Chapter 22

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We arrived at Logan's sprawling mansion about thirty minutes early.  I was anxious, to say the least.  Richard tried to calm me down, but it was no use.  A million memories came flooding back as we stood at the door.  Friday night dinners had become ingrained into my culture as a teen, yet this one felt very different.  I recalled several instances at the big house: the night Logan formally met my grandparents, the blow-out fight that ensued after I moved out without telling them, and the first one without Grandpa.  I think the latter was the worst of all my memories.  Somehow, I was dreading this one more.  Vivienne was a strong, stubborn young woman, who, no doubt, took after her father.  I knew she wouldn't go down without a fight, and this was something that wasn't going to be solved by some all-out war.  I didn't want this to tear us apart of have to choose sides.

"Mom, are you ok?" Richard asked, pulling me from my thoughts.

"I'm fine," I lied.

"Don't be nervous.  I think she's finally coming around," he said optimistically.

"Thanks, Kid," I replied.  Just breathe, I said under my breath.

Richard rang the doorbell before I could stall any longer.  The blonde-haired maid answered the door.  Déjà vu, I thought.

"May I take your jackets?"

We removed our coats and handed them to her.  For the end of July, it was remarkably cool.  I hoped it wasn't a sign of what was to come.  Logan immediately entered to greet us.  He seemed a little anxious for our arrival.

"You look lovely tonight," he said as he kissed my cheek.  On the other side, he whispered, "Relax, Ace, she's coming around."

Now, I've got two votes of confidence with my own vote overriding them both.  The pit in my stomach said something much to the contrary.  I wanted to believe them, yet I couldn't bring myself to reconcile their optimism.

Logan led us to the sitting room that reminded me of my grandparents' old house.  Viv was already seated on one of the couches.  She made eye contact with Richard and patted the spot next to her.  He looked at me for the ok, and I nodded.  He sat by his sister, who almost seemed to be gloating about the move.

"What can I get you to drink?" Logan asked.

"I'll have a club soda," Richard answered.

What the heck?  Am I living in some alternate universe? I wondered silently.  He never drinks that, but he's chosen now to start?

"Rory?"

"Martini with a twist," I replied absently.  It always seemed to do the trick for my mom, I thought.

"I'll have a glass of chardonnay, please," Vivienne responded.

"No," he said firmly, and she gave him a pout.  "It's different here, remember?"

I couldn't tell if it was real or fake.  At this point, I assumed it was real.  He fixed our drinks and rejoined us, taking the open seat next to me.

"Hey, did I tell you about the horrible things my grandparents did while they were here?" she asked Richard.

"Mitchum and Shira?" I asked, trying to make conversation.

"Not that it's any of your business, but NO.  My late mother's parents were in town to visit me," she said snidely.

"Oh, sorry," I apologized, forgetting that they were in town.  The words horrible and grandparents triggered Logan's parents in my head but knew that Odette's parents didn't have the best relationship with their granddaughter either.

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