Entry tags:

fanfiction, logan/veronica

Fic: Truth Be Told, part 7
Title: Truth Be Told
Author: monroeslittle
Genre: Veronica Mars
Rating: Teen (for later implications and such)
Summary: Marlie Echolls has as many doubts as any other sixteen-year-old girl. One thing she never doubted, however, was who her parents were. At least she didn't until a woman knocked on her grandfather's door and dropped the bombshell. Logan/Veronica; future fic.


"You're so boring now," Amy had complained. Apparently the emotional turmoil that had rooted itself within Marlie when her entire life had come apart at the seams made her boring, and her friends had nearly dragged her to the party at Julie Black's house.

 

She hadn't wanted to go, not really, but as those sorts of thing go, she was happy once she arrived. She had been so caught up in her own troubles for the past few months that she hadn't been paying much attention to anyone and it was good to rejoin the rest of the world. Marlie had never been a big partier, but with a father who wrote screenplays and best-selling books and was the son of a murdering actor, she was always invited to every 09er party.

 

Her mother had never liked that fact, but Marlie had never cared less in her life than she did now. And it was rather nice, really, getting to go to a party and not having Veronica around to give her yet another lecture on not accepting drinks from anyone and always keeping an eye open and taking that pepper spray I got you and this and that and this and that. . . .

 

Marlie was not stupid enough to get herself into whatever horrible thing Veronica was always so sure would happen.

 

The best part of the evening, however, was not the chance to get all of her family problems off her mind or getting to catch up with her friends or not having Veronica around to ruin the night. No, the best part was Sam Winters. He had moved to Neptune the previous year and was put in Marlie's trig class. She had fallen for him immediately.

 

She had dated boys before; she had even come close to having a serious boyfriend, but Logan Echolls had nipped that one in the bud before anything really came of the relationship. But something was different about Sam. Most of the boys at Neptune who were good-looking were also complete idiots or complete jerks. Sam was perfect as far as looks went and he was smart and sweet.

 

She had found herself shy around him, something she hadn't thought possible considering her parents were the least shy people ever. Now, though, Marlie wondered: was shyness genetic? And did that mean that maybe Lianne was shy? Was that why Marlie was shy? But she wasn't really shy . . . just around Sam Winters.

 

"Sam's looking at you again," Amy murmured, her voice both delighted and teasing. Marlie only shushed her.

 

"Don't let him catch you staring at him, then!"  she said, blushing and hoping people assumed it was from the heat of the crowded room. She had bumped into Sam at the start of the night and they'd talked briefly. It was the first time they'd really spoken outside of school. And though they'd gone off in different directions, he'd been staring at her all night. Marlie was thrilled.

 

It was nice to feel normal again.

 

A little past midnight he finally approached her again. "Hey Marlie," he greeted, smiling. He had the bluest eyes she'd ever seen. She had blue eyes and she'd always liked them, but her eyes had nothing on his. Nothing.

 

"Hi Sam," she said, smiling and trying hard not to blush.

 

"Tim and Riley are both too drunk so I'm giving them rides home," he told her, "but I was kind of hoping I could ask you something before I go."

 

"What's that?" she asked casually, her heart hammering.

 

"You got a boyfriend?" The way his blue eyes seemed to smile at her only made her heart beat faster.

 

"Nah," she answered, painfully maintaining the casualness of the conversation. "Why?" she continued, biting back her nervousness as she added playfully, "Interested?"

 

He leaned close to her and pressed a kiss on her cheek, murmuring into her ear so closely that she could feel his warm breath, "Definitely."

 

When she arrived back at Lianne's a few hours later with Amy, she had been all giggles. He had left her a moment after that one whispered word, and the rest of the night had been a blur. She was sure it was only a matter of time before they went out.

 

Staring at the darkness of the living room, a part of Marlie's good mood evaporated as thoughts of her family and her new, upside-down life flushed through her once more. She wondered what it would have been like to come home to Veronica and Logan after that party. They would have both still been awake to assure that she was still alive and all in one piece.

 

"It's a little late, isn't it?" Veronica would ask while Logan would frown, perhaps saying softly, "How was it?" They would stare at her with a mixture of suspicion and fear, as if she were going to tell them something terrible. Maybe they wouldn't care that much, or maybe her dad wouldn't, because he usually wasn't too bad, but maybe. . . .

