Chapter 42

November 23rd, 2022, West Hartford, CT

Logan delayed getting out of his BMW for a minute or two, the need to gather himself by glancing over the latest images on his phone he had of Em delaying him. But he knew it needed to be done.

But then again, he'd never been particularly eager to enter that house, had he? Not when he was a teenager arriving home from one of his boarding schools for the holidays, often delaying his arrival as long as he possibly could nor later when being half obliged to attend some family event, expecting each time a tense atmosphere. He hadn't even really wanted to come the last time either…

February 3nd, 2019, West Hartford, CT

"Come on, you can do it," Odette encouraged by tapping his upper thigh, as Logan stared at the driveway ahead of him, hands firmly on the steering wheel of the rental Audi TT RS Odette had booked for him in the effort of cheering him up a little.

She'd even admitted that the attempt was probably futile, maybe even a little inappropriate. But she also knew that the passing of Logan's mother was not affecting him the same way it would've with anyone who'd had a normal relationship with their mother. Sure, Logan had been shocked to hear the news, it had made him thoughtful of his relationship with her - but he couldn't genuinely say he missed her. That was just how that relationship had been.

"Yeah, I know I can," Logan eventually replied. "That doesn't mean I want to," he added.

"Well I too could think of things more fun than this… but you know we'll get to that later," Odette added, with a hint of suggestion, gently moving her hand to caress the back of his neck.

"Later we'll have to be back on that plane to get back for that board meeting tomorrow morning," Logan replied realistically. He was actually feeling a little guilty for having put her through this - flying back and forth across the ocean in the course of 36 hours.

It was just recently since they'd been married that they'd finally truly began to accept this life together. There wasn't just endless partying anymore. They weren't grieving their loss of freedom either. They'd seen first hand how being together suited their lifestyle and made a lot of unpleasantness bearable. They'd even been talking about completing that life by having a baby together. So far they were just flirting with the prospect and having fun trying, it wasn't stressful or worrisome, and Odette hadn't been diagnosed yet. But that fun too was shadowed by Logan's business obligations in a significant amount - he wasn't even home that much.

"Well the mile high club awaits...," Odette joked, but there was also some disappointment in her tone, wanting to be put first for once. But she knew better than to demand that on Shira's funeral day and she wasn't going to - it was just that the humor she and Logan shared often allowed for some rather selfish-sounding and dark jokes.

Logan noticed a car pulling up behind him - Honor's - and he knew this meant he couldn't delay this any further. He might've felt very little, but he sure knew Honor was feeling much more strongly towards this. Shira, apparently, had not always been the kind of mother Logan had gotten to experience. He'd even contemplated that perhaps in some ways it had been him, something he did, that had affected his mother to change the way that she had and not to develop a real relationship with him. Honor had gotten lucky at the time, but now her grieving was a lot more real too.

Seeing Honor get out of the car, dressed in black and sunglasses on, both Logan and Odette emerged as well, going up to Honor to console her through a genuinely supportive hug. It was in that moment a buzzing drone flew over their heads causing all of them to look up on instinct. Apparently the death of their mother and the funeral was national news, it being evident that had been the paparazzi.

"Oh fucking great," Logan groaned, an led Honor inwards to the house, leaving Josh to get the kids inside. This was their reality.

Logan wasn't looking forward to seeing his father either. He didn't know how what to say to him or how to console him, but at the same time seeing him in this moment not needing much consoling at all as he was just chatting along with his friends, almost made Logan mad. But could he be mad if he didn't feel much himself?

It was to be a long day, accepting condolences and doing a considerable amount of faking along with it. One was supposed to be sad, regretful for not having made amends - one was supposed to be grieving. Logan didn't appreciate how he could tell his father was doing the same, he didn't like the parallels between him and his father this spoke of. He didn't want to be him, be like him. Yet his life was a hell of a lot like his had been, except for the fact that he lived in London and actually had a wife who had a sense of humor and interests beyond being a socialite. In a desperate attempt to find the silver lining he did think that maybe by having a child, a child he could actually raise, could set him apart from his father enough to change, to not go down the same path his father had. Maybe it was not too late to fill that missing part in his life, the deeply hidden void that kept on aching.

November 23rd, 2022, West Hartford, CT

While he still didn't want to enter that house particularly, he had already years ago begun to notice how the house itself looked less and less daunting. It looked smaller, though, of course, it wasn't. It had also seen the wear of time, and while the normal maintenance activities had still been kept up, the bigger renovations had been pushed and pushed for years both due to Mitchum's lack of interest and lack of liquid money for something the size of this. Naturally, Mitchum could've asked Logan who'd managed his money a little better over the years, but obviously he hadn't.

As he'd made it to the metal-gated door, he was greeted by Matilda, the older woman who'd run the household for at least three decades, whom Logan greeted politely. Other than the chef, maid, nurse and the groundskeeper who no longer lived in the house but came a few times a week, Matilda was the only one actually here full-time. It was a big change from the staff of twelve they'd had when he'd grown up in this palace, feeling like he was never truly home alone when it had been his home. It sure didn't feel like home, it felt cold and empty.

"Your father in the library," Matilda said.

"Thank you," Logan replied, handing over his coat.

