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“I’ve been looking at apartments,” Louise announces as she marches into Logan’s house.
He hums faintly in acknowledgement, attention focused solely on the glass bowl of batter and spatula he is holding. She sinks onto a stool and reaches over the island to slap the spatula out of his hands. It hits the counter, splattering batter on his shirt.
He glances up. “What the hell Louise? You’re gonna screw up my macaronage!”
She rolls her eyes. “Is this another British Bake-Off thing?”
“It’s a good show! And you weren’t complaining when I made that Victoria Sandwich. You ate it in like three days!”
“Normal people watch the show… not run out and buy all the ingredients and butcher the recipe for five days.”
Logan waves this away, picking the spatula back up and continuing whatever “macaronage” was. From what she can tell, it appears to be sensually moving batter around in a bowl.
“Where’s that focus in the bedroom?” she quips, reaching forward to swipe her finger through the batter.
Before she can though, he catches her hand and shoves it away. “Stop. You’re going to completely ruin the consistency! And don’t make mean sex jokes when I’m trying to focus.”
“Who’s joking?”
He glances up and gives her a dirty look before resuming his efforts.
“Okay…,” he mutters after a moment, glancing over at his tablet. “If Bready, Set, Bake can be trusted, then this should be the proper consistency.”
Louise rolls her eyes so hard they hurt a little. “I’m gonna stop letting you hang out with my mom.”
“Um, excuse me? You asked me to hang out with your mom!” Logan says as he starts spooning his batter into an opened piping bag. “Actually, you said, and I quote ‘I need you to take this bullet for me with my mom. And before you get any ideas, no, Berry Quease-cake, I will not return the favour. It’s not a reciprocal request, being that Cynthia is a chookin’.”
“Cheuk-SIN, you ignorant slut. A. B, I said to humor her by watching her British old lady show. I did not say to make it your entire personality and torture Louise for the foreseeable future. C and most important of all… I forgot about Berry Quease-cake, that was a good one.”
She grins at him as he ties the piping bag off and shakes his head at her.
“I remind you again of the Victoria Sandwich which you finished in three days.”
“That was because Gene was coming to visit! I thought if he found out you have moderate skills in the kitchen he might never leave us again!”
“And you didn’t want to be parted from me, yes,” Logan nods along. “Makes sense. So should I stop making you cookies then…? Since it’s such torture?”
He makes a big show of pausing with the piping bag aloft in the air and she makes a face at him. “Obviously not. Don’t be dumb.”
He grins smugly as he bends down and begins to pipe out small circles of batter on the papered pan in front of him. “How was your day?”
“Oh, can I speak?” Louise retorts. “I wouldn’t want to break your concentration on your British food.”
“I think these are French. And also, you have done pretty much nothing but speak since you got here. If I was worried about it, I would have locked the door.”
She scoffs. “Like a locked door would stop me.”
He rolls his eyes, one corner of his lips quirked upward. “Right. Silly me. The point I was making is that I didn’t do that- I like talking to you.”
Louise bites her lip to hide the stupid smile which wants to sneak onto her face. “The feeling is not mutual, Bush-bane-of-my-existence.”
“Uh huh,” he says in disbelief. “Who asked who to move in together again?”
“Oh right! That’s why I was here! I got distracted by your seduction of the batter.”
“And here I thought you just missed me.”
“I’ve been looking at apartments and I’ve narrowed it down to two listings which I went to see with my realtor today.”
She pulls two folded papers from her jacket and smoothes them out on the floury counter. “Okay. So this first place-”
“Wait, what?”
“What?”
“Are we not staying here? At my place? I mean, I guess if you don’t-”
“No, we are! Don’t be stupid. Obviously, we’re staying here. Why do you think I’ve been bringing stuff here?”
Logan finishes piping the final circle of batter on the pan and sets down the piping bag. He rubs his forehead, leaving a white streak of flour behind. “Why are you talking about apartments, then?”