 

It didn't matter. No one was awake now.

 

A part of her was happy about that. She was responsible. She wasn't going to get herself killed at some party. She went up to her room, got ready for bed, and fell onto the mattress thinking to herself that it was nice living with an adult who trusted her.

 

But was it wrong that a part of her was a little sad, too?

 

The next afternoon Marlie picked Ben and Jason up from school. She called her mom on the way and asked permission. Veronica had given it in a clipped tone. Marlie had tried not to care; she took Ben and Jason to ice cream. It didn't go well. They were in such a good mood, so happy to get ice cream and see her, but they couldn't stop asking again and again, "When are you coming home?"

 

---

"How about Katherine?" suggested Logan, "Katie, for short?"

 

Veronica didn't reply.

 

"Katie Echolls. That's cute. What do you think? Veronica?"

 

"Hmm?" Veronica asked, looking at him rather distractedly.

 

Logan sighed and Veronica realized he was probably annoyed with her. They were sitting in the living room trying to make some crucial decisions concerning the baby, as she was now more than eight months along, but she couldn't help but be distracted. All she could think about was Marlie. It had been weeks since her daughter had left her.

 

Had left her.

 

How could she do that? She had told Veronica that it was what she deserved, that if Veronica were in her place, she'd want the same thing. But that wasn't true! Back in high school Veronica hadn't demanded to move in with Jake Kane! She had loved her father no matter what, even if he wasn't her real father. Because . . . because he was her real father, biological or not.

 

Was it wrong for her to want Marlie to feel the same way concerning her?

 

"Veronica!"

 

Veronica's eyes snapped back to Logan's face. She had gotten distracted again. "I'm sorry," she sighed. "I'm just. . . ."

 

"Thinking about Marlie?" Logan finished for her knowingly.

 

"Is that a crime?" Veronica snapped. Logan chuckled softly, looking away. Veronica immediately felt bad. Logan had been nothing but good to her these last few months. She knew everything with Marlie was killing him, but he had stood by her. And during that one fight . . . well, he hadn't exactly been right, had he? She'd talked to Marlie, and nothing good had come of it. Still, he was trying.

 

"Not Katie," Veronica told him. "It's too common."

 

"Jason and Ben are common names," Logan pointed out. "You didn't have a problem with them."

 

"Veronica and Marlene aren't common names," Veronica countered.

 

"Sweetie, honey, darling, dear," he said, leaning towards her as if about to tell a great secret, "you didn't pick either of those names."

 

Veronica snorted, rolling her eyes dramatically and telling him breezily, "Psh, details." He only shook his head, smiling, and pressed a kiss to her forehead before leaning back in his seat.

 

"So do you have any not common suggestions?" he asked lazily.

 

"I want Alicia to be the middle name," Veronica told him.

 

"Shocker," he replied. She frowned.

 

"What's that supposed to mean?"

 

"It means Marlene Mackenzie and Jason Wallace and Benjamin Keith have set a, what's the word now? Precedent. Middle names chosen after loved ones is your specialty, sugarpuss," he said.

 

"And once again, I repeat: is that a crime?" she asked, this time with a teasing note in her voice.

 

"Of course not. But why not use names of loved ones for first names, too? How about we have another Veronica? Because God knows we need another Veronica,” he told her, all seriousness. “We can call her Little V. She’ll be inspiring hatred left and right.”

 

Veronica made a cutesy face at him. “Yeah, hon, that sounds great. We’ll call her twin brother Little Logan.”

 

“But now that might get confusing for you,” he said, clucking his tongue. “There’s already a Little Logan in your life, Missy. He caused your current state, in case you’ve forgotten.”

 

“You mean this?” she asked, indicating her balloon of a stomach. “How do you know he did that?” she questioned conversationally.

 

“He better have,” Logan replied with a slight growl. Veronica only laughed.

 

“But of course Little Logan isn’t a part of my life right now,” she went on, “considering I’m a ways into my third trimester.”

 

“Little Logan can wait,” he replied smoothly.

 

“See, now, I’ve heard differently before. . . .”

 

When Ben came into the room and found them kissing, he made a face. “Ew, stop it!” he protested. “Cooties are contagious!” he exclaimed.

 

As they separated, Veronica told him, mockingly outraged, “You can’t get cooties from your parents!”

 

“Yeah, you can!” he told her earnestly. “Hannah says so!”

