Chapter 119
January 15th, 2015
"No, I told you, we need Sebastian for the Toast account," Logan said, to the point, as he made his way from the elevator towards his office that day.
It was already nearly 7 PM, his last meeting having run later than he'd planned.
"Yes, he has an 'in' with them, he'll get us a good deal and doesn't skimp on quality just to make them like him," he continued to speak into his phone that was lodged between his shoulder and ear, holding his laptop and notebook in one hand and opening doors with the other.
As he made his way past the hallways, the person at the other end of the line still continuing to speak, he mouthed to a few of his workers in passing what his next directions to them would be. 'Go' on a project that had been pending for funding, and drop another, which had an impending lawsuit.
"Yes, Angie can handle that part," Logan replied to his phone. "No, I don't want some random intern to follow along. This is too big of a deal, with clients that are too picky for their own good, it's not worth the risk. Fill the intern in later, there's plenty to do at the office," he added, sounding frustrated of the person he was talking to.
"Alright, I'll talk to you later," he added, desperately needing the call to end and pushed open the door to his offices - his private office, his assistant's station and a private conference room he never had to fight anyone over.
"Mitchum called," Marjorie said, as he came to a halt in front of her desk.
Logan didn't like having the woman walk after him like his dad let many assistants do. Like his time mattered and their's didn't. He was passing her station anyways, so he always made it a point to come to a halt and listen. He knew it was in his best interest to hear whatever this woman had to say.
Marjorie was an interesting person too. She was part of the older generation, certainly, but she was more modern than that, even the way she dressed was far from the D.A.R dresscodes and rather followed the timeless trends of Scandinavian designers, that hung on her slim form by expressing her neutral yet brave character. Her hair was cut into a short bob, and wore her grey hair with pride, unlike Mitchum's assistant Natasha. Marjorie was real.
"Ah..," Logan exhaled, reluctantly.
"But I told him you were working on the Maxwell project and he left a message, saying he'll be by on Monday," Marjorie told him.
Logan smiled, appreciatively.
"There were a few other things, but those can wait till Monday," she added, having been doing this long enough to make those decisions and Logan was utterly grateful she did. He even knew why Marjorie held off on the details on Fridays. She knew he wouldn't stop until he'd answered every e-mail and returned every call. And the only way to get him out of the door was if she regulated what she put on him.
It wasn't about him being a workaholic, it was about being on a roll and it being difficult to stop. It was about feeling responsible for his work and employees and loving when a plan came together. It was about not wanting to leave his workers at the office alone on a Friday evening. But this evening was different and Marjorie knew it.
"The car should be down in 10," Marjorie simply added.
"Great, thanks," he replied, and was about to step towards his office to change quickly out of his work clothes to change to something fresher and put away his things.
"Oh, and could you call..," he began to instruct, realizing he was running late.
"I already did," Marjorie replied. "She'll be in the car," she added, referring to Ms. Gilmore.
Of course she did - Logan thought and sighed at the prospect, and smiled in response.
February 2nd, 2022
Logan was on the I-90 heading West towards Boston. His car stereo blasted a Dyan 'Looking for Knives' inspired playlist - a little eerie, with a particular feeling of something more to come, excitement, in its essence. He'd been experimenting with playing different music around Loki, who was currently in his cage in the back seat, wanting to understand better what he did hear. He'd noted that he did hear something - but he wasn't quite sure if it was something audible to him or not.
Thankfully the puppy was quite happy with car rides by now, especially when he had his favorite chew toy with him. Logan had considered leaving him at the kennel for the day, but figured he'd needed to give their first joint road trip a try at least. He'd seen people travel with their dogs all the time, there were plenty of restaurants and offices that allowed them and he'd made sure all the places where he needed to go that day were welcoming.
In his mind he was going over a list of things he needed to talk tomorrow to his contractor about - more specifically the fence he was going to have to pick out. He wanted it to look friendly - not like prison gates or the gates of her mother's house, but safe enough for Loki.
Suddenly, his thoughts were interrupted by an incoming call. An unknown number of all things, but since there were a lot of unfamiliar people calling him these days on a range of subjects about his business to having someone come over to the house to measure something, he picked up without hesitance.
