9:00 am

The sky is blue this morning. I am back at the window, but this time I’m watching the sunlight streaming into the apartment. It feels so appropriate to be in the light again.

Calling Max yesterday was the best decision I ever made. I dialed Jam Pony, hoping to catch her before she went on her first run. I don’t know exactly what I said, but Max was on the phone in five seconds.

"You said if I wanted to talk…" I began hesitatingly, but Max cut me off.

"Logan, I’ll be there in five minutes. Can you do me a favor and talk to Normal until I get there?" Fear and urgency mingled with gentleness in her voice. Before I could respond, an irritated Normal had taken over.

"Go on! Get out of here." He shouted partially into the phone. "You’d think that girl doesn’t trust me. As if talking to me for five minutes would drive a person to suicide." He continued mumbling to himself. I was incredulous. Max wanted me to talk to this guy?

"Logan, is it?" The voice suddenly became clearer.

"Hey." I responded reluctantly.

"I’ve seen you around a few times. Took Max to that wedding, didn’t you?"

"Yeah."

"I’m not quite sure what you see in her, aside from her obvious assets. Though I doubt the fact that she can peddle a bike and deliver packages on time can compensate for that attitude of hers." Normal definitely had a unique perception of things. Pedaling a bike would never have been at the top of my list of Max’s obvious assets.

"Well, I guess that's more than you can say about half the cretins around here." He continued griping.

"Answer a question, would you?" I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me. "What brought you to Jam Pony?" I couldn’t comprehend what he was doing in a place that he appeared to hate.

"Harvard PHD in Management Science. An opportunity for practical application." Normal’s tone had suddenly turned clinical. "Where did you go to school?"

"Yale."

"Journalism, right?" His tone changed once again, taking on a more personal ring.

"Yeah." I responded, completely surprised that he would know that. What had Max told him?

"Can be a challenging career, especially in this era. I much preferred George W. Bush’s administration. That man knew what free speech meant."

"I was a kid then. I don’t remember that much."

"I had just enrolled in Harvard. I was young and idealistic. The whole country was more like that then."

"We’ve lost a lot," I said, not quite hiding the regret in my voice.

"Yeah, but we’re not going to let go that easily, are we?" Normal seemed to have changed subjects once again. I got the distinct impression he wasn’t talking about the state of the nation any more.

"No, we won’t," I answered with greater conviction. I knew exactly what I was referring to.

Max walked in at that moment, cutting our conversation short. I tried to thank Normal for his time, but he brushed me off.

"Tell Max she owes me two free hot runs. Time is money after all."

"Thanks anyway," I insisted.

"Hmm." Was the extent of his ‘your welcome’ as he hung up.

"Interesting boss you’ve got there, Max." I couldn’t keep the amusement out of my voice.

"Figured you could use some comic relief." Max smiled

"He says you owe him two hot runs." I grinned.

"In his dreams!" Max laughed again. Then her gaze changed as she surveyed the disaster on the floor.

"Sorry about the mess." I offered, suddenly embarrassed, but Max barely blinked at the mess as she quietly sat down beside me.

"I’ve been battling old demons the last few days." I struggled to explain myself. "Had a short visit from Jonas and Margo. Kinda pushed me over the edge. Max, when I told you I didn’t care what they thought about me, it wasn’t true. After my parents died, they were the only ones remotely close to parents that I had. When I was younger, I tried so hard to please them, but I could never meet their expectations." In a few disjointed sentences, my sorrow poured out.

"I find it so incongruous that I can have a deeper conversation with Normal than with my own Uncle and Aunt." I said with frustration.

"That’s a new one for the presses, Normal, the great conversationalist." Max smiled.

"Yeah." I responded quietly, but my mind was still on my failure with Jonas and Margo. It reminded me so much of the situation with Valerie. I thought we had love there, but it turned out that we had nothing. "I don’t understand why I keep trying to believe in things that were never there in the first place." I voiced my disappointment out loud. Max silently met my gaze. I could tell from her eyes that she has also had many disappointments in her life.

"Oh God, Max. Why don’t they love me?" I asked, with a childish longing I didn’t realize I had. Max was silent for a long time. I shouldn’t have asked her that question. It was so unfair of me to burden her like that. She knew more than anyone what it was like to be starved of love.

"Logan, I’ve never seen a picture of your mom. Do you look like her?" Max asked, taking me completely by surprise. I couldn’t understand why she would ask that then.

"If you will get the album in the cabinet, I’ll show you a few pictures," I suggested, willing to humor her on this. As I turned the pages and explained the pictures to Max, the memories of my childhood flooded back. Mom smiling encouragingly as I learned to ride a bike. Our family car trips with Bennett tagging along. The fights we used to get into in the back seat. Dad yelling at us to quit it, but secretly enjoying the scuffles.

"Here’s one you’ll like." I laughed as I turned to a hilarious shot of me flying off a diving board. I was such a gangly kid back then, with my arms and legs flailing in the air. "I think Dad took that shot. That may have been at the hotel that I was telling you about with the high dive. But as you can see, there was no way I was going up there. The three meter board was good enough for me."

"Great form!" Max laughed as well, then continued to flip through the album.

We soon found the pictures of Mom. She looked as beautiful as ever. She had brought so much beauty and love into my life. Dad had probably taken most of those pictures. I remembered that despite his rough edges, his love for Mom and for me was unmistakable. Suddenly, I realized what Max was doing. Whatever else happened in my life, I did have people who loved me and accepted me, and I always would. One of them was sitting right beside me at that moment.

"Thanks, Max." I smiled at her in gratitude.

"Show me some more pictures, Logan." She responded with a beaming smile of her own. We finished looking at the album and then we just kept talking. A few hours later, the grumbling in both our stomachs prompted us to scrape ourselves off the floor and prepare something to eat. We continued to talk until my eyes refused to stay open any longer. By 10:00 p.m. I apologetically excused myself and dragged myself to bed.

The early light streaming through the window woke me up this morning. I lay still for a few minutes, soaking in its gentle warmth. Then I eventually sat up and pulled myself into the chair. I grimaced from the pain as my arms took on the full burden of my weight, but it was not nearly as excruciating today. My body will heal soon. I moved to the window and watched the sunrise until it was full in the sky. Then I slowly opened the bedroom door, not wanting to disturb the quiet stillness in the air, and wheeled into the living room. I was surprised to see Max sleeping on the sofa, but I am glad that she has chosen today to catch some rest. I moved closer to her and watched her sleep for a few minutes. My album lay open on her chest, revealing a picture of Mom and I. I wonder how many times she went through it last night. I thought about moving it, but I know that I get if I get too close to her she will wake up in an instant. That would be such a shame considering how beautiful and peaceful she looks right now.

When Max fell into my life all those months ago, I had no idea how deeply she would affect me. I was mesmerized by her dark eyes. Their depths seemed to continue forever. I have since seen into those depths and I recognize the darkness she has had to fight, but I have also seen the light that shines in her. She has brought more light into my life than I ever expected. It warms my heart to see her sleeping peacefully, with her dark curls falling on her lovely face and her long lashes framing those dark eyes. She seems almost angelic lying there.

Forever Eyes

Dark

Somebody’s Angel

Who am I kidding? She is my angel.