Olivia (Logan 5)

"I've been thinking about changing my color." Belinda got into the rear of the limousine.

Clara turned to me.

"Everything's all set, Mrs. Logan," she said. "We'll be fine."

"Thank you. I'll come by tomorrow," I said. "If there are any problems . ."

"There won't be," she assured me. Then she got into the limousine.

"Oh, Olivia?"

I lowered my head and looked in at Belinda. "Yes?"

"I almost forgot. There's a letter on my desk to be mailed out. I wrote to Adam Franklin. Finally. He keeps writing and writing and sending me presents. Would you see that it's mailed?"

"Yes, Belinda."

"Thanks." She looked at Clara. "If you want something done, you ask Olivia," she said.

"I'll see you soon, Belinda."

She smiled and I closed the door. The limousine started away. I stood there watching it disappear down the drive and then I went into the house.

Thelma was feeding Haille, and Chester was running through the house behind Jacob. They were pretending to be a railroad train.

"I'm the caboose and Jacob's the engine, Mommy," Chester cried as they passed me.

"Be careful, Jacob."

He gazed back at me with that serious face, his eyes telling me how unnecessary it was to give any admonition. They disappeared down the corridor.

I went upstairs and looked in Belinda's room. There was no letter on the desk. She had written one, I was sure, but she had written it three or four years ago. For a while I just stood there gazing at her things. I suddenly felt very tired. I was happy I had decided to take the whole day off. The last few days had been trying, going up to the clinic, making the

arrangements, doing what had to be done.

I wouldn't make any changes in the room. I was sure Belinda would go in and out of that clinic for some time. I closed the door behind me and went downstairs, deciding to go out back and sit for a while, and do something I hadn't done for some time: relax.

It was a crystal clear, beautiful day with the air just crisp and cool enough because of the light sea breeze. Across the sky long clouds looked stretched and wispy. A pair of herons circled above and then dove beyond the hill. Just on the horizon, an oil tanker headed northeast and off left, I saw a yacht much like ours approaching the Cape. The whitecaps glistened in the afternoon sunshine. The water was a dark, silvery blue.

I sat for some time just looking out at the sea. I was so deep in thought I didn't hear Samuel come home and come out to find me.

"Well?" he asked standing at the foot of the gazebo. "Well what?"

"How did it go?"

"It went well," I said. "As I expected it would."

"Did you call to see how she's doing?"

"No, not yet. They need time and they don't need us annoying them."

"When do you intend on visiting?" he asked. "Samuel, she's just gone today. I think we need to give them time to work with her, don't you?"

"It's just . . . I feel sorry for her," he said.

"You've Or to control your emotions if you want to do what's best for people you love," I said.

He looked at me with sudden interest.