"This is Logan," he answered, having knowingly made a change from answering his phone with a sharp "Huntzberger," that was still kind of in his muscle memory. But he didn't want to intimidate people like the name did. He wanted to be approachable, friendly and trustworthy.
"Hi Mr. Huntzberger. It's Susie from Focus Real Estate. I have Mrs. Farrell on the line for you, please hold," the voice of a 20-something secretary said, making Logan's eyes roll. Apparently his realtor didn't even bother calling him herself. But he decided not to dwell on it, knowing people did all sorts of strange things to make themselves feel important and validated, especially the insecure ones.
Thankfully the hold was brief.
"Mr. Huntzberger, I have some good news for you," Mrs. Farrell announced. The 50-something realtor who reminded him of one of her mother's tennis partners from the time he was growing up by her appearance. The woman certainly had plenty of experience with sales in the Vineyard and that was the reason he'd chosen her. But other than a quick phone conference, he'd never met the woman, just guided her through the Vineyard house with the help of the housekeeper that had minimally cared for the place for decades. The place had just been forgotten about, minimal maintenance kept up - essentially cleaning, making sure there was no storm damage and keeping the place heated. But since nobody hadn't had really any interest in the place, any additional work hadn't seemed like a priority. Running construction even from afar required that mental capacity he just hadn't had for years.
"Yeah?" he asked. "We have an offer on your house," Mrs. Farrell said, her natural registry of her voice being slightly nasal.
"Great," Logan exhaled, already having sensed some tension with the ongoing construction.
"They're offering the asking price, and would appreciate property to be vacated as soon as possible," the woman continued.
"Hmm..," Logan responded, having not quite expected a transaction neither that quick nor without bargaining. This much he knew himself about real estate - if a place had been on the market for more than a month it generally meant that was the basis for bargaining in itself. "You wouldn't be able to give me the name of the buyer, would you?" Logan asked, having a sneaky feeling that perhaps Christopher was behind this.
He wasn't sure, however, but he would've preferred it to be someone else, already feeling like he was offering them enough charity, even if it was in the form of a loan, technically. He hadn't entirely ruled out the option of the buyer being Honor either, but surely she at least wouldn't have gone through the realtor.
"The buyer has requested to stay anonymous, that's one of their conditions," Mrs. Farrell replied.
"Right," Logan sighed. "I'm particularly curious whether this person might be one Mr. Hayden, you see," he hoped to pry it out of her.
"I'm not at liberty to say, I'm afraid. There was a clause on your contract where you were requested to list all the conditions to your sellers, that would've been the place to limit buyers by name. At this point we're just going to have to formulate a response to the offer, but I do encourage you to consider it. The new development over at Oak Bluffs is a major draw, hardly any of the older houses are selling right now, it's really a tough market," Mrs. Farrell continued to explain.
People buying properties anonymously at Martha's Vineyard was really nothing out of the ordinary. This was what many famous people did, wanting their holiday homes to remain private. Same went for many companies who intended to use these properties for tax schemes. So Christopher really wasn't the only realistic buyer if he really thought about it, figuring Christopher understood that Rory wasn't really a fan of that possible development from the drive a little more than a week ago. For example, he could imagine that some people might be interested in the property because they knew it had once belonged to the Huntzbergers. For some people these stories that came with their houses were a huge selling argument, like buying things Martha Stewart wanted from right under her nose had been for Mitchum. He didn't see the logic, but he didn't want to dwell on it either.
"Alright, I'll think about it and get back to you, okay?" Logan said, and they agreed on her sending her the official offer before ending the call.
Logan was already approaching the suburbs of Boston when he glanced back towards the backseat that now held both a carseat and Loki's cage, and noted the dog being fast asleep.
He was pretty sure he was going to sell - what else was he going to do? It was not like he had a lot of offers laying around and he really wanted that independence to make quality decisions on the house renovation. He missed that freedom of not having to plan his money that carefully, he had to admit, but this was exactly what he wanted. Selling that place was his financial freedom. Becoming a homeowner, debt free, paying for their wedding, maybe even whisking Rory away for their honeymoon. They hadn't really talked about it, but he did recall from ages ago how he owed her a tour of Asia, at least a part of it. But he had other ideas as well.
