Part I: Gossip

The rumors were flying again. They always seemed to fly whenever she was around, even if it was a funeral. It must be in her genes to attract gossip; after all, her mother, and to an extent her grandmother, did as well.

A couple older women stood in the back of the room, whispering to each other.

"So, of course you know the stories about the Gilmore-Winston relationship – how they went off to Europe then came back married after only dating for a couple months? I heard not long ago that it was because of she was pregnant, but you never know with this younger set."

"Of course, but you know, I heard that the girls aren't even Winston's."

"They had to have been. Anything else is preposterous, at least for her."

"Really? Don't you think she might take a bit after her mother? Let's not forget that little fiasco. Anyway, I guess he hadn't been home much in the last couple of years. My guess is that their marriage was falling apart."

"Yes, I heard he had been living in New Haven while she and the girls were staying here. They hadn't even been seen at the same events for at least two years. The story was that he was always away on business, but for two years?"

"Business. Really. I don't want to know what kind of business he was in, something illegal, surely. You know, some people are saying he had another woman in New Haven. I wouldn't have put it past him. He was the type who could have had a whole other family and nobody would know."

"So did he leave, or did she kick him out?"

"My guess would be that she finally got tired of his ways and told him to find residence elsewhere, but I've actually heard that she was the one who was messing around and he found out, so he told her to leave, then she pulled the guilt card, and he left instead of put her and the girls out in the cold."

"He would never be that kind. You know he refused to assist his own brother and left him destitute. Winston never had a kind bone in his body. Besides, she wouldn't have been out in the cold. Her grandparents are in Hartford, her mother runs an inn somewhere around there, and her father, Christopher Hayden, and his family are in Boston."

"But her grandparents disowned her after the marriage and I heard that she won't even speak of her mother or father, let alone to them."

"Really? Quite interesting."

"Oh, here she comes."

The two old biddies quit their whispering as Rory walked by.

Part II: Wondering

Meanwhile, Rory was pondering the appearance of her old friend. What was he doing there? He had never known Chad, or, at least, they had never been more than slight acquaintances. Chad had never liked any of his sister's friends and avoided them as much as possible, herself the exception.

Why was Logan in Boston in the first place? The Huntzburger media empire, based in New York, LA, DC, and Miami, had no interest in Boston, of that much she was sure.

She glanced around the room, trying to figure out where he had disappeared to. No sight of him. She desperately wanted to talk to him. This crowd was becoming suffocating. She felt as if she was going to scream if she was obliged to hear anymore false consolations or false praises of the deceased. Air, that was what she needed, that and coffee. The funeral home coffee was sickening, and she needed something that would put her more at ease. She glanced around to see her daughters in good hands then made her decision.

Getting up, she took her leave of the group surrounding her, claiming a need to use the restroom, and made her way to the back of the room, to the exit. She passed a couple of women who had no doubt just been spreading the latest gossip about her and her family.

Couldn't they just let a man die in peace, without gossip being spread about him at his own funeral? she thought. People in Boston society were no different than those in Hartford had been years before - vicious, lying, backstabbing dogs with sugar-coated exteriors.

She walked out the doors and into the brisk September air. Fall had set in early and the trees were beginning to color noticeably. Rory walked down the street toward the nearest coffee shop, thankful for the break from societal torture. Her thoughts returned to Logan.

What was he doing there, really? Had he just come to town for the funeral? What did his coming to the funeral mean anyway? Did it mean he forgave her for the past, or was sorry about what he had done? Suddenly she was overwhelmed by the memories of years past, things done and left undone, said and unsaid.

"I don't need this now!" she shouted aloud, not ready to deal with the implications her thoughts brought, not ready to face the 'could have beens', and 'should haves' that raced in her head.

She turned into the small shop and the rich smell made her forget. Coffee was truly the cure for everything, at least temporarily. She ordered, and waited for the woman behind the counter to hand her the cups, but her mind started to turn again. This time, coffee was the cause, not the temporary solution to her troubled mind.

The smell of coffee brought memories of her mother, something that had been happening more and more frequently recently. Rory knew she had to do something to cure the rift that she had created between the two of them. But not now, not until the funeral and it's fallout were over with. After that, maybe she could deal with the issues she had surrounding her mother.

Rory turned and headed back to the funeral home, walking slowly, not yet ready to go back in and face the artificial sympathy of people she hardly knew.