Unfinished Symphony (Logan 3)

"Why is it so dark in here?" I heard Richard say before snapping on a lamp. The shock of light made me blink and rub my eyes as I sat up quickly.

"Well, well, look who's waiting up for us," he said.

"Why are you still up and dressed? How was your dinner, Melody?" Mommy asked. "You didn't drink too much wine or anything, did you? Did you bring Mel up here?" she scanned the room as if to look for evidence of his having been in the apartment. She wobbled a bit but took a step closer and focused on me with some effort, finally noticing how red my eyes were and the streaks tears had made down my cheeks. "What's going on now?" she demanded.

"Uncle Jacob," I said and swallowed, taking too long for her.

"What about him? I can't imagine anything about him that would interest me," she told Richard, who laughed. "Well, what did he do?"

"He died," I said. "His heart gave out at the hospital." She stared, the news having a sobering effect on her. I saw her face move through a myriad of emotions, from shock to sadness, to anger and then indifference. She smirked first at Richard before turning back to me.

"His heart, as you call it, gave out a long time ago. I don't wish anything bad on anyone, but I can't pretend to be terribly upset about it," she said, the mirth all gone from her eyes and lips.

"But you grew up with him and Daddy. You can't be so uncaring," I replied.

"You don't know anything about what my life was like growing up with Jacob as a so-called brother, Melody," Mommy flared back at me, "and I can't forget how he treated me afterward when all the trouble began for me and Chester."

The anger in her eyes stunned me so much I was speechless.

"I don't like anyone bringing bad news to Gina," Richard said, suddenly pretending to be very protective. "Especially news about her past, and especially the night before she has an audition."

"Yes," Mommy said, smiling with a proud gleam in her eyes. "I have something exciting to try out for tomorrow, a part in a television sitcom. I've got to get right to bed. That's why we came home so early," she added.

I looked at the clock. Early? It was a little past one o'clock. What was late supposed to mean?

"You should go to sleep yourself," Richard said. "You have a lot of work ahead of you, too." He laughed and headed for the bedroom.

"I do feel sorry for Sara and the children," Mommy said, her voice somewhat softer. "Sara was always nice to me." She sighed and pulled her head back a little as if to swallow back some errant tears. Then she looked at me with a small smile on her lips. "If you think you should go back for the funeral, it's all right. I . . . can't have anything more to do with them. Whatever tears I would spill would be one more tear than his mother will anyway. Believe me," she said.

"You hate her very much, don't you?" I asked.

The corners of her mouth whitened with her rage.

"Yes. I won't deny it. I do, and she has no love for me either, Melody." Her eyes glared hotly and then her expression returned to one of self-pity. She groaned. "I hate going to sleep feeling upset," she said as she turned toward the bedroom. "I wish you hadn't told me about it."

I watched her go in and close the door and then I rose and went to bed myself. Maybe I should return to the Cape, I thought. Maybe the mother I had hoped to find did die and was buried back in Provincetown. What had happened to Mommy to make her so selfish? Or had I been too blind to realize that that was her true self?

Mommy was right about going to sleep with sadness like a rock on your

chest, however. I tossed and turned, sobbed and sighed through most of the night, unable to get Cary's sad eyes out of my mind.

I finally fell asleep just before morning and slept so soundly, I didn't hear Richard and Mommy get up. I did wake when I heard him shout my way.

"Well, this is a fine thing. We don't have coffee made. What sort of a maid did you hire, Gina? Turns out she's lazier than you."

I got up quickly, throwing on one of Mommy's light cotton robes, and stepped out into the living room. Richard was already dressed and Mommy, dressed rather nicely, I thought, came out of her bedroom, too.

"I'll make some coffee," I said. "It won't take long." I started toward the kitchen.

"We can't wait," Richard said, his eyes fixed hard on me. I realized I wasn't wearing much and he seemed to be able to look right through my flimsy night clothes. "We'll get something at the studio. Clean up our bedroom while we're gone. I left some more of my things for you to iron," he added and started toward the front door.

Mommy looked at me, her face somber.

"Wish me luck," she finally said.

"Good luck."

"Thank you," she said, flashing a smile. Then she followed Richard out of the apartment. I listened to their footsteps disappearing down the hallway toward the elevator and then I went into the kitchen and put on some coffee for myself. I sat there, more or less in a daze, sipping coffee and nibbling on some toast and jam. Before long, my mind wandered back to memories of myself and Cary on the beach. I thought about Kenneth and his dog, Ulysses, and remembered first meeting Holly and the fun we had talking like sisters.