The Promise of Us (Sanctuary Sound #2) - Jamie Beck Page 0,80
two.”
“You need a vacation?” Like a boomerang, his father’s sarcasm whipped around on him.
Logan sighed.
“Sorry. Old habits.” His dad made a wry face. “The chain is called the Seaboard Guest Houses, but I want to change that when we take over. One’s up in Blue Hill, Maine. Then Portsmouth, New Hampshire. Up the road in Mystic. Then down in Lewes, Delaware, just north of Bethany Beach. Avalon, New Jersey, and finally Annapolis, Maryland.”
“I’ll try to take a trip up to Mystic before the transformation so I can enjoy a before-and-after reveal. Good luck.”
“Thank you.”
Having accomplished what he’d come for, Logan moved to stand, but his father said, “Wait. Your mom tells me you’re pushing your sister into some kind of charity project that she’s going to regret. I know Darla can . . . exaggerate . . . but what’s she talking about?”
That was a nice way of saying that Logan’s mom had a tendency to encourage drama. Of course, Logan suspected that half the time she resorted to it because she didn’t know how else to get her husband’s full attention.
“I’m not forcing Peyton into anything. I’ve been photographing her at least once a week, sometimes more often, since the night before her first treatment.” As soon as he started to think about the work, the fire lit inside. “She’s been journaling and I’ve been keeping other things, like parking stubs, prescription labels, etcetera. We’ve considered a cool installation at a gallery as a fund-raiser, but now we’re more focused on turning it into a memoir. I’d be happy to show you what we’ve got so far. It’s been a positive outlet—I think Peyton’s proud of turning something terrifying into something courageous.”
His dad rubbed his chin while nodding. “If you can do that for her, then I can’t complain.”
Not exactly praise, but for them, a lack of criticism equaled huge progress. “Thanks. The only hiccup could be my missing a few weeks of photo shoots if I travel to Greece, but I can’t control the timing.” He slid another glance at the Pulitzer. “If I find the right refugee story, I could help change lives for the better.”
His father’s politics were more conservative than his own, so he didn’t expect encouragement. “Your mom worries when you take off on dangerous adventures.”
“Can’t exactly find a great story in these surroundings, can I?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Look at the old Sunny von Bülow story. Or your sister’s project.”
Logan nodded. “Peyton’s message could help some people, but the refugee story has the potential to change the world and influence the way people think about bias and politics and immigration.”
“I guess that’s the biggest difference between us. You want to take pictures and change the world, while I’m content to keep our little world on track.”
Peyton had been right when she’d said Logan hadn’t appreciated what his father had done well. What he’d provided for them. “Thank you for finding a way to keep this house in our family. I know I don’t come home often, but I do love this property and everything it commemorates.”
“You’re welcome.” His dad cleared his throat. “Now, if you don’t mind, I need to get back to what I was doing before you showed up.”
“Sure.” Logan raised himself from the chair, taking his glass with him.
He left the office feeling as if he’d shed ten pounds. When he reached the kitchen, he ran into his mother again.
“You survived without bruises or a black eye. How’s your father?” She grinned.
“Also unscathed.” Logan set the glass in the sink. “Mom, make an extra seat at our table. I think I’m bringing a date.”
“Who?” A smile lit up her face.
“I’ll let you know if she says yes.” Before he became the subject of an inquisition, he turned on his heel and went in search of his sister.
Chapter Fifteen
Claire signed the last purchase order and handed it to Ellen Westwood, a young decorator at the Design Outlet in Hartford. The massive warehouse space housed hundreds of floor samples, from seating to case goods to lighting and accessories, which were what she’d need if she had any hope of pulling Logan’s apartment together in the quick time frame he’d requested.
Luckily, the store kept Sunday-afternoon hours. She’d never been here before, but she had known about it from her days at Ethan Allen. Her new attitude and recent outings with Logan had emboldened her, allowing her to attempt a drive to Hartford today—a first, and a true feat. She’d proven something to herself