Cracks in Their Shells

Bud reached for his wallet and withdrew a dollar. "Go ahead and hold on to that," he said with a smile. "I'm afraid I'll spend it somewhere and won't be able to pay up when I lose. This is one bet I will be glad to lose, though."

Charlotte smiled in victory, then began to chuckle. "Just don't fake a heart attack the way you did when Tom asked to marry Cassie."

*********

Christmas morning dawned bright and cold. The sun reflected off the snow in a blinding, dazzling array of light. A beautiful cacophony of Christmas carols played from the bell towers of the local churches. Throughout town, children were waking up to find empty cups of milk and plates of cookie crumbs from the treats they had left for Santa, surrounded by the mounds of presents he had left in return. All things snow-related were taking place: snowball fights, snowman building, snow angels, sledding, and snow cream. It was an ideal Christmas morning in Boone.

True to his word, Logan went to pick up Becca early Christmas morning. They drove back to his house where Logan introduced her to a Mathews family Christmas tradition: stack upon stack of pancakes. Hal and Marilyn, Martin and Mitchell, and Becca and Logan all ate their fill of the fluffy cakes, then the boys each opened a couple of presents. They had reached the age where money was the most practical gift for them, but it wouldn't have been Christmas morning for Logan if his sons didn't have the opportunity to tear into some wrapping paper. Logan gave Becca the hat, scarf, and mitten set and one of the books he had bought her, while he received a jigsaw puzzle, a bottle of aftershave, and a bag of his favorite coffee from her. Roscoe even got in on the action, getting an orange "huntin' dog" collar and a rawhide bone. The rest of the gifts would be taken to Pete and Janice's house to be opened there.

Logan and Becca walked out to the workshop to get Sophie's piano bench. The temperature was already beginning to rise and the snowmelt trickled from the gutters. Becca, fearing she might not have another chance before the snow was all gone, scooped up a double handful from the porch railing and pelted Logan in the back of the head with the snowball while he was occupied with the lock to the shop. This led to a short-lived battle between the two of them before Becca begged for a truce. Breathless and giggling, she skipped into the workshop with Logan, wrapped her arms around him, and pulled him in for a kiss.

"I didn't get to wake up in your arms the way I wanted, but this still has been a fantastic Christmas morning, Logan. Thank you so much for..." Her voice trailed off as she looked for the words.

Logan took a step back, smiled at Becca, and asked, "Thank you so much for what?"

"Well, for everything. For being silly that first day that led to us coming here, for taking on all my baggage and sticking with me in spite of it, for making me feel safe and happy, and just being a part of my life in general, Logan. I love you to the North Pole and back."

"Well, dearest, I'm glad I was silly that day, and even more glad that you said 'yes' to my silly self. I can thank you for the same things, and I concur that this has been a fantastic Christmas morning. It's the fantastic-est one I've had in years, and I'm glad I get to spend it with you. I love you to the South Pole and back."

After sharing another kiss that neither of them wanted to end, they reluctantly broke it so they could load the piano bench in the truck. Becca had chosen a simple black leatherette material to cover the seat. It accentuated the natural color of the wood beautifully. As they approached the truck, Logan stopped suddenly as he spotted a bright red bird on the bed rail. Becca saw it as well and both stood quietly to see whether or not it would fly away. Seeing a cardinal, especially at Christmastime, meant that an angel was nearby. The bird chirped merrily, then flew over Becca's head and landed on the porch railing. Continuing its chirping, the bird then flew over Logan's head and lit on the truck again. Chirping one last time, it flew away and dipped out of sight. Neither Logan nor Becca spoke for a moment, but they looked at each other and smiled.

"She's visited me every Christmas Day since she left us," Logan said. "Just a quick stop by to say 'I love you' and 'I'm still watching over you,' but it's always long enough to give me peace."

"I think maybe she approves of me," Becca said softly. "That's what I'll tell myself since it didn't shriek or pull my hair or poop on me."

Logan chuckled, then said, "She does approve of you." He told her about the two leaves at the lake. "She's happy for us."