“I meant an apartment for me,” Louise says. “You just got flour on your face.”
Logan grabs a rag and swipes at his forehead. “Why would you need an apartment? You’re moving in here. Did I get it?”
“Not quite, just a bit more to the left. And yeah, I know that.”
He swipes the rag across his face again. “Now? So why would you need an apartment?”
“Well, it’s just gonna be my own place to keep some of my stuff. Just let me-”
She leans forward to brush the final grains of flour from him, but he steps back sharply. She darts her eyes down to meet his face, annoyed. But her annoyance shifts to confusion at the hard look in his eyes.
“Why the fuck would you need your own place?”
Her eyes narrow. “I just said. To keep-”
“What’s wrong with here for keeping things? You’re always bitching about how unnecessarily big it is.”
“Okay, I can only assume you are trying to start a fight. Nothing is wrong with here, but I meant the things that are just mine. The things I want to keep for me.”
“So the things you want to keep from me.”
“Sure fine, if that’s how you want to look at it!”
“That’s not how I want to look at it- that’s how it is! If we live together and you want to keep things for just you, then ipso facto you want to keep them away from me!”
She huffs. “Do not even pretend to be smart right now to get the upper hand in the argument.”
“I’m not pretending to be smart!”
“Then what the hell is with the Latin?”
“Everyone knows what ipso facto means!”
“Oh really? Then what does it mean?”
He pauses, flushing. “It means… fact… it’s a fact.”
She snorts and he glowers.
“Do not even start being a bitch right now to get the upper hand in the argument.”
She stands up slowly, straightening her shoulders and narrowing her eyes again. “What did you just call me?”
“You can’t get your own place, Louise.”
“I can’t?” she asks pleasantly, something dangerous swirling into her tone.
But Logan seems entirely uncaring of how thin the ice he is on is getting. “I am not being unreasonable right now! Do not act like I am being unreasonable! You cannot have your own place. I am not okay with that.”
“Right.” She says tightly. “To be clear, I was never asking your permission. I was asking which one you liked better. I am getting my own place. And you really don’t get a say in it.”
“Oh, are you? Cause I sure as hell am not paying for it!”
“And you think I need you to pay? Guess what? I’m gonna pay for it myself. Since, you know, it’s my place and none of your fucking business.”
“Louise. Let me be clear. If you get an apartment, you can move into it. ‘Cause you are not moving in here.”
She scoffs, shaking her head. “So… just to be “clear”: if I use my money to buy a place for me and my stuff, you’re gonna dump me? As if it has anything at all to do with you?”
“I didn’t say I was dumping you. I’m just not interested in moving in with you. Because clearly our relationship isn’t in the place I thought it was.” He answers calmly.
She nods. “Got it. You know, that’s a great way of putting it. Clearly our relationship isn’t in the place I thought it was either. Since you are being such a controlling prick about this!”
Logan glowers at her, hands on his hips. “So that’s it? You’re gonna get your own apartment and we’re not gonna move forward in this relationship because you need a place to keep your stuff that is separate from me that badly?”
“Oh my god, why are you being like this? I keep tons of stuff at my parent’s house that isn’t here! Is that not allowed too?”
“That is different and you know it! It’s not there for the express purpose of being kept separate from me!”
“Some of it is!”
He freezes, blinking stupidly.
Louise presses her advantage. “I have always wanted to keep things separate from you. I will always want to keep some things separate from you. And you’ve had no problems with it so far. So maybe stop being an unreasonable fuckwad and chill!”
Logan shakes his head in disbelief. “Okay. Cool. Thanks for explaining. Yeah, agreement withdrawn. I don’t think we should move in together.”
“Are you fucking serious?” she asks softly.
He straightens his shoulders and raises his head stubbornly. “I am.”
Louise scoffs again, yanking the papers off the counter and stuffing them messily back into her jacket. “Fine. No skin off my tits.”
