. In that familiar house she found herself curled up on a couch, with a dog in her lap and an obnoxious, sarcastic man sitting next to her. A shared bottle of whiskey passed back and forth between them. The whiskey reminded her vaguely of something she'd been meaning to do all day.
Louise: "Coal Mine" by Boyz 4 Now. (Delivered 1:38am)
Tina: It's perfect! (Delivered 1:39am)
Louise: Why are you awake right now? (Delivered 1:40am)
Tina: A romantic heart always knows. (Delivered 1:40am)
Louise: Eye roll emoji. (Delivered 1:41am)
Tina: That's not how emojis work. (Delivered 1:41am)
Logan shifted over and leaned in on Louise's shoulder, eyes closed.
"Are you asleep, loser?"
"Almost."
Louise leaned in a little a little closer to Logan. She'd been gone a long time. She'd ached for this warmth in her chest she got when she sat next to Logan. The ease and security that came with sitting next to him or falling asleep next to him.
Maybe this could be home. As long as he didn't say anything stupid. Not something stupid like, "I love you."
Author's Note: I debated a lot with myself about re-writing this chapter. Millie is a very small part of this story and her "surprise visit" plays a total of a few thousand words in this whole story. However, I set up for it from early on in the story and it added a bit more depth to Logan and Louise's relationship. It put them in a tough situation and you get to see how they handle it. That is why I decided to keep it in. I acknowledge that this is not really that kind of story and if it feel a little out of place here, so be it.