Logan waits, until he hears the bell chime again. He hears the second spirit before he sees him.
"Well, hello there!" The voice is inordinately cheerful under the circumstances and it gets Logan's back up immediately.
"Oh, it's you," he says. "I really am in Hell."
"Now, Logan, that's no way to speak to an old friend," the ghost chastises him. Logan turns to look at Baird Kellman, larger than life and somehow younger than he remembers him.
"So you're the ghost of Christmas fuck?" he asks.
"The ghost of Christmas present, yes," Baird corrects. "Ho ho ho!"
"You're very cheerful for someone who's been dead for ten years," Logan observes. Baird had died while he was still in his sixties. He had been five years younger than Logan, born in the same year as Rose.
"Ah well," says Baird with a philosophical shrug. "Can't dwell on these things, can we?"
"So you're here to show me the Christmas present," says Logan. "How does that work, since it's not Christmas?"
"I'm allowed a bit of leeway," says Baird. "I can show you the last two Christmases."
"That seems like cheating."
"Listen, I'm the ghost of Christmas present. I can show you whatever the fuck I want."
"You'd never have dared to speak to me like that when you were alive." Logan glares at him. "Or when I was," he adds as an afterthought.
"Death is the great equaliser." Baird holds out an arm. "Shall we?"
Logan reluctantly takes Baird's arm. When he looks around they're in a bedroom, in what he recognises as Kendall's apartment. Kendall is lying on the bed, looking pale and numb, a phone in his hand.
"Can I come and see the kids?" he's saying. Logan moves in closer, but Kendall can't see him.
"I don't think that's a good idea, Ken," says Rava's voice on the other end of the line.
"Why, is — is someone else there?"
"No, it's just me and the kids. I just don't want them upset today."
"I won't upset them."
"They made you something. I'll bring it over soon. I have to go. Merry Christmas. Happy birthday."
The line goes dead. Kendall puts the phone down at his side and stares into space.
"Remember this Christmas?" Baird asks Logan. "You spread the rumour that your son was back on drugs. Be careful what you Christmas wish for, huh?"
"He tried to take my company."
"He did what you always told him to do. You taught him that he had to be a killer."
"Fuck you, Dad," says Kendall aloud. Logan jumps and looks at his son but of course, Kendall still can't see him.
"Let's go and see your other son," says Baird.
"Roman?" Logan brightens, but then the surroundings change to Connor's ranch. They're in the kitchen, where a team is preparing Christmas dinner while Connor talks on the phone.
"Okay, Pop," Connor says, stepping around the caterers. "I understand. See you in the new year. Yeah, bye."
He ends the call and taps the phone against his chest as Willa, who was listening in the corner, steps up to him.
"He's not coming?" she asks.
"Yeah." Connor looks around at the surplus amount of food. "Something came up. He's taking Marcia away."
"Are you okay?"
"Of course. He said he might come in the new year." Connor holds up crossed fingers.
"Forget about that old Scrooge." Willa puts her arms around Connor's waist, seemingly with genuine affection.
"You know, Scrooge was actually an entrepreneur who provided a lot of people with jobs."
"Uh huh. Well, I'll go get changed."
"Connor's getting married today," says Logan quietly, suddenly remembering. "In the real present, I mean."
"That's right," says Baird. "Just think, you could have died at your son's wedding surrounded by your family, instead of on a plane, with people who started planning a press statement while you were still having chest compressions."
Baird's auburn hair is greying as he speaks, he looks more like the way Logan remembers him.
"You're getting older." Logan frowns at him.
"You're no spring chicken yourself." The scene around them is starting to fade, as Willa leaves the room and Connor starts yelling at the caterers.
They're in another house, in a room Logan doesn't recognise. He hears giggles behind him and looks around to see Gerri sitting by the fireplace, her usually immaculate hair in messy waves around her shoulders. There are two young blonde women sitting on either side of her.
"Merry Christmas, girls!" Gerri holds up a glass of champagne.
"Merry Christmas, Mom!" the girls chorus, clinking glasses.
"What does this have to do with me?" Logan asks Baird.
"Nothing," says Baird. "I just wanted to see my wife and daughters. I'm kidding," he adds, before Logan can explode. "You'll see in a minute."
Gerri's phone starts to buzz and her daughters exchange glances as she takes it out of her pocket. "Sorry, I have to take this." She answers, "Hi, Logan? Yeah, what's up? Oh, I see. Yes, that could be a problem." She listens. "Does it have to be today? Because I'm with the girls—" She breaks off and Logan can hear his own voice getting louder on the other end. "No, that's understood. I'll go now. Merry Christmas," she adds with a hint of sarcasm.
"Mom, you promised," says one of the young women, as Gerri ends the call. "You said no work today."
"I know, I'm sorry. I just have to go to the office to collect some papers. It's literally an emergency. I'll be back as soon as I can." She's already getting up, running a hand through her hair.
"So I'm a bad boss," says Logan to Baird. "You don't build up a billion-dollar business by being soft."
"Gerri was always loyal to you," says Baird. "And how did you repay her, for her years of service?"
"She went behind my back with my son."
"She turned her back on your son, for you. And then you got your son to fire her, just for shits and giggles."
Gerri sweeps out of the room as her daughters exchange disappointed looks, putting their glasses down.
"Do you even know my daughters' names?" asks Baird. "I can tell you all your kids' names and birthdays."
Before he can answer, Logan is suddenly aware of a pain in his ribs. It feels like someone is pounding on his chest. "Logan?" A voice is calling to him. He can feel the floor beneath him, see Tom's stricken face looking down at him. "Logan, hold on."
Logan blinks, and he's back in the room with Baird.
"What was that?" he asks, startled. The pain is gone again.
"That was someone trying to revive you," says Baird. "You're not quite dead yet."
"So I'm hallucinating?"
"Could be," says Baird with another shrug. "If I'm part of your hallucination, I'm not the best person to ask, am I?"
"You're really fucking useful, you know that?" Logan paces around, noticing that their surroundings have changed. "Where are we, anyway?"
"We're in England," says Baird. "Last Christmas."
Logan's eyes adjust to the light. He remembers this house now. He came here with Kendall, to meet the boy's family. It had been his way of punishing Kendall further, of keeping him in his control.
There's a meagre Christmas tree in the corner. A woman — Andrew Dodds' mother — enters holding a candle, which she places in front of the tree. She kneels down, seemingly in prayer.
"She still cries for her son every day," says Baird. "But Christmas is especially hard. Andrew loved Christmas."
"I didn't kill her son," says Logan. "It was an accident. It was Kendall's doing, not mine."
"Kendall wouldn't have been back on drugs, if it wasn't for you. And you used the boy's death to manipulate your son, to get him to do your bidding. You never spared a thought for the boy or his family. No Real Person Involved, right Logan?"
Andrew's mother blows out the candle and it all goes dark, before a white light dazzles Logan's eyes.
They're back in the white room again. The light is almost blinding. Logan thinks he can hear voices in his ear from the plane again. His kids' voices, telling him that he's going to make it, they they love him, that it's okay. Then the voices fade.
"Well, it's my time to go," says Baird. He looks much older now, older than Logan ever saw him when he was alive. "The present is fleeting."
"Wait," says Logan. "I don't — I don't want to go."
"I didn't either," says Baird. "It's never long enough."
"I'm scared," says Logan. He sounds like a little boy again. "The next ghost — the future one — I don't want to see him."
Baird's eyes soften. "Take care, old friend."
"Wait," Logan pleads. "Baird—"
It's too late. Baird is gone. The voices in Logan's ear have stopped. There's nothing but silence.