She stomps to the door, quivering with emotion. “And in case you’re wondering, I also wanted the apartment for times like this. Times when I don’t want to be anywhere near you. Times when I can’t think of anywhere I’d like to be less in the whole fucking world.”
She slams the door behind her so hard that she hears something fall inside his house.
“Ho! Little Belcher alert!” Zeke hollers, racing over to the window and pushing it open for her. “You’re like a little spider monkey, girl! Hey T-bird! Your sister was over here clinging to the fire escape like a little spider monkey!”
Louise tumbles into the room and dusts herself off, reflecting begrudgingly that Zeke was alright as far as potential brothers-in-law go.
“I think your buzzer is broken,” she informs him breathlessly, standing back up. “I was ringing it but nobody was answering.”
“Not broken,” Zeke says brightly. “I disconnected our speaker thing. Tina didn’t like the noise; it scared her.”
“Oooookay,” Louise answers slowly. “But then how will you know when people come to your place?”
Zeke shrugs. “They could always text us.”
“But what if-” She breaks off, shaking her head. Not today.
“Nevermind. Where is Tina?”
Zeke leans back and waves at someone out of Louise’s sight in the bathroom. “Over there. As beautiful as ever.” He grins besottedly as Louise rolls her eyes and heads toward the bathroom.
When she reaches it, she can’t help thinking that her and Zeke have very different opinions on beauty. Tina is peering into the mirror, head tilted upward so as to allow her a better view of her nose canal. She waves distractedly as Louise hops onto the counter beside her.
“Hi-”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Okay.”
“Do you still keep stuff at Mom and Dad’s place?”
“Hmm,” Tina thinks. “What kind of stuff?”
“I don’t know.” Louise picks up a pair of tweezers and begins idly playing with them. “Anything. Stuff that’s important to you. Stuff you don’t want to have here. Your own stuff.”
Tina ponders this for a few moments, gaze still locked on her nasal canal. “I guess so. I still have some boxes of things in the attic and some things I leave there because they sort of belong there, you know. Is that what you mean?”
Louise huffs. “I don’t know what I mean. I just mean… I mean, it’s your stuff, right? Not yours and Zeke’s. Just yours. That’s why you keep it there. That’s why it belongs. Because it’s yours.”
“I guess.”
“And if you still had a place with whatshername from that creative writing course, you would probably keep stuff there too, right? Because it’s yours. And you should have your own place to keep your own stuff. Right?”
“Well. Why would I have multiple places? That seems expensive.”
Louise grimaces. “That’s not the point. The point is, if you did, that would be fine. Right?”
Tina finally pulls her attention away from the mirror, turning to face Louise with a puzzled face. “I guess? But Louise-”
“So it’s fine for me to have my own place, right?”
“I guess. But what about Logan?”
“What about Logan?” Louise snaps, digging the tweezers ferociously into the loose putty along the edge of the mirror.
“Aren’t you guys moving in together? I thought you wanted to?”
“ I did!” Louise spits the bitter thought that has been circling around her brain since she left his house. “ I asked him ! He’s not the only one who can make his stupid, big gestures!”
“Um… okay?”
“I haven’t changed my mind! He changed his!”
“Oh.” Tina blinks. “I’m sorry, Louise.”
Her vision is suddenly blurry and she hears a vague noise of sympathy from Tina as warm arms wrap themselves around her frame. “I’m sorry,” Tina says again. “I know you really liked him. And I know it hurts.”
Louise submits to the embrace, leaning forward to rest her chin on Tina’s shoulder and blinking the water out of her eyes. “It’s fine for me to have my own place, right?” she asks again, something more plaintive in her words this time.
She can feel Tina nod against her back. “I’ll help you find one.”
Louise leans away, thrusting her hand into her pocket to find the now-crumpled apartment listings. “I’ve already found two good options. I just can’t decide between them.”
“Already? When did you guys break up?”
She wrinkles her nose. “We didn’t break up.”
“Oh.” Tina blinks at her. “I’m confused.”