 

“Hannah says so?” repeated Logan, his voice in awe.

 

“Yeah!” Ben assured.

 

“Wait a minute,” said Veronica, “how do you know Hannah didn’t give you cooties?”

 

“‘Cause she gave me the cootie shot so we could be friends, Mommy, duh,” he answered.

 

“Well maybe you should have the cootie shot again,” Logan told him, “so that you can be friends with us, too.”

 

“We’ve already had the cootie shot,” Veronica added. “Twice, in fact. So we’re extra protected.”

 

“You don’t need it twice,” Ben told them matter-of-factly.

 

“Did Hannah say that?” asked Logan. “I bet it’s just because she hasn’t had it twice.” Veronica nodded enthusiastically in agreement. Ben seemed to consider, and after a moment he marched up to his mother and stuck his arm out to her.

 

“Do it,” he told her bravely.

 

“Magic word?” she asked. “These things aren’t easy, you know.”

 

“Please do it?” he asked, his eyes wide.

 

“Okay,” Veronica nodded solemnly, taking his arm in her hands, “Circle, circle, dot, dot,” she said, tracing the shapes on his arm, “now you’ve got your cootie shot. Circle, circle, square, square, now you’ve got it everywhere.”

 

“Thanks!” Ben said cheerfully.

 

“You’re very welcome,” Veronica replied, smiling at him as he skipped out of the room again, probably already having forgotten why he came downstairs in the first place. As she watched him go, though, she couldn’t help but think of the last time she’d administered the cootie shot. It hadn’t been for Jason. He’d never been too concerned about cooties.

 

It had been for Marlie.

 

That seemed so long ago. It was so long ago.

 

“We can get a list of celebrities’ names for children. There would be some less than boring ones for you,” Logan suggested, drawing Veronica away from her nostalgic thoughts.

 

“Sure, sure, little Tangerine Echolls will get along with the other kids really well.”

 

“Which celebrity named her kid Tangerine?”

 

“I don’t know; I’m sure one of them has,” Veronica told him. “Besides, we can’t be complete copy cats and call her Apple, can we?”

 

“Good point.”

 

There was a soft moment of silence. Veronica’s thoughts started to wander. . . . She had given Marlie everything. She had told her enough about her own past to keep Marlie from the same horrors but she hadn’t told her enough to jade her. She had always made sure she knew she was loved and cared for and . . . and it hadn’t been good enough.

 

“You could always talk to her,” Logan said. It took Veronica a moment to pull herself away from her thoughts and process what he said. “There’s so much she doesn’t know, Veronica. She doesn’t know about Lianne leaving you the first time and —”

 

“We’ve told her,” Veronica interrupted. “And we already had this conversation.”

 

“We’ve told her but we haven’t explained anything. She’s old enough to hear it. To hear all of it.”

 

“Oh, is that so?” Veronica asked angrily. “Should we tell her about you smashing in my headlights? Should we tell her about that whole little rape thing? She would —?”

 

“Don’t do that,” he cut her off. She looked away from his gaze. It wasn’t as simple as he made it out to be. “She can’t understand what she doesn’t know. She’s only a kid.”

 

“I dealt with paternity issues when I was a kid,” Veronica countered.

 

“Do you really want Marlie to have to deal with all the things you dealt with?” Veronica didn’t reply. She didn’t have to. He was right: she would never want Marlie to deal with any of the things she herself had faced. But. . . .

 

“If you don’t want to talk to her about it,” Logan finally went on, his voice soft, “can you talk to me about it?” Veronica frowned, looking at him.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“I mean . . . do you know . . . do you know who her biological father is?” He was staring at the far wall.

 

“I told you that —”

 

“I know you don’t know for sure, but I also know you have a guess,” he said, looking at her again. “We have to know, Veronica. If Lianne is back, what if the father shows up, too? What if I lose my rights to her?”

 

“That would never happen!” Veronica protested, alarmed at the thought.

 

“When you adopted Marlie you had to terminate Lianne’s rights to her, didn’t you?” he asked knowingly. “But you never did that for whoever the unknown father was, did you?”

 

Veronica was silent for a minute. “I think . . . I think it’s Jake Kane.” She’d never said that aloud before. “He’s her greatest weakness.” Logan didn’t have a response. “So . . . Tangerine? Or Clementine?” Veronica asked, giving a weak smile. She hoped Logan would accept the subject change; she couldn’t stand to talk about it all for another minute.

