Unfinished Symphony (Logan 3)

"Things are not too good here, Melody. I'm actually calling you from the hospital."

"The hospital! What happened to you?"

"It's not me. Dad's back in the cardiac care unit. He had another heart attack. I think he brought it on himself this time, complaining about being restricted, insisting on doing more than he should."

"Oh Cary, I'm so sorry. How's Aunt Sara?"

"You know Ma. She just keeps herself working so she won't think about it."

"And May?"

"Not so good. She misses you a lot," he said. "Which is about half as much as I do. But I

understand why you have to be away," he added quickly.

"I do miss you very much, too, Cary."

"What are you going to do now?"

"I'm not sure yet. I'll call you as soon as I know," I promised. "If you can, tell Uncle Jacob I hope he feels better."

"I will."

"And take care of yourself, Cary. You can't do everything for everyone," I said, knowing him.

He laughed

.

"Look who's talking. Guess who I saw this morning at the hospital?" he said. "Grandma Olivia. She couldn't help herself. She had to ask me if I had heard from you. I told her I was calling you tonight and she made me promise to give her the latest news."

"She's just hoping her investment pays off and I stay away forever," I said dryly.

"But you're going to fool her," he said and then laughed nervously.

"Right now I think the only person I've been fooling is myself," I moaned.

"I saw Kenneth in town this afternoon. I didn't speak to him. I saw him just as he was driving away. He looked . . . more straggly, if that's possible. I guess he's not taking very good care of himself."

"That's too bad. I was afraid something like that might happen."

"We're all just falling apart without you around here," Cary said.

"Oh, Cary."

"I don't know if I said it enough to be sure you believed me, Melody, but I love you. I really do."

"I believe you, Cary, and I do miss you."

"Take care of yourself and don't fall in love with any movie stars," he kidded.

"You don't have to worry about that," I said, laughing.

His good-bye was like a ribbon in the wind, lingering for a moment and then drifting away with the end of the phone call. I held the receiver for a few minutes after the line had gone dead, as if by doing so I could hold on to Cary's voice and my warm memories of him longer.

When I went downstairs for dinner, I found the air even thicker than usual, if that was possible. Philip uttered barely a word, eating and staring ahead as if he were alone in the room. Dorothy tried to make small talk, telling me about a new makeup she had discovered and a skin cream that made her feel as soft as a baby.

The food was a treat, a Mexican dish called a fajita. Dorothy told me Mexican food was very popular in Los Angeles.