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Logan wasn’t sure if there was a dress code for dinner, so he kept on his crumpled jeans, but swapped his hoodie for a shirt. He brushed his teeth, and spent five minutes admiring all the little toiletries set out for him, until his mother started calling and he reluctantly left his room.
He found the other three gathered in a cosy sitting room, decorated with a huge Christmas tree and crackling log fire.
“This is nice,” he said conversationally.
Daniel came forward and clapped him on the back. “You must consider this your home while you’re here.”
Logan’s eyes went to Wendy, amused to see her reaction to the warm welcome. She didn’t disappoint him. She folded her arms mutinously and stared out the window, making it clear she didn’t agree.
They nibbled on some nuts and olives, while his mother bombarded him and Wendy with questions about school. The two of them said pretty much the opposite to each other with every answer. She liked every subject he didn’t and vice versa. She liked different teachers to him, and held different views on the school food and facilities. And the more irritated Wendy became by his comments, the more Logan wanted to laugh.
“Hell hath no limits,” Wendy muttered as Logan whisked away the last pistachio nut just as she reached for it.
“What was that?” he asked.
“Shakespeare,” she said in a condescending tone.
“Don’t think so. Hell hath no limits, nor is circumscribed in one self-place; for where we are is hell, and where hell is, there must we ever be. My father did Doctor Faustus at the Old Vic. It’s Christopher Marlowe, not Shakespeare. Though they were contemporaries and rivals, almost best frenemies, you might say.” Logan gave Wendy a smug look. “I wouldn’t even try to out-quote me; I was raised on plays, and I’ve got a memory like an elephant.”
“And an ego like one too.” Wendy spat out in irritation. “The ability to quote is a serviceable substitute for wit. That was W. Somerset Maugham. He wrote actual books – you might have heard of those?”
“He wrote plays too, oh literary one.” Logan countered, still looking smug, while Wendy appeared to grind her teeth.
Logan suddenly realised he was actually having a good time. He might even have felt a bit sorry for Wendy if it weren’t for his mother trying so hard to be nice to her, and her being so cold in return. She really needed to lighten up.
Dinner passed fairly smoothly. Mainly because Wendy had stopped talking at all, and Logan was happily filling the gap. Chatting away with his mother and getting to know Daniel, and deeply appreciating the excellent cooking. It was all his favourites.
“Did you make this, Mum?” He twirled tagliatelli with salmon, cream and dill around his fork.
She smiled. “You know I did – don’t I always when you first come back from school? Daniel has a cook-housekeeper, but I haven't been able to spoil my little boy for months now, so I couldn’t resist pushing Marco out of the kitchen for tonight.”
Wendy snorted loudly at hearing Logan being called a little boy, but obviously wasn’t revolted enough to stop eating. Logan was surprised to see her enjoying the fish. He would have assumed from her precious values that she was a vegetarian, especially as she was so thin and pale. He decided that she was probably one of those that liked to claim she was vegan but secretly loved bacon.
It wasn’t until halfway through dessert that Daniel brought out the champagne. Marina fetched flute glasses from the nearby cabinet and then the cork was popped.
“What are we celebrating?” Wendy asked as her father filled her glass.
“The two of you coming home from school is a good start,” he answered.
“I got an A in Biology,” Logan offered.
“That’s wonderful,” his mother enthused, at the same time as Wendy rolled her eyes and said, “Typical.”
“I got an A in English,” she countered, “and Latin too.”
“And Social Studies, no doubt.” Logan raised an eyebrow.
She gave a smug smile. “Of course.”
“And I’m very proud,” Daniel said. “But we have other news too, and we wanted to tell you both together.” He reached out and took Marina’s hand. “I’ve asked Marina to marry me, and she said yes.”
“Again?” Logan glared at his mother.
“Oh no!” Wendy’s fork clattered onto her plate. “I can’t deal with this.” She practically ran from the room, slamming the door behind her so all the glass rattled in the window panes.
Logan winced. “She really likes banging doors.”
“Not usually.” David looked sadly after her. “Maybe it was too soon to share it; we should have given her more time to get used to you,” he addressed Marina. Then he turned to Logan. “As the most important person in Marina’s life, I'd really like your blessing, Logan.”
Logan shook his head, not willing to pretend he was pleased for them.
He felt like the parent as he said, “You’ve only known each other five minutes, why did you have to rush into it?”
“We’re in love.” Marina reached out her hand across the table to him.
Logan pulled back, suddenly taking in the glass in front of his mother, which contained orange juice and not champagne.
“Oh my god, you’re pregnant, aren’t you! How could you be so stupid?”
Daniel rocketed to his feet protectively, but Marina put a hand on his arm pulling him back down.
“Yes, Logan, I am, and we’re very happy about it.” Her eyes filled with tears. “It’s very scary for me after so long, so I'd be really grateful for your support.”
“It’s disgusting at your age. You’re too old to have more kids.”
“I’m only thirty-eight; it’s not that unusual. I was very young when I had you.”
“Forty, Mum, you’re forty next month,” he brutally reminded her, because she’d fudged her age for so long that he wondered if she had truly forgotten.
Tears fell from her eyes, and Logan wondered if she was actually crying for real. He was so used to the crocodile tears that she could produce on demand that he tended to ignore them. But he’d never seem them do more than brim in her wide eyes before. He felt wretched as they trailed down her cheeks. It must be the pregnancy hormones, he decided, not letting up his disapproval.
“We didn’t mean to spring it all on you in one go,” Daniel said, in a calmer tone, “but I do promise to try to make your mother very happy, and to make you part of my family too, if you’ll let me.”
“Pff!” Logan responded rudely, instead of swearing at the other man as he would have done if he’d been with someone his own age.
“I think this has been a lot to take in for him.” Marina dried her eyes on her napkin. “Maybe we should call it a night and talk more in the morning?”
“Fine with me.” Logan stood up. “Goodnight,” he managed curtly.
He walked slowly up the stairs, trying to remain calm until he got inside his room.
As he reached the landing, Wendy’s door opened a crack.
“Get in here,” she said, grabbing his elbow and yanking him in.