*********

Christmas Day at Janice's was as cheery as Christmas Eve had been at Charlotte's and Bud's house. Once again, the food was plentiful. Sophie and Jake were pleased with their presents, as was Becca with the remaining gifts Logan had bought her and the envelope Janice gave her that contained her Christmas bonus. Becca gave Logan two new pairs of jeans, a Red Sox cap, and a copy of the book he had been looking at in the bookstore the day of their first lunch together.

"I scanned through the first few pages," Becca said. "It looks pretty interesting with the conspiracy to kidnap the king of Scotland."

"One of the conspirators was surnamed Logan. Mom was a Logan, and as best I can tell from my family tree research, we are descended from that branch of the Logan family," Logan explained.

"What happened to your ancestor?"

"He died before he could go to trial, but they dug up his skull and brought it into the court to find it guilty of being a part of the conspiracy. The Logans became persona non grata in Scotland after that, so that's when our people began coming to America. Pretty interesting, don't you think?"

"I guess that means I've gotten involved with an outlaw," Becca giggled. "That's a secret I would have been okay with you keeping from me."

"Yeah, but most of us have changed our ways over the years," Logan joked. "By the way, that king, James VI of Scotland, became King James I of England. As in 'King James Bible' James. Kinda makes you wonder what history would have been like had their kidnapping plan succeeded."

"I think the Logans still have the kidnapping gene in them," Hal interjected himself into the conversation. "I'm being kidnapped tomorrow and being forced to take two ladies shopping. I've never cared much for cutting firewood, but I'd sure rather be going with you, Logan."

"Sorry, dear, but judgment's already been passed, and the sentence has been handed down," Marilyn announced. "And I even got a live body to sentence instead of just a skull." Despite his pleading and protests, Hal wasn't getting out of his punishment.

Resigning himself to his fate, Hal finally declared, "Well, if I'm in for the long haul tomorrow, I think it's about time to head back and get some rest. I sure am glad I brought some comfortable shoes." Hal and Marilyn exchanged hugs and kisses with the family and left to return to Logan's house.

As had become the norm, Janice and Pete praised Logan for his woodworking abilities. The bench that had come with Sophie's electric piano was serviceable but too industrial looking, so the bench Logan had made served a secondary purpose of being an attractive piece of furniture. Sophie had already begun arranging her music books and placing them in the box underneath the seat of her new bench.

"I'm glad it has a padded seat," Sophie observed. "Mrs. Maggie's bench gets uncomfortable during my lessons." This drew smiles and a nod between Becca and Logan.

"You can thank Becca for that addition, Sophie," Logan replied. "I hadn't even thought about it being uncomfortable until she suggested that we put some padding on it. Becca picked out the design of the legs and the material, too. She's a pretty good helper around Santa's workshop." His emphasis on the word "pretty" caused Becca to blush, but she smiled widely at his compliment. "I've decided to promote her to head elf."

"I will do my duties to the best of my abilities, Mr. Kringle," Becca said with an endearing giggle.

*********

Becca arrived at Logan's house the next morning and was disappointed to find that Logan had already left to go to the farm. Hal stoically accepted his fate and drove the two ladies to the mall, where Marilyn insisted on dragging Becca into every department store on both floors. Though not as crowded as it had been in the days leading up to Christmas, the mall was plenty busy with shoppers looking to score some post-holiday deals and others returning items. Becca hoped to satisfy Marilyn's appetite for shopping quickly, but she found the woman who was to be her future mother-in-law to be an untiring spotter of bargains. Three hours and eight stores later, a relieved Hal and triumphant Marilyn led Becca out of the mall with five new blouses, two sweaters, three pairs of pants, a skirt, two new pairs of shoes, and a gold bracelet. As a reward for being a good sport, Hal got to choose their lunch spot. Florida didn't have the good local barbecue places that Boone did, so he made it a point to visit his favorite diner each time he came back to North Carolina to see his kids and their families.

"You don't need that," Marilyn scolded Hal when he ordered a slice of lemon pie.

"Of course I don't need it," he replied, "but I want it. I wish you wouldn't worry so much, or at least wouldn't worry me so much."

"Well, your doctor said..."

"That I'm pre-diabetic. I know. I have high cholesterol and high blood pressure, too. And, I'm not getting any younger or better looking," he said with a wink at Becca. She stifled a giggle.

