Where the Allegheny Meets the Monongahela (12 page)

be seen.

—John Dryden

LATE Tuesday morning, Nick had just finished making a pot of coffee

when Trudy, loaded down with file folders, a coffee cup dangling from

two fingers, cruised into the break room. While aiming a cheery smile

at Nick, she thumped the cup down on the counter and started shuffling

through the folders. ―Good morning.‖ With her chin, she pointed to

Nick‘s freshly filled mug. ―How many cups is that?‖

―Who keeps count?‖ shrugged Nick as he held the pot over

Trudy‘s mug. ―Want some?‖

―Of course. Listen, I‘m glad I ran into you. I have two new cases

for you.‖ It took monumental effort for Nick to contain an audible

groan; apparently the sound effect was unnecessary, since Trudy could

read either his mind or face. ―I know how swamped you are, but—‖

―But, that‘s the way it is around here, you don‘t need to tell me.‖

He accepted the folders and started flipping through the first one.

―Marta going to be a resident?‖ he absentmindedly confirmed.

―Yes.‖

―The extra work wouldn‘t be so bad, but I just decided to add

another finance module; I think the group‘s getting too big to be

effective.‖ He scanned the contents of the second folder and noted the

home address of the new client.
Hmm, looks like we have a high-rent

abuser here….
―Mt. Lebanon, huh?‖

―Yep. Not the first client we‘ve had from there.‖

―Yeah, I know. And I‘ll bet anything Mr. Palmer has a high-

priced lawyer and tons of connections.‖

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Felicia Watson

―You‘re probably right. But let‘s worry about Sheila Palmer right

now, and we‘ll worry about what we can do about Dean Palmer later.

Okay?‖

―Okay. Where‘s Sheila living now?‖

―She moved in with a cousin. I spoke with her yesterday, and

while her physical condition is relatively good, emotionally she‘s very

fragile. I couldn‘t even get out of her what triggered the final break. I

think she‘s going to need extensive counseling, a few sessions a week

to start. You up for this?‖

Nick was already mentally adjusting his schedule. ―Absolutely.‖

―Now, admit it. Aren‘t you glad you‘re only seeing Norah

Seebold once a month?‖

―Yes… and no. Sometimes I think….‖ Nick took a sip of his

coffee to help him find words for his nebulous thoughts, but nothing

came. ―I don‘t know.‖

Trudy patted his arm sympathetically. ―It‘s hard to let go of some

of them, I understand. But according to your last report, she‘s ready,

and there are others now who need you more.‖

Biting his lip as though it were the qualms he held, Nick nodded.