 

“Well,” Logan said, wrapping an arm around her, “whatever we name her, she’s going to know we love her.”

 

“Not if we name her Tangerine, she won’t,” Veronica told him.

 

“No, she’ll know,” he insisted, leaning close and murmuring, “the same way she knows.”

 

---

“I did it,” Veronica declared.

 

Logan looked up from the box he had just finished packing. “You did what?” he asked. She didn’t answer. Her eyes were scanning the Grand, which was currently filled to the brim with haphazard stacks of all his worldly possessions and boxes, some empty, some full, and some on their way from empty to full.

 

“Are you going somewhere?” she asked him, frowning slightly.

 

“I’m moving out of the Grand,” he told her.

 

“And going where?” she insisted. How come he hadn’t told her about this?

 

“I bought a house. It’ll be cheaper in the long run and it’s closer to the beach,” he said.

 

“You bought a beach house?” she asked. She really should have known about this.

 

“You could call it that,” he answered, and his voice had taken on a tone of wariness, as if he could sense that she was not pleased with what he was saying.

 

“And when did you buy this house?” she questioned, crossing her arms over her chest.

 

“Well, officer, I signed the papers last Saturday. I started searching for houses over two months ago, though, and I promise I’ve been thinking about this for a long time. And as for the time of the murder, I was at the Wal-Mart so my alibi is air tight.”

 

“Why are you joking about this?” Veronica exclaimed. “You bought a house, Logan!”

 

“Yeah, ah, I just told you that, so if I’m supposed to be surprised —”

 

“How could you buy a house and not tell me?” she went on as if he hadn’t spoken. “This is the sort of thing you tell me, Logan! I’m your girlfriend!”

 

“I just did tell you!” he said.

 

“You should have told me before you bought the house!” she snapped.

 

“I wanted it to be a surprise!” he finally yelled. “I wanted to get partially moved in and take you there on Sunday night and show it to you. Is that really so horrible? Can’t I try and surprise my girlfriend?” She didn’t say anything immediately and he took the chance to get everything out.

 

“Look, I can’t live in the Grand anymore. It’s a waste of money and it’s . . . I want a real home. School is out and I have nothing to do this summer. I figured this would be a good time to settle into a real house. When junior year starts up in a few months I’ll be all ready. I bought the house on the up and up; I did the hunting for it myself and everything. You have nothing to be angry about.”

 

“You bought a house,” she said, sighing. He nodded. “I’m sorry I got a little . . . upset,” she told him, “I just . . . I like being in on big changes in your life.”

 

“Understandable,” he said. “But like I said: it was supposed to be a surprise, Veronica.”

 

“Okay,” she swallowed, nodding.

 

“Okay,” he agreed. It was awkwardly quiet for a moment. “So . . . what did you do?” he finally prompted.

 

She frowned. “What?”

 

“When you came in here just earlier,” he said, “you said —”

 

“Oh, right, yeah, I officially adopted Marlie. I signed the papers and everything.”

 

“That’s great!” Logan exclaimed, smiling.

 

Veronica returned the smile. “It’s weird. She’s been ours all along, really, all these months, but now it’s official. If Lianne ever does come back, she can’t take her away. Marlie’s ours.”

 

“Do you think . . . do you think she ever will? Come back, I mean?”

 

Veronica looked away before she answered. “Probably not,” she said. “I think she would have come back by now if she were planning on it. If she does come back it’ll be because she needs money or something.” Logan nodded in understanding and it was quiet for a moment again.

 

“So,” he said as she began to pick through his stuff and he started packing up again, “are you her actual legal guardian or did you work out everything with your dad?”

 

“I’m her actual legal guardian,” Veronica answered. “It’s okay, really. Dad will help me raise her no matter what. And, honestly . . . after I graduate and I’m living on my own I’ll probably — I think I — I’ll want Marlie with me. So it makes sense.”

 

They had intended to have Keith adopt Marlie. He had been more than willing and Alicia had understood as well. But it wasn’t that easy. Keith wasn’t exactly rolling in the cash, he didn’t have a lifestyle conducive to children — according to the government, anyway — and he would be a single father who wasn’t a relative of the child.