Louise huffs. “He got all pissy about me getting my own place so he said I couldn’t move in with him anymore because I wasn’t mature enough for him.”
“Wait!” Zeke pokes his head through the door, eyes narrowed. “He actually used the word mature?”
Zeke has been weirdly protective of Louise and has never really gotten over a lingering suspicion of Logan as the “older man”. She contemplates nodding for a moment, seeing Logan’s cold gaze and calm tone as he “withdrew his offer”. But Zeke cracks his knuckles just as she remembers the stupid streak of flour on Logan’s forehead and she decides against it.
“Not exactly,” she mutters. “He said that our relationship wasn’t in the place he thought it was.”
Zeke snorts like a bull, obviously still undecided. Tina walks over to him at the door and they have one of those conversations with their eyes which always feels too intimate for Louise to watch. Whatever the decision they reach, it ends with Tina closing the door firmly and turning back to fix Louise with a solemn look
“I don’t understand.”
Her tone is free of any judgment or emotion. It is the exact tone Louise needs right now. It is possibly the only tone that she would have responded to. It is, if she lets herself think deep enough about it, the reason she’d come here in the first place. She’d wanted to explain. Maybe- maybe - she’d even hoped Logan would give her an opening to explain it to him.
She sighs, resuming her efforts to remove the putty lining Tina’s bathroom mirror. “Do you remember that woman with the dead husband who she might have murdered?”
Tina squints her eyes in an effort of remembrance. “Vaguely? She was sort of into Teddy before Kathleen came along?”
“Well… sure. I mean, I don’t actually think so. She seemed pretty ruthless and incapable of human emotions… but sure. That’s not the point anyway! The point is… her husband guy had a separate apartment. Like aside from their big fancy house.”
“Yeah,” Tina nods along. “I remember that. Where we met Kathleen. Looking for the netskoy.”
“Netsuke… why does nobody get that right?”
“I mostly just remember Kathleen, honestly.”
“Right. Whatever! The point is he had another apartment! And I always swore that I would do that if I ever got in a serious relationship. Have a separate apartment for my stuff and the things I wanted to keep from said serious relationship partner.”
“Okay,” Tina nods slowly. “Why?”
“Because!” Louise snaps.
Tina just waits patiently and Louise huffs, stabbing the tweezers so hard into the putty that she feels the blow reverberate up her arm.
“Because… I… grew up in a closet, T. I grew up in a literal closet. As I got bigger, my possessions were half there, half in your room, half in the attic…. I always wanted to have my own place. For my stuff. I always wanted to have something for me. And I feel like that’s not that unreasonable! And there’s no need to jump to crazy conclusions that our relationship is in danger when I’m the one that asked him to move in!”
Tina nods again. “Okay. I sort of understand that. But you’re not ruthless or incapable of human emotions… as much as you might pretend to be.”
“It was his apartment. Not hers. I’m sure he was great.”
She glances over at Tina, who raises an eyebrow in the arch and perceptive way she has mastered over the years. “That wasn’t my point.”
“Ugh!” Louise groans. “It’s not about that! It’s just… I never… moved out, you know? I wasn’t like you. I definitely wasn’t like Gene. I stayed with Mom and Dad in a room that wasn’t mine- because again, my options were one of your guys’ rooms or a literal fucking closet. I stayed there and cycled in and out of various partners’ houses as I flittered through relationships. And now all of a sudden, Logan’s in my life. And he’s getting to be a bigger part of it all the time and he already has a stupid house which is way too big for him and it made sense to do this- it did. It made sense. And I want to do it! I really do- that’s why I asked him. But… I just… I want a place for my stuff. My very first place for my stuff. Just because it’s mine. Just a place that can be only mine. And maybe that’s stupid. But he still didn’t have to be a controlling dickwad about it.”
She frowns in annoyed remembrance as she finally succeeds at lifting a strip of putty away from the wall. “He didn’t have to be a dick. He was a dick. He’s not the only one having second thoughts about moving forward now. Because he was a dick.”
