says. “Any ideas?”
I shake my head. “You’ve already done everything I could possibly think of. You may have to repeat. What was last week’s?”
“We hiked Pyramid Peak near Aspen,” Dean answers. “It’s a class three fourteener, so it was a challenge.”
“A challenge?” Tamara snorts from the sink, where she’s draining the pasta. “It almost killed us.”
“A challenge, like I said.” Dean winks at me.
Fourteeners are fourteen-thousand-foot mountains that are categorized into five classes. Class one peaks aren’t easy, but they’re at least hike-able. Class threes involve areas of scrambling over rocks or unroped technical climbing. Class five requires full technical climbing.
“Have you done a class four or five yet?” I ask.
“Not yet. Maybe next summer,” Dean answers.
“Not ever,” Tamara plops a dish of pasta down in front of us and narrows her eyes at her husband. “We have a child, remember?”
“I’ll work on her,” Dean mutters as his wife walks away.
“You can try,” she says over her shoulder.
Tamara recruits us to move the food to the small dining room.
“I hoped we could eat outside,” Tamara says, “but we’re supposed to have some storms this evening.” Thunder booms almost as soon as the words come out of her mouth, and she lifts a hand as if to say See? then walks to the back door, probably to call Jazzy in. She needn’t have bothered, Jazzy and Bean scurry through the door before she can say a word.
Jazzy clutches her mom’s leg, and Bean comes to me, ears down and tail between her legs.
“That was scary, Mommy,” Jazzy says. “The sky got really dark and the clouds were mad.”
Tamara hugs her. “You’re safe now. Time for dinner; go wash up.”
Tam’s food, even the simple stuff, is always delicious, but I don’t enjoy eating it as much as I usually do. Dean had asked where Stevie was tonight and thinking about it gave me a cramp.
Eating with Jude. Smiling at Jude. Kissing Jude? I can’t think about if she’s doing any more than that with Jude. Considering her kissing him is already more than I can stand.
I guess I don’t hide my mood very well, because Tamara touches me on the shoulder as I wash the dishes after the meal and asks, “You okay, Logan? You seem a little . . . down.”
Dean’s bathing Jazzy and putting her to bed, and Stevie’s sister dries the dishes as I wash them. It’s as safe a time as any to unload on her. With a few pauses to clear my throat and paw around inside myself to get at my real feelings, I tell her what’s been happening the last couple of months.
Tamara listens quietly, the towel in her hand moving methodically around dishes as I pass them to her. “Okay, so Stevie’s working through her thirtieth birthday bucket list, and she’s seeing a new guy. But . . . why does that bother you?”
Enter extra pauses, more pawing, and a few awkward stammers. “Because, you know, I always thought that by the time we were this age, we’d be, well . . . together.”
“So, you’re saying you want that to happen now?”
I nod and take a deep breath. Time for the truth to come out. “I love Stevie, Tam. I think I’ve always known that, but I was willing to wait and let things develop. Except they aren’t developing. She either doesn’t feel the same way about me or she’s fighting it. And I don’t know what to do about it.”
Tamara squeals and hugs me so hard I almost drop a soapy glass into the sink. “Oh, I was hoping you’d say that. Dean and I have been betting on this for years with Carol and my dad.”
I must look shocked, because she pats me and laughs. “I’m sorry, I know nothing’s settled yet. But everyone’s going to be so excited if this actually happens.” She grins again, but then settles her expression, and her voice is gentle when she asks, “Have you tried telling Stevie how you feel?”
“No,” I groan. “Things have been so weird between us. Like, we get along well, but this is the elephant in the room for me. I can’t pretend I don’t have these feelings for her anymore. I don’t know if she feels the change, but I think she might because she’s been avoiding me and spending every spare minute with Jude the last few weeks.” I can’t help biting off his name.
Tamara lays out the last few things to dry on the towel-covered counter, and we