 

But Veronica was a relative. Even if she was much less qualified to take on the legal guardianship of a child, she was the one who could, with a simple signature, make Marlie her own. It had taken a lot of research and a lot of time with Cliff, but this was what they had finally settled on. Veronica would be Marlie’s legal guardian, plain and simple.

 

“What are you thinking about?” asked Logan, taping shut a box and pushing it aside as he grabbed an empty one with which to start fresh.

 

“What I’ve gotten myself into,” Veronica admitted honestly. “I can’t believe I’m responsible for a kid now. . . . I’m not even twenty-one years old yet.”

 

“You’ve been taking care of her for months,” Logan said. “It’s not like anything’s really changed, right?”

 

“I know,” she said, shrugging slightly. “Still, it’s . . . it’s weird.” He nodded. “I guess I’ll never get to go wild in college, huh?” She gave a small smile.

 

“Well, let’s see,” Logan said, standing up and starting to tick off fingers. “You spent some time in prison, you got to know all the boys in a Frat house, oh, and there was that whole sex tape thing, too.” He smirked at her.

 

“Point made,” she told him, rolling her eyes. He watched her for a minute but she didn’t meet his gaze as she started to fold clothing to put in a box. So much had changed for her and for them in the last few months. She felt she knew him better than ever before. For the first time he was truly involved in her life. He knew her father so well it was sometimes annoying: they had their own running jokes now, to her outrage. He even had dinner at their house two or three times a week. He had actually started spending time with Wallace without Veronica, and he probably saw as much of Marlie as Veronica did.

 

All of a sudden she felt his arms wrap around her as he came to stand behind her. “I love you,” he murmured.

 

“You better,” she replied, so proud of herself for not shrinking from those words the way she once had. There were not many people Veronica could count on in her life; in fact, there were not many people Veronica even liked in her life, but she had long ago accepted that in addition to her dad, Wallace, and Mac, Logan was one of those people too.

 

It certainly took her long enough.

 

“And I was thinking,” he went on.

 

“Thinking?” she repeated. “Was it hard?”

 

“Actually, it wasn’t so bad,” he replied. “I might have been avoiding it all these years for no reason. Crazy, isn’t it?”

 

“Very,” she agreed.

 

“So, anyway,” he continued, “I was thinking about Marlie and you . . . and me, and I sort of have an idea.”

 

“You sort of have an idea? What does that mean?”

 

“It means I’ve been thinking about this for a long time but I’m still not sure how you’re going to take it. I’m going to say it, though. But don’t get all worked up. Don’t run away or anything.”

 

She turned around, slightly concerned. What was he getting at? “I’m not going to run away. . . .”

 

“I know you,” he said, “and you’re going to want to flee the moment I say it.”

 

“Then should you really say it?” she asked, wondering suddenly if he was going to ask her to marry him. Oh, God. That was it. He was about to ask her to marry him. She couldn’t believe this. Things had been going well, yes, but marriage? They were way too young to be married!

 

“Veronica,” he began, “how would you like to —?”

 

“No,” she said, walking away from him and starting in on another box. They weren’t even going to have this conversation. “It’s not a good idea, Logan. It’s not. It’s too soon. We’re too young.”

 

“You haven’t even heard it yet!” he protested.

 

“I know what you’re going to say and the answer is no.”

 

“So you’re not even going to hear me out?” he asked. She paused, taking her time.

 

“No.”

 

“Veronica, just listen!”

 

“No.”

 

When he opened his mouth to say something more she started for the bedroom. She could not have this conversation. How could he even bring it up? He had to know she would react this way; he had to. He followed after her.

 

“It’s not like I’m asking you to marry me or anything!” he yelled. She stopped walking away and turned to face him with a frown. “What?” he said, obviously frustrated.

 

“You’re . . . you’re not?”

 

He stared. “You thought I was asking you to marry me?” He looked so incredulous that she felt herself starting to blush. It hadn’t been that crazy of a thought, had it?

 

“Well . . . yes!” she admitted, feeling suddenly defensive.

 

“Veronica, much as I would like to marry you, we’re still in college. And there is no way either of us is ready to be married.”

 

“I know,” she said, “obviously.”

 

“And I know that you know,” he told her. “I wasn’t planning on asking you to marry me. And, trust me, if I were, it wouldn’t have been like this. Give me some credit, will you?”

 

“But then what were you . . . ?”

 

“I wanted to know if you wanted to move in with me,” he told her. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t guessed that. Of course he would think that; he had bought a house. Why wouldn’t he want her and Marlie to move in with him?

