Chapter 22 Logan
LOGAN
Lunch at my father’s place felt uncharacteristically chaotic in the best possible way. We were there to pack the house up, of course, but it was nice coming here, meeting with everyone like this.
It was even nicer with Nina here.
Maybe it was because the ladies were all in high spirits over the latest Scarlett Rush album release, and their giggly vibes were even impacting baby Sophia, who kept agreeing with whatever they said in high-pitched screams. Or it could’ve been due to Harrison letting Noah try a new flight simulator game on his phone that had the two of them cheering every few minutes.
My dad watched it all from the head of the table, beaming. It had been a long time since the halls of our house echoed with so much laughter, and it couldn’t have been more obvious that he was enjoying it.
It made me happy and melancholy at the same time. We were nearing the end.
The move was why we were all once again gathered together. We were still boxing up and throwing out decades of memories and mementos. It was slow going, admittedly, because of all the time we spent reminiscing about the good old days whenever a knickknack triggered a memory.
I glanced down the table to where Nina was seated between Emilia and Gwen.
She fit in effortlessly. Of course, they’d welcomed her with open arms—my brothers had found themselves incredible women—but they didn’t deserve all of the praise.
Nina found a way to relate to everyone she met.
It didn’t matter if it was a VIP on board or the porter whose job was to deliver bags to cabins, I had seen Nina connect with all walks of life with ease.
“Hey, folks, can we talk about division of labor for the day?” my father said in a loud voice. “As nice as this lunch has been, I know you’re all busy, and there’s still plenty to do today.”
Everyone quieted and focused on him.
“Today is important,” he began. “We need to take care of your mother’s dressing room and office.”
We all went silent.
My parents each had dressing areas off of their bedroom. When Mom died, my father had simply closed the door to my mom’s wing and never opened it again. The staff kept it tidy, but it was essentially a time capsule, filled with her things as she’d left them.
“Are you…are you going to help too?” Drew asked.
Dad’s mouth went tight as he shook his head.
“I prefer to remember the way things used to be. I trust all of you to make the right decisions. Before we get to the ‘keep or throw’ stage, I’d like the ladies to determine if there are any items in her closet that they’d be interested in for themselves.
She has quite a collection of couture, which you’re welcome to go through. Claim whatever you want.”
I noticed his use of present tense. My mom lived on in his heart.
“Oh, that’s so generous, but I’m not much of a couture girl these days,” Gwen said, glancing at Nina and Emilia.
“And I don’t feel right about taking anything,” Nina demurred.
A small reminder that our relationship had a deadline.
“I’d love to consider a few keepsake pieces, but I’ve seen how extensive her collection is.
I could take a hundred items, and there’d still be plenty more,” Emilia added.
“Givenchy, Halston, Chanel, Dior…what if we cataloged everything and then did some sort of charity auction? Maybe for a women’s shelter? ”
“Oh, that would be lovely,” Dad said as he broke into a smile. “Exactly the sort of thing she’d appreciate. But are you up for the challenge? That adds a layer of difficulty to the process.”
Emilia flapped her hand at him. “I’m all over it, no worries.”
It was a generous offer because my mom’s closet was more of a fancy warehouse.
It featured light-up glass-front doors that stretched on and on, and there was a chandelier hanging in the center.
Going through all the contents was going to be a big job.
Still, I loved the idea of my mom’s legacy helping women in need.
“Wonderful, thank you, Emilia!” My dad turned to the three of us. “While the ladies get started on that, I thought you boys could go through her office. Sort through the paperwork that’s there. And the safe. I want you to pick through what’s inside and take what you want.”
The safe where she kept her jewelry. Another part of her legacy that needed special attention.
“Of course,” Harrison said. “We can handle that for you, Dad.”
We finished up our lunch and headed for my parents’ suite. I hadn’t been in my mom’s wing in ages, so I prepared myself for the memories to hit me as we pushed into the beautiful space.
Harrison walked in first.
“Wow,” he sighed as he flipped on the lights. “I feel like I’m fifteen again.”
We all paused in the doorway and looked around the room.
Every inch of it reflected my mom’s vision, specifically her love of the color pink.
