Unfinished Symphony (Logan 3)

"I'm thinking about giving him the shop. He'd never leave New York."

"Where will you live?" I asked.

"We'll see," she said flashing a smile at me. "I'm about to discover if I can read my own future," she added. "I've got some strong indications." She beamed and looked back at the house.

"I'd better get home," I said, uncertain if I should question her more. "We all have a big day tomorrow and thanks to Kenneth, I have to play my fiddle."

"That's wonderful. Yes, it will be a big day." She took my hand and we ran over the sand dune in our bare feet, laughing, the stars glittering above us, the ocean smooth and gentle and full of promises. It was good to be happy again, to be full of hope.

The next day, people showed up nearly a half hour early to be the first to get into the gallery. Grandma Olivia put on one of her finest dresses, and wore her string of pearls, her diamond bracelets and gold rings. When she appeared in the foyer, she did indeed look like a queen. Judge Childs came by for us, and in his dark blue suit he looked as handsome as I had ever seen him.

"I tried to get Grant and Lillian to come," he said referring to his other children, "but they were both too busy with their own lives. It's a sad thing when families grow apart," he declared, which was something Grandma Olivia seconded heartedly.

"Once you lose the ties that bind, you drift in the wind," she said. She looked at me after most of her deep pronouncements these days, making sure I took note.

Cary, Aunt Sara and May, all dressed up, were waiting outside the gallery when we drove into the adjoining parking lot. Cary looked very handsome in his suit and tie and May, growing like summer corn, was already over five feet one. Even Aunt Sara had put on something bright and cheery and had dabbed on some makeup and lipstick.

"They're just about to open the doors," Cary said as I got out of the Judge's vehicle. "Those people over there are reporters," he added, nodding toward a small crowd gathered on the sidewalk.

"Ken here yet?" the Judge asked.

"No sir. Haven't seen him."

"Be just like him not to show up," Grandma Olivia muttered under her breath. "Well, Sara, how are you?"

"I'm fair to middling, Olivia. It seems like only yesterday," she said, her pale lips trembling.

"Well it's not only yesterday and we've all got to get on with our lives. This is a very happy, wonderful occasion for the Judge. You shouldn't be here if you're not up to it," she said sharply.

Sara forced a smile.

"Oh, I'm fine. And May's very excited about it," she said, nodding at Grandma Olivia's granddaughter, whom she had yet to acknowledge.

"Tell her hello," she ordered and flashed a smile at May who smiled back and signed. Grandma Olivia didn't wait to find out what she said. She stepped forward with the Judge at her side. The gallery doors were opened and the people began to stream in, most greeting Grandma Olivia and the Judge before allowing them to pass through the crowd. Cary, Aunt Sara, May and I followed.

Neptune's Daughter stood in the center of the room, covered with a sheet. The gallery owner, Laurence Baker, was a tall, lean man wearing a somber expression. The way he moved, gliding across the room, and his soft-spoken manner reminded me of an undertaker. His assistants, a man about twenty-four or -five and a woman who looked to be in her midthirties greeted people as well. There was some champagne already poured on long tables and some cold hors d'oeuvres alongside them. People went right for the free refreshments and wandered about the gallery looking at the other works of art while waiting for the unveiling.

"Good afternoon, Judge Childs, good

afternoon," Laurence Baker said. "And Mrs. Logan. Thank you all for coming."

"Why wouldn't we come?" she snapped back at him. "Oh, I just meant . . . it's nice to see you," he said and slipped over to another couple.

The gallery was soon full and Kenneth had not yet arrived. I was beginning to get butterflies in my stomach, thinking he might have decided not to appear. What would we do? How would the Judge handle it, and with the big party all set, the food, the music? I looked at Cary.

"When you saw him last, did he say anything about not coming here?" I asked him.

"He didn't say he wasn't, but he did tell me he wasn't happy about all the fuss."

"You don't think . . . was he drinking today?"

"No. Holly was there with him and they were just spending most of the day walking on the beach and talking. Well," he said with a tight smile, "maybe not just talking."

"You didn't spy on them, did you, Cary Logan?"

"No," he said indignantly. "I could just tell from the way they are acting that things are going well between them."

I was about to apologize when we heard the crowd raise the volume of its murmur and turned to see Kenneth and Holly drive up to the front of the gallery in her tie-dyed car. Kenneth had put on a sports jacket, but he wore an old pair of dungarees and a pair of moccasins without socks. His shirt was opened at the collar.