Marilyn sighed in resignation to her husband's logic. "You know I worry about you - and everyone else. I can't help it. Since we almost lost Logan..." She stopped suddenly, having temporarily forgotten that Becca was with them.

"What do you mean?" Becca asked. Her voice belied her nervousness at this unexpected revelation.

Marilyn's face hardened and a far away look came into her eyes. "He was three, and I was pregnant with Janice. We went camping with some friends of ours and the men had gone on a hike. Logan was playing in the dirt with his bulldozer and truck, and I dozed off in a lounge chair. I heard him scream, but when I jumped up I couldn't find him. Then I saw his toys by the stream that ran through the campground. I guess he had gone to wash them off in the stream and fell in when he bent over the bank, or maybe he got in the water on purpose - I'll never know. Whatever the case, he almost drowned. My friend jumped in and got him out and performed CPR while the ranger called 911. He was blue, Becca. He developed pneumonia and was in the hospital for three days while they pumped him full of antibiotics and steroids. When we got him in the car to take him home, he asked if we could stop at McDonald's and get a happy meal. He doesn't remember any of it."

Becca sat aghast at what she had been told. Hal stared into his coffee cup.

"So that's why I worry so much," Marilyn resumed. "To think that I almost lost my baby..." Her voice trailed off as she sniffled and wiped away a tear.

"But you didn't, Marilyn," Becca replied softly. "I understand why you worry, though."

"I try not to, but it's a hopeless cause," Marilyn smiled unconvincingly. "Logan has always been the most happy-go-lucky guy in the world, at least until he and Laura found out she had cancer. I'm glad he found you, Becca. He's returning to the man he used to be. Please take care of him."

"I will, Marilyn. I think we've both been good for each other. I know he has been for me."

*********

Logan, as was his usual habit, got up early that morning. As was not his usual habit, he was nervous. He knew Becca was coming early to go shopping with his folks, and he wanted to be gone when she got there so she wouldn't sense that something was up. He filled his well-worn thermos with coffee and grabbed three leftover Christmas cookies to eat on the way. Knowing Charlotte, she would probably have breakfast ready at the farm, and turning down her cooking would not be a gracious way to treat his future mother-in-law on the day he intended to ask for permission to marry her daughter.

As the trip transitioned from city to countryside, Logan reveled in the beauty of his home state. The Appalachian Mountains reached their highest point then slowly began to play out in North Carolina until they disappeared in Alabama. Small patches of snow remained in the shaded woodlots, and the fields were heavy with dew. The morning was crisp and sunny, which served to brighten Logan's already elevated mood.

He thought about Becca as he drove. Being with her was just - right. After Laura's death, Logan was unsure if he could ever love again. Now, he found himself head over heels for Becca. The period after Christmas was usually a letdown for Logan, but not this year. The grind of getting back to work didn't seem so bad, and the depression that gripped him throughout most of the year was minimal.

Since he had been with Becca, Logan had neglected his studies. Going back to school had been a means of distracting himself from his grief, but he had found that he enjoyed the challenge of learning new things. Even though he was struggling to learn a new language, the work he was putting into it had been rewarding. He liked the cabinet business, but there was a measure of pride in being able to one day put those three letters behind his name. He wanted this not only for himself, but also to make Becca proud. Deep down, though, he knew that such things weren't necessary to make his dearest proud. She was happy with him just being him. He felt contentment in this even though his academic dreams still lingered in his mind.

Logan's thoughts turned to another subject he and Becca had discussed: She wanted babies. Having two adult children, the thought of being a father again made him nervous. It wasn't that he was against the idea, but he had assumed the next children to be brought into his house would be those of Mitchell and Martin.

The thought of having babies led Logan to consider the elephant in the room: Becca was still guarded about giving herself up sexually. Logan didn't push this issue, but he could tell that she was slowly coming to grips with her desires for physical contact with him. She was a world-class cuddler, and their nights by the fireside were gradually becoming more comfortable between them. Logan learned to sense when he was pushing her boundaries and would back off when he felt her shift or stiffen at his touch. At least she didn't bolt from his lap as she had done that first night because of the trust that had developed between them. He knew that the time would come when their love would be consummated.