He wanted his child, if there ever was one, to be set up with funds for school and college, a little trust fund. In his mind this was never about having him or her grow up with a silver spoon in their mouth but rather about them having all the options open to them, quite on the contrary compared to what he'd had. He wanted that versatility and resilience that Lorelai's household had - spork city, like she'd once called it, but with the added bonus of never having to not grab at an opportunity because of the lack of money. The rest… the rest he could just make happen himself, by working hard and making the money he would have from this sale, grow by sensible investments.
His phone rang again, this time waking Loki, who let out a broad yawn and stretched himself out. Logan knew it'd be time for a quick toilet break for the puppy soon, and hoped to make it to the smaller roads in a few minutes.
"Hey!" Logan answered Colin's call. He was meeting a few of his employees later that day, but first and foremost he had a lunch planned with Colin, wanting to catch up.
"Hey, Logan," Colin said. "I hate to do this, but I'm getting called to court," he added. So much for their lunch plans.
"It's alright man, if anyone knows how time can get out of your hands it's me, okay?" Logan replied, still feeling like he'd let his buddies down way more times than would've been forgivable.
"If there's anything time-sensitive, you can just text me, okay?" Colin asked, being used to the fact that they very often combined business and pleasure when they talked. He didn't mind, their relationship always having been sort of a combination of the two.
"I just wondered whether you had a phone number from last year," Logan said, wanting to put it out there. Maybe he didn't have it, then he wouldn't have to bother him with it further.
"Who's?" Colin asked, sounding surprised. 'Last year' usually was the off limits topic.
"Marjorie's actually, I just wanted to check in," Logan replied.
"I think I have it somewhere, I'll send it when I find it," Colin promised.
They agreed to catch up some other time, Logan suggesting he come and see the house if he had time and that maybe he'd even make a housewarming party out of it.
Having now some time to spare before his meetings, he took the next exit, recalling there being a few parks near Hunnewell Hill.
The dog park was surprisingly easy to find, and Loki's sporadic barks from the back seat were already announcing his limit having been reached of being stuck in his cage through the drive.
"Come on, Loki," Logan said, speaking to the dog even couldn't really hear him. "Lets get that leash on you and we get to go explore a bit, okay," he said, and rubbed his nose the way he liked it as praise for hanging in there.
Walking with Loki on a leash wasn't like he'd imagined, at least so far, Loki pulling in every direction imaginable, but not the way it seemed the most reasonable for Logan to go, so he just went along with it, knowing that proper leash training he had planned for this weekend at the Puppy School.
They took their time, not being in a hurry, eventually reaching the actual dog park where dogs could also be let off their leashes. Loki was vaccinated and there were no big scary-looking dogs in the park presently, just a small spaniel with their owner sitting on one of the benches in, her nose in her phone.
Logan made sure the gate was closed and let Loki off his leash, encouraging him to go explore. He was curious, no doubt, but also a little skeptical of going anywhere far from him, which meant that he needed to tag along casually as he went.
His phone beeped. Colin had sent over Marjorie's cell-phone number and Logan felt relief. Thinking back, he felt like he'd betrayed her, despite the financial compensation. But he wasn't sure if all of her caring had just been what she'd considered part of her job description or part of her character. Either way he felt like he owed her an apology and to express his gratitude for all those years.
As he'd followed Loki closer and closer to the Spaniel, he also noted the other owner rise from her seat. It was the type of woman that he truly despised, solely judging by her outfit of leopard print puffer jacket, bold Adidas leggings and hay-like over-bleached hair. He knew better than to judge someone by their appearance, but he really wasn't interested in finding out or worse dodge flirting-advances, and after quickly nodding as a greeting he pulled out his phone, deciding to make the call right here, considering Loki was looking less and less frightened and had already began to interact with the Spaniel quite innocently.