―Okay, you‘re right. I‘ll get in touch with Marta and Sheila this

afternoon, get initial interviews set up for both.‖ He gulped more

coffee, then quirked an eyebrow at Trudy. ―You can‘t say I don‘t earn

my money.‖

Her red nails clicked rhythmically against her mug while she

teased back, ―Really? I had just started wondering if we were paying

you too much.‖

―Where the hell did you get that idea?‖

―Rumor has it that you just bought a sports car from Dave

Acken….‖

―Geez, you hear
everything
.‖

―Not me, my husband. Since Dave‘s heart problems are still

keeping him away from his shop, The Liberty Grill has become his

home base. So you
did
buy a classic car?‖

Where the Allegheny Meets the Monongahela

69

Nick laughed as he countered, ―Classic wreck is more like it. It

barely runs.‖

―And you‘re going to do
what
with it?‖

―Restore it. I hope.‖

―All by yourself?‖

―No. I got….‖ Nick found himself tripping over Logan‘s name,

and he swiftly substituted, ―…a guy to help me. Someone who‘s done it

before.‖

―That‘s good. But I never knew you were such a motorhead.‖

―You mean you can‘t tell by the ultra-sleek vehicle I‘m in now?‖

While Trudy snorted in amusement, Nick continued, ―I‘m not… or I

wasn‘t.‖ How could he possibly explain something he didn‘t even

understand himself?
“
Maybe I‘m having my midlife crisis early?‖

―Ahh, ever the overachiever,‖ Trudy joked. ―Well, good luck.‖

She turned to leave the small room but tossed over her shoulder, ―By

the way, I‘m expecting a ride when it‘s done.‖

Nick called after her, ―Oh, you bet. It‘ll be your retirement gift.‖

THAT Wednesday night, it was Logan‘s turn with Trudy. His ten-

minute stint in the waiting room seemed longer than usual, as he

couldn‘t even fake any interest in the scanty choice of magazines. He

spent the time fighting off the desire to snooze even though the springs

of the ancient couch were aggravating his sore muscles; several restless

nights had left Logan feeling like a faded washrag.
Can’t seem to sleep

a full night through. Goddamn hot weather, never used to bother me….

To his relief, the session started on a much sweeter note than

usual. After he dropped into the guest chair, Trudy welcomed him by

noting brightly, ―Sister Ciera stopped by Monday morning to tell me all

about the day at Kennywood. It seems your daughters had a wonderful

time—and so did you.‖

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Felicia Watson

―Yeah, it was good.‖ Logan paused and looked out the office

window without really seeing the passing traffic. ―Good seein‘ them

without… seein‘ them like that.‖

―Ciera also said you were a big help with the young kids.‖ Trudy

added with a genuine grin, ―Knowing that crowd, I‘d say that was

almost going above and beyond.‖

Logan ducked his head and shifted his line of sight to the floor.

―Don‘t know why she said that. She did most of the work.‖

Trudy retorted, ―I don‘t hand out many compliments, Logan. You

should learn to take them when I do.‖

Rather than telling the truth, that all he wanted from Trudy was

her signature on a piece of paper, Logan offered a quiet, ―Yes, ma‘am.‖

A sly note snuck into Trudy‘s voice as she said, ―It also seems

like someone else was impressed with your effort.‖

At that declaration, Logan‘s head and stomach shot in opposite

directions—gaze snapping to Trudy‘s face while the other sank to the

floor. ―Who?‖

―Your wife.‖

The anxiety Logan had felt while waiting for Nick Zales‘s name

to pass Trudy‘s lips only ratcheted up at that unexpected response.

―Who—how‘d you hear that?‖

―I spoke to her directly yesterday morning. And I have good

news—‖

―You‘re gonna sign that affidavit?‖

―Um, no. Not yet. I meant that Linda has agreed to joint

counseling sessions.‖ Logan was silent while he chewed over the

thought that apparently Trudy Gerard had no idea what constituted

good news for him. Before he could develop a response, she continued,

―It doesn‘t look like
you
consider that good news. Why not?‖

―I just want…. This ain‘t gonna be about hashing over all that

stuff from March, is it? ‘Cause I don‘t see the point in that.‖

―You don‘t?‖

Fuck, lady, ain’t I been punished enough?
―No.‖

Where the Allegheny Meets the Monongahela

71

Leaning forward, Trudy slid her forearms across her desk and

trained earnest mahogany eyes on Logan. ―How do you expect to get

back together with Linda if the two of you can‘t discuss the abusive

incident? If you remember, I told you when we began our sessions that

taking responsibility was a prerequisite for entering into couples

counseling.‖

―I
did
take responsibility. What do you call standin‘ up in court

and pleadin‘ guilty?‖

―I call that accepting the blame. There‘s a difference.‖

―Oh yeah?‖ Logan folded his arms and snapped, ―Well, why

don‘t ya explain the difference to me? ‘Cause from where I‘m sittin‘,

they‘re the same damn thing.‖

―Accepting responsibility means you stop calling it an accident;

stop making it sound like you backed into Linda‘s car or broke a dish.

You start calling it a mistake. A mistake you made and will never make

again because….‖ Trudy stretched her hand out towards her glowering

patient.

Wary of a trap, he merely responded, ―Yeah?‖

―
You
have to fill in that blank, Logan; no one can do it for you.

