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    Logan 04 Music in the Night

    Page 6
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      a profanity.

      Everything always looked brand new to me.

      Every piece of metal glittered, as did every piece of

      glass. The windows were so clean, you couldn't tell if

      they were open or closed unless you walked right up

      to them.

      Grandma Olivia was in her high-back chair

      looking like a queen granting an audience when we

      entered the sitting room. She wore an elegant rose silk

      dress with a large cameo above her left breast, a piece we knew was an heirloom, handed down from her grandmother on her father's side. Her hair was pulled back in a severe bun with a pearl comb decorated with

      small diamonds.

      Grandpa Samuel sat rather casually compared

      to Grandma Olivia. He had his legs crossed, a tall

      glass of whiskey and soda in his hand. He wore a light

      brown suit and looked his usual dapper self. His face

      broke into a wide, warm smile as soon as we entered

      the room.

      "Here they are," he declared, "and a pretty

      handsome and beautiful group of grandchildren, too,

      hey Nelson?"

      Judge Childs nodded. He sat across from

      Grandpa Samuel on Grandma Olivia's right side. The

      Judge was a distinguished-looking, elderly man with

      gray hair shot through with some of his original light

      brown color. It was neatly trimmed and parted on the

      right side. He wore a dark blue suit and a bow tie.

      Despite his age, I thought he was still a rather

      handsome man. His face was full and his complexion

      robust, with wrinkles only across his forehead. He had

      light brown eyes that dazzled with a glow more

      characteristic of a man half his age.

      "Absolutely, Samuel. You and Olivia are very

      lucky people. Hello, Jacob, Sara," the Judge said. Mommy nodded and smiled.

      "We've got Bloody Marys, if you like,"

      Grandpa said.

      "No thank you," Daddy said quickly.

      "I know you like Blood Marys, Sara," Grandpa

      followed, with a twinkle in his eyes. Mommy glanced

      quickly at Daddy, who was as close to a scowl as

      could be.

      "Oh, I don't think so, just yet, Pa," she replied. "When are you going to loosen up that collar

      you have around your wife's neck, Jacob?" Grandpa

      said, and the Judge smiled.

      "That's an inappropriate remark," Grandma

      Olivia declared. "Especially in front of the children,"

      she added firmly. "Loretta," she snapped, "please take

      the children into the kitchen and give them some

      lemonade while we wait for brunch to be served." "Yes, ma'am," Loretta said.

      Grandma Olivia thought it was inappropriate

      for young people to sit and listen to the older people

      converse. While we were standing in the doorway

      beside and behind Mommy and Daddy, she had been

      looking us over. She nodded at Daddy.

      "The children look very nice," she offered Mommy, who beamed immediately. "Now don't go wandering outside and getting messed up," she called after us. "We'll call you to the dining room in a little while. Sit down, Jacob. You're making me nervous

      standing there like that. Sara."

      They moved quickly and Loretta led us away.

      She gave us the lemonade and then, as we had done

      many times before, we went out back to the gazebo.

      Cary stood staring out toward the ocean while I

      entertained May. Finally, he turned to me, his eyes

      narrowed as if he were in pain.

      "You go down a dirt road like that your first

      date with a guy. It doesn't look nice. It makes you

      look like . . . look like . . an easy target," he said. "I

      just knew he was going to do that; I just knew it," he

      claimed and turned back toward the sea.

      "First, I'm not an easy target, Cary Logan. I

      don't do what I don't want to do and we didn't do

      anything wrong, for your information. Robert is a

      complete gentleman."

      "Ha," he said.

      "You don't know him, Cary."

      "You'll see," Cary predicted. "Tomorrow they'll

      be chattering about you in the locker room and Royce

      will be bragging about how easy you were." "He will not! And it's dreadful of you to say

      that he would. You're just . . just jealous," I accused.

      His shoulders stiffened and he turned, his face turning

      pink.

      "What's that supposed to mean?"

      "You don't have a girlfriend and you don't go

      out on dates, so--"

      "So what?"

      "So, you're jealous that I do."

      "Dates," he said, curling up the right corner of

      his mouth. "Some dates."

      I realized that May had been reading my lips

      and watching my face. She looked very confused. I

      tried smiling at her, but she turned and looked at Cary,

      her eyebrows raising as she gazed at me again. She

      didn't see us argue often.

      "We'll talk about it later," I said.

      "There's nothing to talk about," Cary retorted. "Why did you follow us?"

      "Why?" He shook his head. "I went to the

      dance to see what it was like and then, when I saw

      you two leave early, I just knew I had better keep my

      eye on you. Lucky for you, I did. I can't believe you

      have the nerve to question me. If it weren't for me,

      you wouldn't have made it home in time for curfew." "You've got to let me--"

      "Let you what, Laura? Go on. What?" "Grow up," I said.

