Page 115 of Here We Go Again

Joe’s shoulders relax against his pillows. “I’m glad to hear that, girls. Because it’s yours.”

Rosemary gapes at him for a moment, not understanding his words. “Wait, what?”

“I left the cottage to both of you,” he says slowly. “That… that’s what I’m trying to tell you.”

Rosemary jerks her head up to look at Logan and sees her own shock mirrored back to her. She tries to put her confusion into words. “You… you left us…a house?”

“Yes. That’s why I wanted the three of us to come to Maine, together. Because I’m giving you this house.”

“Queen fucking Latifah, Joe! You can’t give us a house!”

Rosemary is stunned into silence. “Joe.” She manages when she finally finds her voice. “Logan’s right. You can’t leave us this house.”

“Who else would I leave it to?”

“Leave it to Remy!” Logan insists. “Damn, that man had to deal with your dramatic bullshit for half a lifetime. This is theleastyou can do for him.”

Joe shakes his head. “I talked to Remy about it, and he doesn’t want the cottage. He agrees with my choice.”

“Was this always your plan? To bequeath us your eighties sex cottage?” Logan pinches Joe’s side, and he yelps.

“I amdying. Stop hurting me!”

Rosemary starts rubbing her temples. This all feels like too much. Twenty minutes ago, Joe was smiling, and she was feeding him grits. She wants to go back tothatmoment, where she could pretend like everything was okay for a little bit longer. “You… you left us this house…? To… to share?”

“You’re both equal owners, yes.” Joe looks at Logan, and Logan looks away. “The house will be yours, to do with it what you want. Sell it, or… live in it.”

“Live in it?” Logan sounds disproportionately outraged at this suggestion. She stands up so quickly her chair topples over. “Joe, we can’t move to Bar Harbor, Maine! Especially nottogether.”

Logan flails her arms indignantly, and Rosemary feels her heart crack open all over again. She looks out at the view. Ocean and trees and so much sky. A typewriter under a window and a dog to walk on the beach and quilt that could be big enough for two, if they were snuggled close together.

Joe huffs. “Fine, then sell it. Use the money to build the kind of life you really want for yourselves.” He points a gnarled finger at Logan. “Get the fuck out of Vista Summit!” He swivels accusingly toward Rosemary. “Don’t go back to teaching! The layoff is a sign it’s time to take a risk! Write your book, my darling girl. You only get one life, and it goes by too quickly to spend time waiting for what you want. Have adventures! See cool shit!”

Rosemary feels the pressure of her tears pushing on her sinuses. It’s too real. It’s all feeling too, too real. He’s going to die, and he left them this house, and her anxiety is deafening.

Logan chokes on a sob. “NoTuesdays with Morrieshit!” she shouts. “You promised!”

“Logan. My stubborn, reckless, impulsive Logan.” Joe is crying now, too. “There has to be a little bit ofTuesdays with Morrieshit at the end. Surely you know that.”

Logan shakes her head and refuses to hear him.

“I know you think your impulsivity is a flaw, but it’s a gift,” Joe insists. “Life is too short. You’ve got to jump in with both feet.”

Logan keeps shaking her head, keeps crying. Rosemary wants to reach out for her. She wants to hold her and be held. She doesn’t want to go through this alone.

“I lived my life trying to avoid hurt and pain, and I ended up with pancreatic cancer at sixty. You could both guard your hearts for another thirty years, and you will still experience all the same hardship. We’re never truly safe. That’slife.”

Rosemary knows that he’s talking about them. About their relationship. About the adventure of loving Logan Maletis. Perhaps this entire road trip was all just an elaborate excuse for Joe to cosplay Emma Woodhouse and force the two of them together.

But Logan is already pulling away. She shoves out of her chair and pivots, all set to run away, like she always does, and Rosemary has her answer. Loving Logan isn’t worth all this hurt.

Logan makes it to the foot of the stairs before she stops her angry stomp. She turns back, marches to Joe’s bedside again, and throws herself back down in the chair. “I said I wouldn’t walk away again,” she says bitterly. She shifts in the chair like she’s being held there against her will. “So, this is me staying.”

“Thank you,” Joe says to her.

“Thank you,” Logan says back. She sounds pissed about it. “Thank you for leaving us this place.”

“Thank you both.” Joe reaches out for both of them, takes each girl by the hand. “For agreeing to drive a dying man across the country. You understand now, don’t you? Why it had to be both of you girls?”