“I can see that,” Tina says thoughtfully. “Can I ask you if it’s a place for you? Or a place from him?”
Louise grimaces. “Why is everyone so hung up on that? It doesn’t matter.”
“I think it does,” Tina says imperturbably. “If it’s a place you’re trying to keep from him, then maybe you guys aren’t ready to move in together at all.”
Louise gapes at her. “You’re taking his side?!”
“Of course not,” Tina says matter-of-factly. “I will always take your side. But I’m not going to let you lie to yourself either. If it’s something you’re trying to keep from him, then you need to be honest with yourself about that.”
Louis groans, ripping another piece of putty off the wall ferociously. “It’s not about specifically keeping things separate. It’s not like I have these deep, dark secrets I’m hiding. It’s just about having that option. It’s about having a place for me with my stuff. I’m not frickin marrying him! What’s mine is mine… not his. Not now. Maybe not ever. Is that so terrible?”
“Is it because you don’t have faith that this relationship will succeed?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. Or maybe it’s because I think it will and I will lose any chance to have my own place.”
“Those are very different things.”
“I know,” Louise says with a wry smile. “I told you it was stupid.”
“I didn’t say it was stupid.”
“You said our relationship was like Helen and the murder guy!”
“At most I implied that.”
Louise huffs again, falling silent as she concentrates on a new strip of putty along the bottom edge of the mirror.
“It’s not,” Tina says suddenly and decisively.
“What’s not?”
“It’s not like that. It’s not a secret apartment- you told him about it. And… truthfully, I think it’s weird and it would probably hurt my feelings.”
Louise winces.
“But,” Tina continues. “I’m not Logan. Logan is…. I mean, your relationship is weird. To me. But it works. For you. And that’s really all that matters. Go back to see him. Explain everything you just said to me and see if he doesn’t find a compromise. He always does. It’s cute- even Zeke thinks it’s cute. And Zeke is keeping a file on Logan to give to the police just in case.”
Louise snorts, lifting the putty off with the movement. As she does, the mirror shifts to the right, seeming to be no longer attached at the left corner or bottom edge. She turns her head slightly to meet Tina’s gaze.
“Did you just-”
“I should go!” Louise hops down from the counter and slips the door open. “I should find Logan and do all that stuff you were talking about. You know. Busy, busy.”
“Louise-” Tina calls behind her as she skids around the corner to the front door.
“All good now, little B?” Zeke asks around a mouthful of Chex mix, leaning back in his armchair to wave her down before she reaches the door.
“Yep,” she says breathlessly. “But I might have broken your mirror, sorry about that.”
“I’ll just bill Logan for it,” Zeke says casually. A startled grin splits her face and she laughs.
“Please do. And also please send me a copy of your so-called file on him. I would very much like to have that.”
“Can do, girl! Good luck with whatever genius plan my beautiful lady cooked up in her smarty-pants brain-”
“Bye!” Louise cuts him off since he’s liable to go on for ages.
And he’s right. She has a plan. A plan she needs to enact now before she loses her courage.
She can’t read the look on Logan’s face when he opens the door. She thinks for a split second that he might close it in her face and she opens her mouth to say something. But before she can, he swings the door open wider and steps aside to let her in.
“Since when do you knock?”
She huffs a quiet sigh of relief. “I thought it would be weird to just walk in this time.”
He nods, gesturing her to the kitchen stool she’d been occupying only a few hours earlier. He sits down on another one- not the one right beside her, but the far one. She’s not sure if she should make anything of that.
She clears her throat. “How’s macaron… ing… going?”
He sighs, tracing designs in the flour which still litters his kitchen island. “It’s a very gentle pastry. I was too mad to do it, so I just gave up. I might try again later. If it keeps. I was gonna look that up… but then I didn’t… so….”
Louise props her elbows on the counter, placing her face in her cupped hands and rubbing her temples. “I fucking hate it when we fight like this,” she mutters. “I usually love fighting with you. But this sort of thing… it always sucks.”