      He stared, blinking rapidly, and then turned to

      the ocean again.

      "I appreciate your concern, but I need my

      space, too, Cary."

      "Fine," he said through gritted teeth.

      He spun around and glared at the house, his

      anger spilling over like water boiling out of a pot. "I

      don't know why we have to wait around for them to

      stop gossiping. I'm hungry. We hardly had anything

      for breakfast this morning."

      "So, go tell-Grandma," I challenged.

      He pounded up the steps to the door, nearly

      ripping it off the hinges when he pulled it open. May

      tugged on my hand and started to sign her questions. "Cary's hungry," I explained. "He wants to see

      how much longer before we eat."

      She stared after him and then glanced at me, her

      suspicious eyes small and troubled. I lowered my

      shoulders in defeat. Why did my most wonderful, new

      relationship have to bring such sadness? Why couldn't

      Cary be happy for me? I was near tears and had to

      turn away from May before she saw my sadness. Whatever Cary did inside sped things along,

      because a few moments later, Loretta appeared to say

      it was time we came in to eat.

      It was as wonderful a brunch as ever, with

      chunks of lobster in Alfredo sauce, shrimp cocktail,

      delicious home fries, salads filled with almost every

      vegetable imaginable, and as usual, great desserts,

      including my favorite, the multilayered, multicolored

      petit fours.

      Afterward, the men went for their walk along

      the beach, Judge Childs and Grandpa lighting up their

      cigars. They took Cary along with Daddy, and

      Mommy, May, and I were left behind with Grandma

      Olivia.

      Mommy started to tell Grandma about my date

    &
    nbsp; and how pretty I looked, when Grandma suddenly

      rose from her chair.

      "I'd like to speak with Laura," she said,

      interrupting Mommy in midsentence, "if you don't

      mind, Sara."

      "What? Oh. No. Why should I mind?" Mommy

      stuttered and gazed about the big room helplessly.

      Grandma Olivia was already to the door of the sitting

      room.

      "Come along, Laura," she commanded. I looked at Mommy, who only shook her head, her eyes wide with surprise. I caught up with Grandma in the

      hallway, heading toward the back door.

      "Why can't Mommy hear what we say,

      Grandma?" I asked nervously.

      "We'll go out to the gazebo," she replied,

      ignoring my question. "I need some air and a little

      walk after that meal anyway," she said.

      "It was a terrific brunch, Grandma."

      "The coleslaw was rather bitter this time," she

      complained. We left the house, walked down the

      pathway to the gazebo, and sat on the bench. "Mommy and May should come out, too," I

      said. "It's so beautiful, hardly a cloud in the sky." I gazed down the beach and saw the four men

      walking, little puffs of smoke from Grandpa's and

      Judge Childs's mouths caught and dissipated in the

      breeze. Cary was a few steps behind the adults, his

      head down.

      "We'll send for them in a moment," Grandma

      Olivia said. "Now that you are obviously becoming a

      young woman with a woman's . . interests, I thought it

      was time we had a little talk, Laura. I don't mean to

      interfere, but I don't think your mother is prepared for

      this sort of discussion," she added.

      "What kind of a discussion is that, Grandma?" "A woman-to-woman discussion," she replied,

      "where one woman has vast experience and wisdom

      to give to another, younger woman. Although she

      would have the same good intentions, your mother

      doesn't have my background, my breeding. She's not

      as aware of the dangers."

      "Dangers?"

      I stopped smiling and sat back. I suddenly felt

      as if my wonderful brunch had all tightened into a

      small, hard ball at the base of my stomach.

      "I don't understand, Grandma. What dangers?" "You're interested in someone, I understand,

      and you've actually gone out on a formal date with

      this person?" she began, her eyes small, but fixed on

      me with that same intensity that stopped laughter and

      wiped smiles off faces.

      "Oh," I said with some relief. "Yes. He's a very

      nice young man. His name's--"

      "I know his name," she said quickly. "I know of

      his family and what they do. I know he's been to your

      home for lunch and you went to the school dance with

      him last night."

      My eyes widened with surprise. I smiled at

      Grandma Olivia's interest in my social life. She had never asked any questions about it before or cared whether I had gone to a school dance or not. I always thought that sort of thing wasn't significant enough to

      matter to her.

      "I'm sorry I haven't had a chance to tell you

      about him, Grandma," I told her. Finally, she and I

      would have a nice grandmother-granddaughter talk, I

      thought, and imagined she wanted to tell me about her

      own childhood romances.

      "There isn't much that goes on in this town that

      I don't know and there is nothing that involves my

      family and the family name that I won't eventually

      find out about," she declared. "I may not discuss it

      with you, but I know how well you're doing in school

      and how much your teachers like you. I know how

      you are a great help to your mother, and how you've

      been a respectful, obedient daughter. That's why I

      think it's so important we have this conversation," she

      continued.