 

“Logan,” she said slowly, “I don’t think that’s such a good idea either. . . .”

 

“Why not?” he immediately demanded. “That way you and Marlie would be out of your dad’s hair so he could spend some actual quality time with Alicia, and if Mrs. Navarro comes to work for me she can look after Marlie when we both have classes.”

 

He made good points, but still. . . .

 

“Do you really think we’re ready to move in together?” she asked him. “And do you really think you could handle Marlie all day, every day?”

 

“I spend nearly all day, every day with Marlie as it is,” he replied, not even batting an eyelash. “And as for me and you . . . yeah, I do think we’re ready. I want this, Veronica, and it’s smart, too. You can’t live with your dad forever. He has his own life. Besides, if you and Marlie don’t move in with me then Mrs. Navarro will have to keep cleaning your apartment and I have to go find a new cleaning lady for the beach house and, let me tell you, hiring help is not one of my many strong points.”

 

“But I really don’t think. . . .”

 

“Just think about it, okay?” he asked. “It’s an open-ended offer. Anytime you want to move in with me, you’re welcome to. And if it helps, I took cooking classes. That was part of the surprise. I’ll still cook you dinner when I show you the house, but it’s not going to be a surprise anymore, obviously.”

 

“You . . . you took cooking classes?”

 

He nodded. “If I decide to sign up for glass-blowing classes, strap me to some train tracks, please.”

 

“So you bought a house and took cooking classes and . . . is there anything else I don’t know?” She didn’t expect there to be more. There was more.

 

“Your dad thinks it’s a good idea, which actually surprised me because I thought he would —”

 

“You talked to my dad about this?!”

 

He only grinned at her. “Just think about it. Take however long you need. When you want to move in with me, I’ll be waiting.” Veronica nodded. There wasn’t anything else to say.

 

The rest of the summer passed slowly, and though she helped him pick out furniture for his new house, helped him christen every room, and even helped him sharpen his surprisingly not bad cooking skills, he didn’t bring up moving in with him again until the summer was coming to an end.

 

She still said no; he still told her to think on it. Junior year began and everything was routine. Marlie even started talking, much to Veronica’s delight. It was around Christmas when it happened. Logan was over at the apartment playing on the ground with Marlie while Veronica made dinner and Keith read the mail.

 

She blamed it on Keith constantly asking Veronica, “Who’s your daddy?” But she never did understand how Marlie made the mistake. A part of her wondered if maybe Logan had . . . but he never admitted to it. She had read that children usually say particular words because parents encourage the sound, and no one, as far as Veronica knew, had encouraged Marlie to make that particular sound to that particular person.

 

But she did.

 

Logan got up to look at something in Sports Illustrated that Keith wanted to show him. Logan had gotten Keith the subscription for his birthday, and Veronica secretly loved watching the two most important men in her life bond over it even though she had never really pinned either of them as a sports lover.

 

Marlie did not enjoy the loss of attention, however. She started to pout. No one noticed. She reached out her chubby little arms, whining in the back of her throat. No one noticed. She wiggled, kicking a Barbie with her foot. No one noticed.

 

“Da!” she shouted.

 

Everyone noticed.

 

“What did she just say?” asked Logan.

 

“Who was she talking to?” asked Keith.

 

Veronica went over and picked her up. That wasn’t good enough for Marlie. She wiggled in Veronica’s arms, still reaching her tiny hands out and repeating insistently, “Da!” It was clear she was talking to Logan.

 

Veronica and Marlie moved into Logan’s house a month later.

 

---

“Could I ask you something?” she began hesitantly one night. She had been growing more and more curious, and she couldn’t help herself any longer.

 

“Of course, honey,” Lianne answered, smiling as she took a sip of sparkling cider. Dinner tonight was as fancy as it always was; Lianne didn’t work, and it afforded her plenty of free time. Marlie wondered how she had gotten the money, but it wasn’t what she wanted to know most of all.

 

“Why did you leave my father?”

 

Lianne froze, and Marlie was irresistibly reminded of the way Veronica had frozen all those months ago when Marlie had brought up the topic of sisters. “Your father,” Lianne repeated slowly.

 

“Yeah,” Marlie nodded. “I just wanted to know . . . something about him, is all.”