But it wasn’t garish. She and her decorator had included touches of the color in the room, opting to paint the ceiling a light blush pink and using a subtle pink toile for the curtains flanking the tall windows.
I could feel her in every choice, like her desk in front of a circular window that looked out to the gardens, and the small table with comfy chairs around it for meetings.
“I’ll take the desk,” Drew said. “I’m assuming her assistant probably did an initial cleaning and left the personal stuff for us.”
Harrison turned to me. “Let’s tackle the safe. Do you know the combination?”
I frowned at him. “I know it’s a birthday, but whose?”
We walked to the mirror that hid the safe, gently swung it open, and stared at the touch pad.
“Guys, you have to check this out,” Drew interrupted before we could try to open it. “Old pictures.” He held up a stack of photos.
“I’m not sure I want to see them,” Harrison mused. “I think we should stay focused, you know?”
We all understood his implication—that reminiscing over our mom’s special photos might drag us down and keep us from being able to get through the task.
“No, it’s worth it. Two words: Ocean Pacific.”
I groaned. “Oh no. Old surf stuff?”
“Yep,” Drew laughed. “Vintage style, bad hair, and awkward growth spurts, all in glorious Technicolor.”
We walked over to him, and he doled out photos to us, laughing over each one.
“Oof,” Harrison reacted like someone had punched him in the gut. “Why didn’t anyone tell me I looked ridiculous?”
I looked at the photo in his hand and burst out laughing. “You’re like a cross between a surfer and a wannabe 80s action hero. That bandanna is fucking priceless, Karate Kid.”
“And look at you, Logan,” Drew said as he handed me another one. “Big-time 007 vibes.”
I knew exactly what era he was referring to without seeing the photo. I’d spent about six months during my freshman year in high school wearing blazers because I thought it made me look grown up and distinguished. Being the youngest son had clearly impacted me.
“Where’s your blunder years photos, Drew?” I demanded. “Don’t pretend like the long hair era didn’t exist.”
He shuffled through the stack of photos. “Not seeing any here. Guess I was just always this cool.”
“Liar,” Harrison said, and he lunged for the photos to grab them away.
The resulting scuffle had both of them laughing until Harrison managed to snag a bunch.
“Found one!” Harrison crowed and held up a photo. “Drew’s emo phase!”
“Damn it,” Drew smacked the desk. “Burn that thing.”
I took the photo from Harrison. “It’s not that bad. Black nail polish and a black T-shirt with holes barely even counts as goth. It’s more like goth-light.”
“Mom wouldn’t let me dye my hair black,” he sighed.
“Oh, the trauma,” I mocked him. “Are you gonna write a sad poem about it?”
He pretended to glare at me then pulled out another drawer. “More photos, and lots of odds and ends. She was a little squirrel, hiding away treasures. Look.”
He held out a plastic gumball machine bubble with a pink-haired troll doll inside of it.
“I’m sure it had some sort of significance to her,” Harrison said. “I wouldn’t put it past her to have more of that kind of stuff in the safe, right next to her diamonds. Should we call Dad for the combination?”
I shook my head. “Let’s leave him out. We can crack it.”
“You don’t have to,” Drew said as he read a small piece of paper. “It’s in code, but it looks like the safe combination is Harrison’s birth month, my birth day, and your birth year.”
I chuckled. “Just like her to leave the combination to her jewels just steps away from the safe.”
“She trusted everyone. She only saw the good in people,” Harrison mused as he punched in the code.
The door sprang open with a metallic beep.
Our mother loved anything sparkly, and the four packed shelves in the safe proved it.
“Why didn’t Dad do something with all of this?” Harrison asked as he pulled out a tray of rings.
“Decision fatigue,” I suggested. “Should he keep them, or sell them, or give them away to friends, or auction them? It’s easier to ignore the whole lot. Plus, there’s the emotional baggage, since I’m sure there’s a special memory tied to every piece.”
“Like this one,” Harrison sighed as he held up a simple gold locket. “It says love knows no age on the back. I remember Dad gave it to her when she turned forty and she was all freaked out about getting older. If it’s okay with you two, I’d like to take this one for Gwen.”
“Of course,” I replied. “You’re the oldest, you should get first pick.”