As the phone rang, he quickly glanced at the time, and did the math in his head to London time, having not done that in a while. It was the perfect time to call, just at the end of a work-day, not too late.
"Hello?" the familiar voice answered.
"Marjorie Dunham?" Logan asked, wondering if she would recognize his voice just as easily.
"This is she," Marjorie replied.
"It's Logan Huntzberger," he said, but was unsure how to continue, and took a few steps away from the other dog owner's earshot, still keeping an eye on Loki the entire time. He wanted some indication whether his call was even a welcome one.
"Oh, Mr. Huntzberger. I'm so glad to hear from you!" Marjorie exhaled, sounding genuine.
"I'm glad to hear your voice too. And please… you can always call me Logan," he insisted, having told her to stop with the formalities years ago.
"What can I do for you?" she asked.
"Oh, nothing…," Logan sighed, feeling a little silly. "I just got to thinking the other day that I never really thanked you enough for everything you did for me. I should've done it in person, not with just some note…, I should've apologized for the way I left… " he added, intentionally not mentioning the bonus. He wasn't calling because he wanted her 'thank you'.
He was also pretty sure that she'd been worried about him going AWOL like that.
"Oh, you know it's not necessary. I was happy to do it," Marjorie replied.
"But really. What you did - it was so much more than just the assistant's job, I almost feel like you were something more like a mother to me… you took care of me, you cared. And I just… Thank you," he said from the bottom of his heart.
"I'm just glad you're okay," Marjorie said, and Logan couldn't be sure, but it sounded like she was a little emotional.
"I'm better than okay. It was definitely the right thing to do, despite the circumstances. I'm happy, I'm engaged… I'm getting married in the summer. I'm back in the States. I'm getting help…," he listed, having not realized how much he'd needed to unload to her. "I'm sorry - I didn't mean to lay that all on you. I much rather just wanted to ask you how you're doing," he added apologetically, feeling a little embarrassed. She didn't owe him anything, yet he'd almost expected her to want to know those things.
"No-no, I want to know. Ten years is a long time," Marjorie replied, referring to the length of time she'd worked for him. "I'm glad you're doing well, I really am. You deserve it," she added.
"Thank you. But really - you're doing well yourself, I hope?" Logan asked, and they continued to talk about her life a little. Logan even remembered to ask about her sons and granddaughter, and even shared with her the fact that he'd recently gotten a puppy.
The call was surprisingly healing, Logan having not even realized how much he'd needed to make amends with that little connection to his past. It was one of the things that had been good in his life.
"I know this is kind of forward, and you're free to say 'no', but maybe if you don't have plans at the end of July, I'd love to invite you to the wedding," Logan offered.
"Oh, I don't know what to say," she replied in disbelief.
"Rory would love it, she's always been curious to meet you," Logan insisted, having brought Marjorie up numerous times in her presence both before and more recently. "I'd be happy to fly you over, plus one or two… however you like it," he suggested.
"You mean Ms. Gilmore!?" Marjorie exclaimed, not believing her ears, but it was an exclamation of approval if anything.
"Yes," Logan replied with a broad smile that was audible in his voice.
They agreed he'd send the invites and she'd see. But that was all he needed. He needed to show somehow his appreciation for her existence, for making sure back during his worse days that he ate, never missed his appointments - business, medical or psychological. She'd been the person to keep him functional and alive, literally, for all those years.
They were almost about to end the call, already saying final greetings, Logan already feeling positively energized from this interaction, when suddenly Marjorie said, "Wait, I almost forgot. I have one of your notebooks with me. It didn't feel right throwing away when they cleared out your ofice, and I didn't want to give it to your father either."
First Logan nearly didn't remember what she was talking about, his note-taking into a physical notebook having been something he'd done since the end of college until sometime before he'd gotten engaged with Odette. It was his idea-book, or one of them at least. Odette had always thought keeping notebooks, especially physical ones, was something silly. But it was how he'd always generated some of his best ideas. He'd had dozens of those, most of them by now thrown out altogether. But it was the last one he believed she had in her possession.
"I haven't looked at it. But I'd be happy to send it to you," Marjorie offered.
