Olivia (Logan 5)

She proved that in the way she recovered from Mother's death, returning to her philandering lifestyle with zest. Her wan, pale face of sorrow returned to that radiant visage that caused her to stand out like a vibrant, blossomed rose in a garden full of mediocre flowers. Even Samuel commented about it. The house reverberated with her giggles, her quick footsteps on the stairway, her telephone calls. At times Daddy looked shocked and surprised by her lack of sorrow. However, she was the only thing that brought a small smile back to those pressed tight lips and lifted the weight from his brooding forehead. I began to think she would replace Mother in his eyes. She would restore the music and the lightness and I was actually jealous.

For her part Belinda seemed no longer jealous of the attention my impending wedding to Samuel had continued to bring to our home. She was too happy again. I was filled with suspicions and trepidations. Surely, somehow, someway she would do something that would damage the family name just before my wedding, I thought. As always, I felt like someone staring up at the ceiling, waiting to hear the sound of the second shoe dropping.

Our wedding wasn't to be held on a yacht as Belinda dreamed hers would be, but Samuel surprised me one day with plans for our honeymoon.

"I've rented a yacht for us," he said. "We'll sail down to Hilton Head. What better place to be after our wedding than on the sea, don't you agree, Olivia?" he asked hopefully.

Samuel had come to my office, something he had begun to do more and more as our wedding date drew closer. I had actually been the one to work out a merger of his father's company with ours. It was more like a whale swallowing a minnow. Our appraisers fixed a value of just under a million dollars for the Logans' company, which was mostly tied up in their boats. I negotiated directly with Samuel's father and settled on three quarters of a million as the value and then made him take 90 percent of that in our company's stock.

"Oh well," he concluded, "it's all in the family now anyway."

Regardless of my marriage, I did not have documents written to that effect. Our financial interests remained separate and clear, but I did agree to give Samuel some managerial duties at our company and he was assigned an office. He complained that it wasn't side by side with mine, but he didn't complain very vigorously.

"One day the wall between us would come down anyway," he said. "I know it's what your father would like."

"We'll see," I said.

I knew it was always in Daddy's mind that someone would marry me and evenutally take the reins of our company. It was difficult for Daddy to envision a woman running his business, despite the amount of work I did and the decisions I made. He saw me as a temporary fix to be moved-eut and relegated to the house and child rearing.

It was during this dark period of his depression and despair that I worried about his capacity to make the right decisions concerning our company. Consequently, I had our lawyers draw up documents that in effect gave me the power of attorney and once I had that, I wrote bylaws that left me with control. No man, not even my own father, who I now knew to be my stepfather, would send me home to wipe the mouths of babies and change diapers. The sooner Samuel understood that, I thought, the better off he and I would be.

"That's fine with me," I said regarding the yacht, "as long as we have good weather."

"Oh, of course, of course," he replied beaming over my agreement. "I knew you'd like the idea. It's unique.

We're not just going off to some island hotel to languish in the sun. We'll sail and fish and explore together. I'm more excited about this than the actual wedding ceremony," he admitted.

I was too, but I didn't say so. Belinda was my maid of honor and some of our cousins participated as bridesmaids. The actual event did bring some life back to Daddy. His one big decision for me was to rent the Fisherman's Club for the reception.

The week of the wedding, the detailing of our new home was being completed. Since we would go directly there after our honeymoon, I began to have my things moved to the house. For the last few months, I had been ordering furniture. Most of it had already been delivered and set up. Everyone who visited claimed it would be a showplace. Nelson jokingly referred to it as "The Cape Cod Castle." He said he even envisioned me building a moat around it someday.

"To keep the riffraff away," he added.

"Too bad you won't be able to visit then," Samuel responded and they had a good laugh about it. I was beginning to wonder if Nelson had believed I thought too much of myself to ever consider him, not that Samuel was anyone more special, and not that he had ever really given me reason to believe there was even a shred of romantic interest. I was simply always looking for a reason why the man I could have loved as passionately as a woman should love a man never gave me a chance, even the chance he had given Belinda. Irony of ironies now: he was to be my future husband's best man and would be at the altar with me, but alas, only to hand Samuel Logan the ring I wished he himself would put on my finger.

We had a spectacular day for a wedding and the weather forecast for the upcoming week was excellent for sailing. For the first time in my life, it appeared everything was going to be picture perfect. Belinda revealed she was jealous of my good fortune.

"I hope I have a day as beautiful as this when I get married," she said, fluttering about the house, dressing herself, charging in and out of my room to make a suggestion about my hair, my makeup, and then rushing back to make some changes in her own hairdo. Anyone would have thought it was her wedding day and not mine. She was far more nervous and finally realized it, pausing as I calmly adjusted my wedding dress bodice.

"Aren't you excited?" she cried.

"Of course," I said calmly.

"You don't act it. You act like you're going to some business dinner. You're getting married today. Married!"

"People get married every day. There are probably fifty weddings going on right this moment," I said dryly.

"That's a silly thing to say. No one's getting married today but That's the way you should think. Who cares about anyone else? When I get married, the whole world's going to know it and stop to take notice."

"I bet it will," I said, but she didn't hear my sarcasm. Instead, she continued to flutter about me like a hummingbird until I finally had to tell her to go look after Daddy and stop worrying about me.

"I swear, Olivia," she said wagging her head, "you've got ice in your veins instead of blood."

She ran off to see about Daddy and I gazed at myself in the mirror. Did I have ice in my veins instead of blood? Was there something wrong with me because I wasn't giggling and taking deep breaths to calm my wild nerves? Even the thought of leaving this house didn't affect me as deeply as I had anticipated. I had grown up here, spent all my private hours in this room, dreamed and planned, had all my private little talks with Mother, and now, just like that, I was going to walk out that door, get into a limousine, be driven to a church and recite vows that would take me forever and ever away from these four walls. I should be shedding some tears, I thought. Where are my tears?

I leaned closer to the mirror and inspected my eyes. They were dry, bright and alert, hardly the eyes of someone struggling with emotion.

"Ready?" I heard and turned to see Daddy in his tuxedo standing in the doorway. "Today I give away my daughter. You look beautiful, Olivia. Your mother should have lived to see this."