 

Lianne slowly put down her knife and fork. “His name was Craig Olsen,” Lianne began. “I dated him in college. At the time I had just broken up with my high school boyfriend and I was upset . . . I was a mess, really. Craig made me forget about, well, everything. He wasn’t good for me, though; he drank a lot and he was failing out of school. . . .”

 

There was silence for a minute, but Marlie was too afraid to break the flow of information by saying anything. It was just a pause; any moment Lianne would go on. . . .

 

“I left him for Keith,” Lianne continued at last, to Marlie’s relief. “Keith was . . . he was the perfect man,” she finished, smiling warmly and finally let her gaze land on Marlie. “But you know that. I’m sure you love him very much.”

 

“I do,” Marlie admitted quietly.

 

“I messed up that, though, as you know. After I was on my own again . . . around the time Veronica graduated from high school, I . . . I ran into Craig again. He had just gotten divorced, too, and he was so. . . . He made me forget, just like before. It was weak and it was wrong, but I was weak and I had done a lot of wrong, too, so. . . .”

 

Slowly, Lianne began eating again. Marlie waited for more. There had to be more. There had to be. “I moved in with him,” Lianne said after a few minutes. Marlie nodded, desperate to hear the rest. “He hadn’t been drinking for years and he had a steady job and he was . . . he offered the comfort and security I had missed for so long. He listened to me when I talked about how much I missed Veronica and he . . . he could be really sweet, your father.”

 

She swallowed the rest of her meat loaf and took a long sip of cider. Marlie opened her mouth to ask for more, to ask about Lianne getting pregnant, but she didn’t have to. Once again, slowly, softly, Lianne went on.

 

“But it turned out that he was with me for the money I had,” she said, so quietly that Marlie had to strain to hear her. A voice in her head, one that sounded suspiciously like Veronica, murmured darkly, Money you stole from Keith and Veronica. Marlie ignored the voice.

 

“He started drinking again and . . . and when I found out I was pregnant, I was afraid. I didn’t want him to hurt the baby — hurt you — the way he had hurt me.” Lianne was staring determinedly at the table cloth. It took Marlie a moment to process what she had just been told.

 

“He . . . hurt you?” Marlie whispered. Lianne looked up from the table with wet lashes.

 

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” she assured, forcing a smile as she reached out and grabbed Marlie’s hand in her own. “I left him and I ended up with Keith and Veronica, and they took care of both of us. I wasn’t very strong, but I was strong enough to get you away from him.”

 

Marlie had meant to ask more. She had meant to ask if her father had known about her; she had intended to ask where he was now. She had wanted to ask why Lianne had left her; she had wondered if Lianne had gone back to her father after leaving Marlie with Keith and Veronica. But the news that her father, her biological father, had hurt her mother. . . .

 

“It’s okay,” Marlie said, smiling at Lianne. “I understand.”

 

The rest of dinner passed in silence.

 

As she lay in bed that night, she grew angry. Veronica had always spoken ill of Lianne, but she had no idea what Lianne had been through! Had she even thought to ask, when Lianne was pregnant, about the father? Had she wondered why Lianne had run to them scared and alone? Probably not, Marlie thought viciously.

 

What kept her awake more than her anger, however, was her horror. Her father, her own flesh and blood, the man from whom she had come, had. . . . It was impossible. It had to be. She tried to imagine what he looked like. Everything her mind conjured was . . . unpleasant, to say the least.

 

It was 12:17 when Marlie called him on his cell. His voicemail picked up. She listened to his peppy little message, wondering if she should hang up. But she couldn’t. When the beep sounded, she let out a deep breath.

 

“It’s me,” she said. “I’m just calling to say . . . I don’t know. I just wanted to talk to you or something, I guess. I shouldn’t have called. Never mind.” She was silent for a minute, feeling like an idiot. But before she hung up the phone, ending the inane message, she whispered tearfully, “I love you, Daddy.”

 

Because he was her father; he was. She was Marlie Echolls, and Logan Echolls was, always had been, and always would be her father, and that was all that mattered.
 

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A/N: This chapter was sort of Daddy-orientated and I hope you enjoyed it! I'm sorry it took a little longer to post. My sister set up a new firewall on my laptop and it messed up all of my documents! I was lucky enough to save this story, but it had all sorts of spacing issues I had to work out before I could post. Hopefully now I'll be able to get the last few chapters up at a chapter-a-day pace. :)