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"What are you doing, Heaven? I've been searching for you for the past half hour," he called.
"But Logan, I was looking for you. Where were you this morning?"
"I was too excited to sleep and I didn't want to wake you. Isn't this wonderful? All this excitement, all this energy. When I went downstairs, Tony was already up and we decided to visit the factory right then and there so I could be back to spend the day with you. Oh, Heaven, it was so great! And the factory. . the main Tatterton Toy Store . . . it's marvelous . . . the way Tony has managed to create a system that maintains the unique style of each Tatterton toy. He has so many good ideas. I want you to hear them; I want you to think about them."
"Hear them? Think about them? What do you mean, Logan?"
"Let's go inside," he said. He was so excited he could barely stand still. He led me directly to Tony's office and flung open the door.
"Tony's a tyrant about his office," I warned him. quickly. "He doesn't like anyone in here unless he is present to invite them in," I said. But Logan didn't move.
"It's all right. He told me to use his office."
"He did?" I was flabbergasted. "What is this all about, Logan?" I asked. I was even more surprised when he whirled around Tony's high-back, black leather chair and sat down in it as if it were his own.
"What are you doing?" I queried.
He sat back and put his feet up on Tony's antique oak desk, smiling as if he suddenly saw himself to be a big-time business executive.
"It's all right. Really. Sit down."
I shook my head in confused amazement and sat on the soft, charcoal leather settee.
"Now, hear out all I have to say before you speak," he instructed, putting his legs back on the floor and leaning forward on the desk, "and promise to keep an open mind. Do you promise?"
I knew I was about to hear something I wouldn't like--some scheme of Tony's to control our lives. But I didn't want to burst the bright bubble of Logan's excitement. "And hope to die." I laughed.
He took a deep breath and then spoke. "Tony has made me an offer and I think we should take it," he said quickly.
"An offer? What kind of an offer?" I asked suspiciously.
"You heard him at dinner last night . . . all his plans for the company. Well, he can't do it all himself."
"He has very competent people working for him," I said. My heart was starting to pound. I could anticipate what was to come.
"Yes, but _he's very family-oriented. Like he says . . . what's the point in having all this if you haven't a family to share it with?" Logan said, holding his arms out to an imaginary brood.
"What does this have to do with you? You're a pharmacist, working in your family's store." I saw he was stung by the cold tone in my voice, but I couldn't help how I sounded, nor could I help how I felt. It was in this office that Tony confessed to me he was my father; it was because of what was said in this office that Troy had become my forbidden love. It seemed to me that Tony was reaching out again, interfering, changing things, trying to control my life.
"I know what I am. The point is . . . is it enough? Will you really ever be satisfied, after knowing all this wealth and luxury, living in Winnerow for the rest of your life with me working in my parents' store, the only future being my inheriting the business? Granted, it's all right, if Winnerow is the only thing we hope to achieve, but . . ."
"Winnerow was enough for us before we came here, Logan. I don't understand this change of heart. What is it that Tony is offering you exactly?" I asked.
Logan sat back, a self-satisfied smile on his face, a face that had suddenly become unfamiliar to me, unlike the face I had known for so very many years, a face filled with ambition. He straightened his shoulders and looked about the office as though it had been his for years.
"A vice-presidency in charge of marketing," he announced. "I made some suggestions and he was very impressed. They just started to come to me, Heaven," he said, leaning forward again. "It was natural. I thought about different kinds of outlets, merchandising, advertising . . it all spilled off my tongue with ease," he added, his face animated, his eyes wide. I stared at him a moment.
"You mean you would give up being a pharmacist?" I asked softly.
"Oh, Heaven, what am I giving up? Think about it. Think about what we could have; what we could be."
"I know what we have and I know what we can be," I said. I felt tears begin to well up in my eyes, but I fought back my urge to cry. "What would your parents say? They'll be heartbroken."
"Are you kidding?" He started to laugh. "When they see what I am gaining! They're not stupid. They'll work the store until my father wants to retire and then they'll just sell it."
I straightened up in my seat. I felt my pride come back in full dress parade, replacing my disappointment with flames of anger.
"Maybe it's no problem for you, Logan, but I'm a teacher," I said. "In my own way I am doing a great deal for the people in Winnerow. It was my dream to do something significant there, to continue to do something significant there." I sat back and pictured the hill and valley people in church during my wedding ceremony. I remembered the look of pride on their faces, the look of hope in their eyes. They saw something noble and caring in me and in my return, and now Logan was suggesting I simply walk away from my dreams.