The Velázquez was still there, as was the Buttersworth and the smaller marble statues, but Logan knew that there was a lot that had been sold too in between. But he knew his father to be too proud to actually allow his main entertainment space look anything less that it formerly had been, so to the untrained eye everything did look just as grand.

As Logan made his way along the vast corridor, which's sole purpose was to let anyone visiting his father's office in this house to really take in the grandeur of the house, he noticed the little things - the squeaks in the floorboards and tiny cracks of paint that he'd never really seen in this house before. The place was getting old.

The door to his father's study was ajar, hence he only knocked out of courtesy, sticking his head in at the same time.

"Logan!" his father greeted him. He seemed happy to see him, though Logan didn't quite trust it to be genuine, but he was pretty sure mostly the man was still eager to hear what he had to say since he had told him he was coming by to tell him some news that day.

"Dad," he reflected, shaking his hands as he stepped up to his armchair. His father was old and frail, and while he claimed that nothing was wrong with him - he was consuming a handful of pills each day to stay functional. The nurse was coming by to check his blood pressure and ensure he was taking his meds - apparently a man like Mitchum Huntzberger needed a babysitter for that kind of thing. That too had been Honor's doing, and it was safe to say Mitchum was not happy with the arrangement.

"So, you're stateside mostly these days, I hear?" his father said, casually, putting his book aside.

Logan could assume Honor must've mentioned something, it was her who somehow managed to keep up the polite chit-chat on a weekly basis even from London and all of her obligations.

"I am, and probably will be for a while," Logan replied, settling down on an arm chair opposite his father's. He'd usually hated when he'd brought him in here for a 'talk'. Usually he'd first offer him a drink, once even a cigar, claiming to be treating him like a man, and then laid all the heaviness of the family expectations on him no matter if it had been after a graduation or some stupid stunt he'd pulled.

"Oh, is that right?" Mitchum reflected.

"I'm in Boston," Logan replied plainly.

"And the business?" Mitchum naturally asked the most burning question in his mind. He'd spend decades making sure Logan was up for the job, so in a way it was understandable.

"Honor has got things covered, I'm not needed on site," he replied, hoping he wouldn't have to go into it.

Logan could sense his father's disapproval by his impression, and he knew he just needed to interrupt his train of thought or they'd never get forward from the topic. He could already sense them getting into a fight otherwise.

"I came here for another reason, dad," Logan said, enforcing his stance.

"Let's hear it then," Mitchum suggested, sounding very much like he couldn't really believe there were bigger issues than the business.

"I have a daughter," Logan spit out. "She's five years old, and I've have chance at being a part of raising her," he added.

"So you got someone pregnant and now she's offering you custody for a payoff, right?" Mitchum assumed.

Logan's impression was full of contempt.

"Am I not right?" Mitchum replied, pretending to be all innocent about it.

"No, you're not," Logan replied. "God, are you not the least bit interested in the fact that you another grandchild out there? That I'm a father?" he huffed, frustratedly. Not even a congratulations. He was almost beginning to think he should've just shot him an e-mail about this and not bothered coming.

"That's assuming you've run a paternity test," Mitchum muttered with contempt.

"I don't need to run a paternity test with her, she's Rory's… trust me - Rory would've preferred probably if the kid hadn't been mine in the first place. It's why I agreed to stay away all these years and keep this a secret," Logan admitted.

"Just if I'd trusted a woman's word on something like that you'd have several more 'siblings' eating into our fortune," Mitchum chimed as if it was something to be proud of.

Logan was grossed by him putting so blatantly, but it was not like he hadn't known about his father's affairs. He'd known far more than he would've liked to.

"Well if it counts for anything, they're not asking for any financial contribution. They're doing well on their own. If anything this is a chance for me to be in their lives again," Logan confessed, nearly admitting that this involved Rory and him also by now.

Logan would've liked to add that he was undoing a regret, but he couldn't really say that considering that the path he'd chosen at the time had indeed been in the best interest of the child - he regretted not being in her life and her not knowing him, but even with knowing what he knew now - how the bond with Rory was still significant - he still couldn't really imagine an alternative outcome during those days that would've ended well for anyone involved. The media would've eaten them alive. He wasn't sure they would've managed through that pressure and drama intact and healthy.

"Well, then what?" Mitchum groaned, noticeably feeling uncomfortable.

He'd come in here almost feeling sorry for the man, tentative towards even perhaps inviting him to join them for Thanksgiving, as Honor had suggested, but right now that sorry was turning into pity and contempt.

"Nothing, I just thought you'd like to know there's a little girl named Emma Lorelai Gilmore out there who's your granddaufhter, she's the reason I am choosing Boston over London. And if you ever want to meet her, you better adjust your attitude," Logan huffed, and with his head held high turned to leave, not even saying so much as a goodbye.

Logan was quick to recover from the confrontation - he hadn't gone in with high expectations in the first place. It was still disappointing, he'd at least thought there was some glimpse of a human in his father. But things were how they were. The trouble was that the feeling of insecurity, especially considering his inability to deal with tough situations with Em like had happened with the bedroom, only grew and he couldn't help to ponder how in the world was he going to manage as a father himself with a role model like that.