“Eh, not so fast,” Drew piped up. “I remember Mom giving Miranda some pieces when the two of you got married. So technically, you already got first pick.”
Mom had lived long enough to see Harrison’s wedding to his first wife—but quite frankly, we all knew the only reason he’d rushed to the altar in the first place was so Mom could be around to see it. That marriage had been doomed from the start.
Harrison groaned. “After the hellscape of our divorce, you know I don’t like saying anything nice about her—but I will admit that she did the right thing when it came to the stuff Mom gave her. She returned every piece without a fight. But if it bugs you that much, you can have the first round.”
Drew held up his hands in surrender. “I’ve already got the one piece I wanted: Mom’s first engagement ring. Emilia adores it.”
They both turned to me.
“That leaves you, the perpetual bachelor,” Harrison said. “Until now. What do you think Nina would like?”
The question caught me off guard. They knew exactly how our relationship had started, but they’d also seen us together and were probably drawing their own conclusions about how things were progressing between us. We weren’t exactly hiding the physical affection at this point.
Still. Were we at the hand-over-family-heirlooms stage?
“And it’s not just about Nina,” Drew added. “You could be a girl dad someday. Maybe take something for a future daughter?”
“Whoa, whoa,” I laughed. “Who appointed you as my life planner? Girl dad? Listen, I’m good with Noey.”
“Liar,” Harrison muttered under his breath. “And besides, what does Nina want?”
“Well, we haven’t…that’s not a…” I stumbled.
“We like her,” Drew insisted. “Emilia wants to be her best friend.”
“Same with Gwen,” Harrison added. “And it’s completely obvious that the two of you have gotten pretty cozy. So why the hemming and hawing?”
I knew going through our mother’s office was going to dredge up all sorts of feelings, but I’d never imagined they’d be about my future with Nina.
Honestly, after months of damage control with Noah, just trying to get through each day one at a time, I’d kind of forgotten what it was like to look ahead and try to imagine the future. When it came to Nina, I was enjoying where we were, not focusing on where we might be going.
“We’re casual,” I finally said.
“Oof. Dangerous ground,” Harrison scolded lightly.
“Especially with Noah in the mix. He’s already attached to her, I can tell.
And you’re not acting like it’s casual, bringing her over here all the time.
You’ve got no guardrails, no defined roles, and that’s a recipe for things to get very messy very fast.”
I hated when he went into paternal mode.
“We didn’t have much choice about jumping straight into the deep end, you know,” I fired back at him. “And yeah, things are going well between us, but we all know there’s no guarantees when it comes to this stuff.”
“If it’s right, it’s right,” Drew shrugged. He started digging through the desk again.
“I can’t say either way,” I insisted.
I was lying to myself. Every time I’d glanced across the table at Nina, she’d caught my eye to share a secret smile with me. It not only felt right, it felt easy.
And that was part of the problem. In my experience, this was the point when everything usually went to shit, right when I felt settled and bought into the relationship.
That connection with Nina was stronger than I’d ever felt before, and that had me worried that I was in for a truly massive crash when it all fell apart.
And it always fell apart. I’d been burned, and my skepticism about what relationships were truly like now led the way.
Despite how incredible things felt with Nina.
“Will you just take a look?” Harrison demanded, pushing a black velvet tray filled with necklaces toward me. “I don’t want you to regret not taking something, okay? Even if you don’t wind up giving it to anyone, consider it a remembrance of Mom.”
I couldn’t argue with his logic. Owning a piece that she wore close to her heart was yet another way to keep her memory alive. I sifted through the various sparkly options, each one a passport to a memory.
“This one,” I said, holding up the Harry Winston necklace my mom usually wore to charity functions.
It was a cluster diamond necklace with hundreds of different sized pear and marquise-cut stones placed in varying angles on an invisible platinum setting.
At the center was a single, rare pink diamond.
The effect was like a vine of sparkling gems around the wearer’s neck, with a single blush at the center.
“Good choice,” Harrison said with a nod.
“Too pretty to just sit in your safe,” Drew added.
“I’ll keep your feedback in mind,” I said wryly.
I got back to work cataloging what was in the trays, trying to ignore the way I pictured each and every piece on Nina.