“I know,” he mutters. “I don’t want to fight with you either. I think I’m just disappointed.”
“You called me a bitch.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“I didn’t mean to hurt you. But you meant to hurt me.”
“I know… I’m sorry.”
Louise shifts her head to rest in the hand farthest from Logan. She reaches out with the other one, running her pointer finger along the edge of his palm. “Me too,” she whispers.
He sighs heavily, closing his eyes for a minute, before turning to face her. “Okay. Let me see those listings. Have to make sure you get a good place.”
Louise leans back, startled. “Wait. What? I didn’t even explain myself yet.”
“I know,” Logan shrugs. “But I also know it’s gonna be a valid reason. It always is. Sometimes I just have to remind myself of that. In the world I come from, separate apartments mean affairs. But you come from a different world. And you’re not that kind of person. Sometimes I just have to remind myself of that.”
“And…,” Louise hesitates. “Can I still move in?”
Logan shrugs again. “If you want to.”
“I do,” she says. And when he doesn’t immediately respond, she lifts her hand up to grip his face and forcibly turns him to meet her eyes.
“I do want to move in with you, Berry Quease-cake. I really do. I just… also want this place for me. And I feel like I can’t explain that very well, but it’s not about keeping specific things away from you. I know I kind of said that, but I didn’t really mean it that way. I just want….”
“Four Ears,” he cuts her off gently. “You really don’t have to explain everything to me. I trust you. I trust this. That’s why I also want to move in with you.”
Louise laughs, a little flustered as she always is… when….
Her mind grinds to a halt as Tina’s words come back to her with a new significance. Logan always finds a compromise. Logan always finds a compromise. Logan always finds a compromise.
“Wait. No.”
Logan pulls his head out of her hand, shocked. “No? Which part? Are we still fighting?”
“I should explain. I should give you explanations- you shouldn’t have to take everything on faith. And I… I can be the one to compromise for once. This hurts you. Me having another place hurts you.”
“Louise, it’s fine. I-”
“Doesn’t it?”
“It’s fine -”
“Doesn’t it?” she insists.
He huffs, turning his head away from her. “I mean… maybe, but-”
“I don’t want a relationship where you have to swallow your hurt all the time while I just get to do anything I want. That’s not…. I can get a storage locker? How’s that for a compromise? Nobody has affairs in storage lockers.”
He laughs, turning to look at her again. “Now that’s just quitter’s talk, Four Ears. You can have an affair anywhere you please with enough determination and creativeness.”
She rolls her eyes, poking his hand which still rests on the floury counter. “Is that good? Is that a good compromise?”
“Can I have a key to it?” Logan asks lightly. “I won’t use it without your permission. But can I have one?”
Louise hums thoughtfully. A key. He’d need her permission. But he’d still have a key.
She turns to scrutinize his face and her eyes catch on the white smear still on his forehead. She laughs, that warm feeling swelling inside of her which always makes her feel weightless and stupid.
“You’re an idiot,” she informs him as she reaches out and finally brushes the flour from his face. “But yeah, you can have a key.”
“Really?” He pulls away from her to meet her eyes. “I thought I was pushing my luck with that one.”
“You probably were. But like I said, I don’t want to be the only one who gets away with pushing their luck in this relationship.”
He stands up and walks over to her, turning her on the stool to face him. “We’re killing this whole relationship thing. Now we just have to hammer out some make-up sex and we’ll be good.”
She snorts. “Of course we are killing this. You think the two greatest banes of Philip Frond’s existence can’t figure out something as silly as a relationship?”
“He sure can’t,” Logan quips, nudging her legs apart and stepping between them.
“He’s a loser,” Louise says, linking her heels behind his back and tilting her face up.
“I thought that was my role,” he breathes, leaning down and brushing his lips against hers before picking her up and turning to head down the hall to their room.
“Yeah. But you’re my loser. It’s different. You get a key to my storage locker.”
“I love you too.”