Unfinished Symphony (Logan 3)

attention to diction I didn't recognize. I waited and

called again just to hear the voice. It sounds like her, I

told myself. It must be Mommy.

Dorothy entered the parlor, a small white

angora cat in her arms.

"This is Fluffy," she said. "Isn't she beautiful?"

"Yes, she is."

"Philip won't let me keep her in the house

proper. She stays with Selena. He says whenever she's

permitted to run through the house, she leaves hairs

everywhere. He's so finicky about the house. If a

piece of dust is out of place, Philip knows it." She sighed and sat in the soft cushioned chair

across from me, the cat purring in her lap.

"So, did you try calling that woman?" "I got an answering machine," I said. "It sounds

like my mother."

"Did you leave a message?"

"No. I wasn't sure what to say."

"She might have been there, listening," Dorothy

said, nodding. "People often do that here. They wait to

see if it's someone important and then they answer. If

it's not someone important enough, they let the

machine take the call. It's a power thing, Philip says." "Power thing?"

"Yes, you just don't speak to anyone. It

diminishes your importance."

"I can't imagine my mother thinking that way." "Well, if this woman wants to be someone in

the industry, she behaves that way, believe me. I've

met enough of them."

I thought about it. What was it Billy Maxwell

had told me just before I had left New York . . . be

prepared to find a very different woman, even if she