Unfinished Symphony (Logan 3)

What if she got her way and I became the woman she wanted me to become?

Would I become her?

Then surely, she would have her revenge.

Grandpa Samuel did not join us for dinner. When

Loretta began serving, I inquired after him. "Samuel's-not up to coming down to dinner tonight,"

Grandma Olivia said and began to eat her soup. "Isn't he hungry?"

"He doesn't remember when he ate and when he didn't," she remarked acidly.

"Well, that's terrible, isn't it?" I pursued.

"Yes," she said and paused. "I'm debating whether to have a nurse move in to help take care of him or--"

"Or what?"

"Have him placed in the home Belinda is in. The doctor will be examining him again in a few days and we'll know what he thinks we should do."

"Surely, he'll get better. He's just overcome with grief," I said.

She dabbed her mouth daintily and signaled for Loretta to remove her bowl.

"Really Melody, I don't know if we have room on our door to hang it," she said.

"Hang it? Hang what?"

"Your medical degree. I didn't know you had one," she said humorlessly.

"I'm just saying that it's possible, isn't it? He just needs some tender love and care. It's very painful to lose someone you love," I shot back. Sarcasm dripped from those thin, smug lips of hers.

"Of course it's painful, but tragedy and sadness must be subdued if you are to be of any value to anyone, including yourself. If all you are going to do is wallow in tears, you might as well throw yourself into the grave with your loved one. I may sound insensitive to you, Melody, but I am a realist, pragmatic. All the success, all that we have, is a result of that strength.

"And the irony is," she continued, "the weaker, more sensitive members of my immediate family are totally dependent upon my strength. Where would they be without me? Where do you think Samuel would eventually end up, and Belinda and Sara? All of them. Even you," she added.

She nodded at Loretta, who began serving the entree, but who looked terrified of doing anything that would interrupt. Grandma Olivia continued.

"I don't expect gratitude. I don't need to be continually stroked with thank-yous, but I won't be despised for my actions either. Is that clear?" she demanded.

I glanced at Loretta, who looked like she was waiting for my reply before she would serve me, too.

"Yes, ma'am," I said.

"Good." She began to eat while I poked at my food. "You may go visit Belinda tomorrow. You should, now that I think about it. Tell her about Haille. Give her all the details about her daughter. A good dose of reality might be beneficial," she said, nodding and smiling.

We stared at each other a moment and then we ate quietly, neither of us saying another word until we were finished. Loretta was there to remove the dishes in an instant and quietly announced that she'd be bringing out dessert momentarily.

"I'm tired and I've had enough to eat. You should take your time. Try the creme brulee. It's very good," Grandma Olivia said and retreated to the parlor.

I had no more appetite and left the dining room soon after her. When I passed the parlor, I saw her sitting in her grand cushioned chair, suddenly looking very small, exhausted and alone. She had a book in her lap, but she wasn't reading anymore. She was staring out the window at the slow downpour, watching as the sky poured out the tears she'd never allow herself to shed.

I went upstairs to my room, but when I reached the second floor, I heard a door open and close and saw Grandpa Samuel coming down the hallway. He spotted me and hurried toward me. He wore a pair of pajamas and a dark blue velvet robe, but he was barefoot. His hair was disheveled. It looked like he had been running his fingers through it for hours.

"Haille," he whispered. "I'm glad you're back."

"No, Grandpa. I'm Melody," I said softly with a smile. "Melody."