Unfinished Symphony (Logan 3)

We turned into The Egyptian Gardens and I stopped to take back my second bag of groceries.

"That's all right," he said. "I'll go up to your sister's place with you. I'm not in any rush. I'm not waiting for anything. I have an audition tomorrow morning and then I'll be hovering around the phone." He laughed and we walked down the pathway to Mommy's building. "You should see the three of us when we've all gone for something and the phone rings. It's a mad dash. Lately, all three of us have been disappointed, but my luck's changing. I can feel it." "I hope so," I said.

"Thanks. See, we can't be strangers any longer. You're already wishing me luck."

He stepped into the elevator with me and carried my bag of groceries to the door of Mommy's apartment.

"Thank you," I said as he put the bag into my arms.

"Just an added service we provide at the Bay Market," he replied with a soft, beguiling smile on his lips. "What are you doing with the rest of your day?"

"I'm . . cleaning," I said.

"It's so hot today."

"I have to do it," I said.

"When you take a break, come on down to the pool and I'll introduce you to some of the other tenants." "I'd like that," I said hesitantly.

"See you later then," he replied and started for the elevator.

I don't know why I said I might go to the pool, I thought. I don't even have a bathing suit. I put away the groceries and began to clean the apartment. From the gobs of dust and the cobwebs I found, I realized neither Mommy nor Richard had ever done much cleaning since they had moved into this place. The pail of water turned black from my dipping the mop in it after two or three swipes of the kitchen floor. The windows were so crusted with grime, they made the outside world look gray even on a beautiful day.

The bathroom was even dirtier. Stubborn mildew had formed in every crack and space, and when I moved a small rug near the tub, I jumped back a foot because of the size of the bugs that came crawling out.

Finally, I turned my attention to the bedrooms. The little balls of dust under the beds were like tumbleweeds. There wasn't any vacuum cleaner either, so I had to sweep under the beds and wash by hand the places the mop wouldn't reach. I didn't know whether Mommy would want me to go into her and Richard's dresser drawers, but .1 saw she wasn't folding her clothes any better than she used to fold them back in Sewell. I did most of our washing and ironing back then, too.

Clothes were draped over chairs and there was a pair of jeans and a blouse crumpled on the floor. While organizing one of her dresser drawers, I found a light pink two-piece bathing suit and I thought about Mel Jensen's invitation. It was still very sunny and warm outside and I was about due for a break.

When I tried on the bathing suit however, I realized it was very revealing. I was going to take it off and look for another, more modest suit, but all I found was another bikini, this one even skimpier.

I stood up and gazed at myself in the mirror again. The suit fit well. I was a little bigger in the bosom than Mommy so the top was snug. My hips were more narrow, but the suit was like new and not stretched. I turned around, gazing at myself from different angles, not unhap

py with what I saw. I didn't approve of girls who flaunted themselves, but I didn't see why I should be ashamed of having a nice figure. I could use a little tan, I thought, and conjured up Mel Jensen's soft, handsome, inviting smile. Did I have the nerve to go down to the pool in this suit? Just the thought of it was titillating.

While I was considering it, the phone rang. It was Cary.

"I tried calling earlier," he said, "but when the answering machine came on, I decided not to leave a message. You wouldn't know when to call me anyway. I'm in and out so much."

"I went shopping for groceries."

"Shopping for groceries? Where are you? What did you tell Ma? She can't remember anything these days. What's happening?" He fired questions at me without taking a breath.

I told him about my confrontation with Mammy and summarized her story quickly.

"So they sent a strange woman's body to Provincetown? I can't believe it. That's against the law, isn't it?" he asked.

"I suppose so," I said.

"What about the woman who's in the grave? Isn't anyone looking for her?"

"I don't know all the details, but there are a lot of people here who have left their families behind forever. Besides, I think it was mostly Richard Marlin's doing," I added. "Mommy seems . . . under his control, but I'm going to get her out of here," I said and explained why I wanted to stay in Los Angeles and try to save her from Richard's evil grip.

"Maybe she doesn't want to be saved, Melody," Cary said.

"I've got to try."

"Why? She didn't care about you. Look at what she did. If your friend back in West Virginia hadn't found that picture in the catalogue, do you think your mother would have ever called again?" he argued. "She was just like those other people you mentioned, people who forgot their families."