He laughed and then grew serious.
"You saw how bad Grandpa Samuel is, I suppose." "Yes. It's as if something snapped in his head when your father died."
Cary nodded and tears glistened in his eyes, too. He swallowed quickly and then smiled again.
"Well, May will be very happy to see you, and so will Ma. Come on in," he added, stepping aside. He kissed my cheek again and we entered the house.
May was at Aunt Sara's feet reading and Aunt Sara was doing some needlework, her hands working mechanically, her min-of obviously elsewhere. Aunt Sara lifted her eyes slowly and when she saw me, her face softened into the most loving and wonderful smile, the smile I had wished to find on my own mother's face but didn't.
"Melody!" She put her needlework down and the action caught May's attention. The moment May saw me, her face exploded with happiness and she jumped up to run into my arms. I held her tightly and then she pulled back and began signing with such speed, I couldn't keep up.
"Slow down," Cary signed. "She's so full of questions she will exhaust you much quicker than any cross-country trip."
I laughed and stepped forward to embrace Aunt Sara. "I'm so sorry, Aunt Sara."
"I know, dear. He fought hard. The doctors said he fought until the end. He did not go 'gentle into that good night." "
"Not Dad," Cary said proudly. "He was a real Logan."
For a moment I thought about Grandma Olivia's words concerning family dignity and I smiled at Cary's pride.
"Come, sit with me and tell us all about your journey. Where are you suitcases? Has Cary brought them upstairs already?" she asked looking from me to him. Cary didn't say anything.
"I'm going to stay with Grandma Olivia for now, Aunt Sara. With Grandpa Samuel the way he is and all, I think she wants my company," I explained. It wasn't such a terrible white lie, I thought. Actually, I hoped it was true.
"Oh. I see," she said fighting hard to hide her disappointment. She forced a smile. "Well, she can do so much for you. Of course you should stay with her. That's very good. So then, that woman wasn't Haille after all?"
I looked at Cary, whose eyes told me he hadn't said a word to her.
"No, Aunt Sara, the woman I found was not the mother I was hoping to find."
"Oh, how sad." She nodded with a small smile. "But at least you're back here, home with us, with your family again. You must tell us all about California. I've never been there."
I sat beside her on the sofa and told them about my trip. May sat at my feet, watching my hands, and Cary sat in what had always been his father's chair, listening, his eyes fixed on me.
We had lunch and then Cary and I took May for a walk along the beach, just as we used to do.
"While you were away, May and I came out here often. I'd pretend you were with us. It was easy because she can't hear, so I could talk aloud to you. I don't know how many times I told you I loved you."
"I heard you each time," I said. He tightened his hold on my hand.
"Can you stay for dinner?"
"I think I'd better go back for dinner, but I want to see Kenneth this afternoon and I was hoping you'd drive me out there," I said.
He turned away quickly.
"What's wrong?"
"I was out there yesterday," he said. "Kenneth's . . different. I think all of it, finishing his big work, your friend's discovery of Haille, your leaving . . . all brought back painful memories, memories he was able to bury in his work."
"What's wrong with him?"
"He was drinking a lot. Actually, I found him sleeping on the beach, Ulysses whining beside him. I helped him into the house. He had obviously been out there all night."
"Oh no, Cary."
"I don't know if you should go there."