How about you stand up to your own wife and daughters like you did to

that judge? Explain to them what happened and why it will never

happen again—and mean every word you say. That‘s what they want—

and that‘s what Linda
needs
.‖

―Huh. What she needs….‖ Logan‘s annoyed whisper elicited a

frown from Trudy that deepened as his speech continued. ―Too bad. I

did my best, and if it ain‘t good enough… then it ain‘t. Who the hell

gets what they need in life, anyway?‖

‖I hope we all get what we need at least some of the time. Are

you telling me that isn‘t true for you?‖ Assuming that was more

rhetorical than anything else, Logan simply shrugged in response.

Trudy probed, ―What do you need that you don‘t have?‖

―Lotta stuff. My old job, my daughters livin‘ with me….‖

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Felicia Watson

―So you did have what you needed at one time.‖ Logan waited

out a pause, trying to remember if that had ever been true. ―Or wasn‘t

that what you were talking about?‖

As he studied the carpet‘s pattern, something he now knew better

than his truck‘s transmission, Logan felt too tired to offer anything but

the bald truth. ―It doesn‘t matter.‖

―Yes, it does. It matters a whole lot. Don‘t you think you deserve

to get your needs met?‖

It ain’t about deservin’, it’s about….
―What if….‖ Logan‘s eyes

finally found Trudy‘s face. ―What if what a man needed is… wasn‘t the

right thing?‖

―I can‘t answer that question unless you tell me what we‘re

talking about. What did you need and not get? Not to have a wife and

child to support at age twenty? To hang onto the job you loved? Stay in

the town you grew up in? It‘s okay to be resentful about those things, to

feel cheated. None of that is as bad as losing control and hurting

Linda.‖

―No shit. Did ya need all these degrees,‖ Logan pointed at the

wall and continued, ―so you could tell me that?‖

―You‘re not getting it. The two things are directly related. Do you

know what kind of man
never
gets what he needs?‖

―No.‖ Logan was determined not to give her the satisfaction of

asking, but when a long silence revealed that Trudy wasn‘t going to

volunteer the information, he
had
to ask, ―What kind?‖

―A very angry one.‖

LOGAN spent more time than usual mulling over his session with

Trudy but had reached no concrete conclusions by the time he arrived

for the automotive class on Thursday. When the clock showed ten

minutes past three with no sign of Nick, Logan managed to stifle his

disappointment, though he did voice his surprise to Norah. ―Whaddya

think—Nick ain‘t gonna show?‖

Where the Allegheny Meets the Monongahela

73

Norah had no insight into Nick‘s whereabouts, but Tish finally

interrupted her cell phone conversation with her sister to say, ―Oh, I

forgot, I was s‘posed to tell yuins that he‘s gonna be late. He‘s getting a

new client set up at ACC. But he‘ll be here.‖

―Uh… okay.‖ With some effort, Logan cleared all thoughts of

both perplexing counselors from his mind and dove eagerly into the

class. Though he‘d willingly down a quart of motor oil rather than

admit it to anyone, he had started to enjoy teaching these women about

cars. As he showed them how to change the oil on Norah‘s Cavalier, he

felt doubly pleased. Not only was the car getting some desperately

needed maintenance, but the three pupils were very obviously

becoming quite comfortable around an engine.

They were halfway into the class when Cheryl bent down to

check the progress of the grungy oil draining into the pan; Logan

cautioned her about her free-flowing long hair trailing on the ground.

As she hastily snatched the mass up and away, he commented gruffly,

―You‘re just like my older girl. Her hair‘s always gettin‘ into

everything too.‖

―I got somethin‘ you can put it up with,‖ Norah offered, and she

rooted around in her bag before producing a plastic claw clasp.

Cheryl took the clip and fumbled with her slippery hair; in the

process, her wispy cotton shirt rode up in the back to reveal an angry

red scar slicing down her skin. Tish reached over and lifted the blouse

up a bit more, but there seemed to be no end to the gash. It trailed down