Heartsong (Logan 2)

"I don't know."

"I don't think love changes. I think that it stays the same even though everything around it becomes different. I'll love you the same way when you're old and gray and I'm old and gray. No matter what anyone thinks Melody, I know it is right between us. Our love is special."

I smiled.

"You believe me, don't you?" he asked with worried eyes.

"Yes, Cary."

"Then, don't be afraid to love me too," he said. "No matter what your mother was or did. You're not your mother."

"I know," I said. "I just need a little more time to figure everything out. I want to be ready, Cary. I need to be sure.

He nodded and then turned back to the ocean. I stood by him and we both watched the waves dance with the stars until we grew tired and walked home, holding hands, silent, full of wonder.

I noticed something different about Kenneth immediately the next morning. Even Ulysses appeared changed, more subdued, as if he had been chastised just before they arrived to pick me up. Kenneth mumbled a quick good morning and pulled away with an awkward jerk that sent me back against the seat. He drove fast, the wheels squealing as he made the turn and accelerated, pulling around a slower car and going even faster. He never took his eyes off the road. I was afraid to say anything. Artists were so moody. One minute they were ecstatic, the next, they were melancholy. We bounced hard on the dune road because he took that faster than usual also. I was relieved when we finally came to a stop in his driveway.

He got out, slammed the door behind him, and then, to my surprise, instead of heading for the studio, turned and walked toward the beach. Even Ulysses looked confused, turning from Kenneth to me and then back to Kenneth.

"Aren't we going right to the studio?" I asked, running to catch up with him.

"No. I have to calm down first," he said over his shoulder, not even bothering to turn around.

"Calm down? Why? What happened?"

Instead of replying, he sped up and walked on. I followed, slowly this time, until we reached the top of the rise on the beach and he stood there gazing out at the ocean, his hands on his hips.

"What's this all about, Kenneth?" I asked, my heart thumping now. "Did I do something wrong?"

"Did you?" he snapped, spinning on me. His eyes were just as full of pain as they were of anger.

"No," I said softly, feeling shame flush my cheeks.

He smiled with disdain.

"Lying is just in the blood, is that it? It comes so quickly, so naturally to you people." He turned away again.

I couldn't keep the tears from climbing over my eyelids and sizzling down my cheeks.

"I'm not lying," I said.

"Really?" He reached down to take a handful of sand and watched it fall through his fingers. "Then you didn't go into my private storage room?" he said without looking at me.

I stopped breathing, the breath that was already caught in my throat choking me. After a moment, I found the strength to reply.

"Yes, I did," I admitted. The shame that had made me hot with embarrassment turning to cold fear.

He turned slowly, nodding.

"I noticed the hasp had been removed. Whoever broke in did a fine job, but in haste one bottom screw was left a little too far out. I wouldn't have thought anything of it, however, if, when I opened the door myself last night and entered the room, I didn't notice that the cobwebs were all broken and the canvases had been moved and not put back as neatly as they were. Got a good look at everything, did you?"

"No," I said.

"Did you take the hasp off yourself?" When I didn't answer immediately, Kenneth made the right conclusion. "No, you didn't. Who went in there with you, Cary?"

I nodded and looked down.

"I took you into my home, trusted you with my privacy, my possessions, my work. Now you can understand why I don't have many people out here," he said. "People." He spit the word as if it burned his tongue to utter it. "They always let you down."