      I widened my smile and nodded.

      "You're much too young to get deeply involved

      with any one young man, especially one who comes

      from a family of some questionable character." "What?" The little bubble of delight that had

      started to fill within me suddenly popped.

      "Don't interrupt, Laura. Just listen and learn.

      The Logans, and my family, the Gordons, go back to

      the Pilgrims, as you know. We have a strong, highly

      respected lineage. We are looked up to in this

      community; we are people of worth, status, and that

      brings with it more responsibility. We have been and

      remain models of proper behavior, models of

      respectability. My father taught me years and years

      ago that the first and most important and valuable

      thing you own is your reputation.

      "You and Cary have been born with a gift. That

      gift is your family name. You've inherited literally

      hundreds of years of highly valued reputation. It will

      open doors for you, gain you respect, and place you

      high on the ladder of status, but you have a big

      responsibility, Laura, and that responsibility is to

      uphold the respectability, the value of our family

      name.

      "Because of that," she continued, "there is a

      magnifying glass over you and your actions." She

      flashed a cold smile. "Up until now, you have done

      nothing even to slightly tarnish our family name, and

      I'd like to keep it that way. I want you to immediately

      end this acquaintance. These people are not up to your

      standard," she concluded. "I intend to discuss it with your father before the day is over as well," she said.

      She sat back, obviously waiting for my reaction. For a moment I thought the words would get

      caught in my throat and my voice wouldn't work.

      Despite the silvery, soft breeze blowing in from the

      ocean, I felt as though I had fallen into a furnace. My

      face was flushed, my heart, although pounding,

      seemed to have sunken in my chest, the thump, thump,

      thump barely felt through my body. I shook my head. "I don't know what you've been told, Grandma,

      but it's all a mistake. Robert Royce is a very, very nice

      young man, Grandma. He--"

      "He comes from a family of innkeepers," she

      said, practically spitting out the words, as if they were

      bitter in her mouth. "Do you know what an innkeeper

      is, Laura? How they started to be? These are people

      who had nothing, no family name, no reputation.

      Practically destitute, they open their own homes to

      strangers, clean up after them, wash their toilets and

      sinks, serve them food, cater to the wishes of

      complete and utter strangers, and worst of all, they

      contribute, are responsible for the pollution and destruction of the Cape.

      "Fine homes, beautiful landscapes are all being

      marred by these . . . these motel and hotel chains. Anyone who can afford the price of a cheap bed can come here and enjoy what we, who built this, who founded it, created and made elegant. You have no business consorting with someone of that ilk, Laura. I absolutely forbid you to continue seeing this . . . this

      person. He will only bring you down."

      "Please, Grandma," I said, choking back my

      tears, "don't talk like that:'

      She tightened her lips.

      "You must get a hold of yourself, Laura. You

      must become
    mature, strong, beat down any foolish

      little lusts and remember who you are.

      "Unfortunately," she said with a deep sigh,

      "we've already had a terrible time maintaining our

      family honor because of my sister and your Uncle

      Chester, but that has been remedied. We don't need

      something else to disgrace us and weaken our family's

      reputation."

      "Remedied? Your son has left the family. We're

      not permitted to mention his name in your presence. I

      don't understand all of it, Grandma. You never talk

      about him, but don't you ever miss him?"

      "He made a choice and one that is unfortunately

      best for everyone," she said sternly. "I'm not here to

      discuss the dead. I'm here to discuss you, the living." "The dead?"

      "Laura," she said firmly, "do you understand

      what I've been trying to tell you?"

      "No, Grandma, I don't. I just met Robert. I like

      him. He's been very nice to me and we had a

      wonderful time at the school dance. I didn't agree to

      marry him . . . yet," I said, and her eyebrows rose so

      fast and so high, I thought they might leave her face. "You would never marry such a person," she

      stated, her fear and anxiety deepening the lines in her

      face.

      "I don't judge people by their bank accounts,

      Grandma," I said. I meant it as a matter of fact, but

      she pulled her head back as if I had reached across the

      gazebo and slapped her.

      "I don't either, Laura. That's the point I'm trying

      to make and the point you're missing. Many of these

      so-called nouveaux riches are resort businesspeople.

      They have money, but they don't have class or

      reputation. They never will, no matter how fat their

      bank accounts become."

      "But . . . didn't you ever like anyone who wasn't

      from an old and respectable family, Grandma? Not

      even when you were growing up?"

      "Of course not," she said. "I wouldn't permit

      myself to like someone like that."

      "That's not something you can permit yourself

      to do and not to do, Grandma," I said, smiling. "It's

      something magical. Surely, when you were my age--

      "

      "I was never a foolish young woman, Laura,

      never like any of these empty-headed girls nowadays.

      My father wouldn't have tolerated it anyway,

     


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