Olivia (Logan 5)

"He started the day after your wedding. Miss Belinda had left and he was alone. In the middle of the night, I heard him out back and sent Jerome to look after him. Your father had drunk too much. Jerome brought him in twice, babbling and crying something awful, but the third time, they had words. That's when Jerome gave him notice."

"And you're leaving too, I understand?"

"Yes," she said. "I can collect my Social Security now and I'd like to enjoy my old age. My sister, who lost her husband last year, wants me to come live with her."

I stared at her and she shook her head.

"I'm sorry, Miss Olivia, but with your mother gone . . . well, this just isn't a happy, bright place anymore. I'm sure you'll find someone else fast, but I'll stay as long as I can," she added.

"Thank you. Where's Jerome?"

"Oh, he goes to town when he's finished working his hours now, Miss Olivia. That's where he is. Your father won't let him do any work on the grounds anyway. He doesn't want him to touch anything . . . flowers, bushes, no trimming, no digging. As you can see," she said nodding at Daddy, "your father's been in a bad way, drinking too much. I'm glad you're home," she said.

"I'll look after him," I told her. She nodded.

"If you need me, I'll be downstairs."

"Thank you, Carmelita."

"I'm sorry, Miss Olivia. Your mother was the heart and soul of this house. With her gone . ."

"Thank you, Carmelita," I said sternly. She had made her point. I didn't have to hear it continually. She pressed her lips shut and left the room.

I knocked on the bathroom door.

"Are you all right, Daddy?"

"Yes," he said. "I'm fine. I'll just shower and take a rest and then you and Samuel can tell me all about your honeymoon."

"Are you sure, Daddy?"

"Yes," he said.

I thought I would go to the office and see how bad things were, especially what was left undone. Just as I started down the stairs, the front door opened. First her laughter entered and then Belinda followed, accompanied by some strange young man. He had his hand around her waist. She turned and they kissed in the entryway, the man's hands sliding down Belinda's back until he cupped her rear end and practically lifted her off the floor. She squealed with delight.

"Belinda!"

She broke away from him and gazed up at me, her hand going immediately to her lips, but her smile holding.

"Oops," she said and hiccupped.

The young man stepped back. He wore a yellow and white striped shirt and had long greasy hair. He wore a faded pair of dungarees and I was amazed to see that he was barefoot, too.

Belinda's light green blouse was open enough to reveal most of her braless bosom.

"Hello, Olivia. This is my sister Olivia," she declared. "Olivia, I want you to meet Bryan."

"Ryan," the young man corrected.

"Oh, right. Ryan. Ryan, this is my older sister, Olivia. She was just-married. How was your honeymoon, Olivia? Was it bumpy out at sea?" she asked with a light, thin laugh.

I glared down at her. She wobbled, tried to hold her smile and then reached for the side of the doorjamb to steady herself. I turned to the young man.

"I think you had better be going," I said. He appeared to sober up instantly.

"Oh. Sure. I was just . . . I can't stay anyway," he explained. "I have to . . ."

"I'm not interested in why you think you can't stay. Please leave," I ordered.