Logan made the last turn before reaching Bud and Charlotte's home. His thoughts turned again to the beauty of the countryside. He noted some landmarks that told he was getting closer: a tree stripped of its bark from a lightning strike, a pond tucked into a semicircle of trees, and a stand of pines just before the McQueen's driveway. Bud's cattle were in the field nearest the road as he turned onto the gravel drive. As he crested the rise that revealed the picturesque house and barn, Logan thought aloud, "God, I'll never get tired of this view." As he had done at Thanksgiving, he paused in the drive and took in the sight of the farm. He saw movement in the barn and continued up the drive to where Bud was waiting with two chainsaws and a gas can.

"Morning, Logan," Bud greeted him as he parked the truck. "You picked a beautiful morning to come."

"Indeed I did. I love coming out here. This is such a beautiful place."

Bud smiled with pride at Logan's praise of the place he and Charlotte had worked so hard on for many years. "I'm glad you like it. Come on in the house. Mother has breakfast waiting for you."

Bud, Charlotte, and Logan made small talk over a breakfast of bacon, eggs, and biscuits with gravy. It would be a couple of months before Logan's cabinet business would pick up again, but if the housing market stayed as hot as it had finished the year, he would have plenty of work to keep him busy in the coming year. Bud was getting ready to take a load of cattle to the sale barn in a couple of days, and Charlotte planned to take down the Christmas decorations while the men were cutting firewood. The conversation and the atmosphere were pleasant and comfortable, giving Logan yet another reason to enjoy coming to the McQueen farm.

Logan thanked Charlotte for breakfast as he and Bud rose to begin their task. Charlotte cleared the table and bid them good day. "Be careful, hon," she said to Bud as she gave him a hug. "You too, son," she added as she turned her hugging to Logan. He was caught off guard by her calling him "son," but chalked it up to the casual way southerners address each other at times.

Logan placed the chainsaws in the back of the truck next to the one he had brought. Bud took note of the axe and splitting maul in the truck and had an idea.

"Let's take my gas-powered splitter. That way, all you'll have to do is stack it when you get home."

"Good thinking," agreed Logan. "It will be a little more work on the front end but will save me some time in the long run. Plus, it will be easier on my back than swinging that maul."

Logan positioned the coupler of the log splitter over the hitch on his truck. As he reached for the latch, he heard Bud caution him "Careful with that," but not before he pinched his finger in the mechanism. Logan held his injured finger with his other hand and gritted his teeth to keep from swearing. It hurt like a shitbitcher.

"As I started to say, be careful with that handle, son. It'll pinch you every time."

Logan bristled a bit at being called "son" by Bud. Apart from his parents, grandfathers, and an uncle with whom Logan had been particularly close, he despised being called son by people. Most of the time when it happened, he was being condescended to. He sighed as he made sure he wasn't bleeding and knew that Bud hadn't meant anything by it.

Having finally secured the hitch, Logan and Bud started down the dirt road that led to the woodlot. The road was rutted and bumpy, and Logan engaged the four-wheel drive on the Chevrolet. Bud pointed out a couple of particularly rough spots which Logan drove around carefully. With each curve in the road, Logan became more nervous as he wrestled with how to ask Bud for Becca's hand in marriage. It turned out that Bud made it easy for him.

"Here are the trees I was telling you about, son. You can pull over to the right of them and that will give us room to work."

Being called "son" for a third time that morning was more than Logan could take. Bud and Charlotte were doing this intentionally.

"Now wait a minute," Logan began.

"Yes, son." It wasn't a question.

"What?" Logan was confused.

"Yes. You have my permission and my blessing to marry my daughter. Unless you were about to ask me something else, in which case I just embarrassed myself. But I don't think I did. Now, was I right?"

Logan's head fell back into the headrest as he smiled and sighed with relief. "Yes, Bud. There are lots of places closer to home I could have gone to get firewood, but I knew this way I would be able to talk to you alone, without Becca being here."

"Good thinking," Bud chuckled. Turning serious, he continued, "Logan, Charlotte and I have both seen the change in Becca. She's been so quiet and serious, and she's closed herself up in a shell. Now she's happy. She's happy, Logan," Bud repeated. "I've prayed a thousand prayers that I would live to see her smile like she did before - well, you know." His face suddenly hardened, and his voice turned cold and stern. "Don't you ever, ever hurt her, Logan. If you do, they'll never find your body after I get through with you."