8. Logan

Chapter 8

Logan

Standing in the unattended garden known as the Heart of the Family, I surveyed the three-acre expanse and pondered the ideas that had been provided by Mother’s horticulturalist.

Now more than ever, I needed some good news.

Mother had tasked me and Henry with restoring the garden, and it was the perfect job to distract myself from our pressing problems.

More specifically, the Mercers.

My meeting with Henry’s grandparents had been contentious and tedious.

The Mercers had made themselves perfectly clear. They were obviously going to seek custody of Henry.

Through her vast web of connections, my mother had discreetly reached out to the legal circles of Charleston and learned that the Mercers hadn’t filed any paperwork yet, but they had indeed consulted with an attorney.

That meant trouble was brewing.

Betsy’s reach in Charleston never ceased to amaze me. Her network of connections wasn’t just impressive—it was legendary. Her speed dial consisted of judges, city officials, and lawyers.

Sometimes I wondered if they were indebted to her—in some way. Beyond political donations and fundraisers. Did they owe my mother favors? Were there unspoken debts just waiting to be cashed in at a moment’s notice?

It wouldn’t surprise me. Because when Betsy Westbrook called, people jumped into action.

And they delivered. Guaranteed.

I heard a yelp escape Casey’s lips as he finally managed to pull out a few persistent weeds that didn’t want to leave the ground.

“Yes!” Casey said, but I could barely hear him because he was so far away. “Got ’em out!”

I glanced down and saw Henry at the far end of the garden, planting new roses as per Mother’s request.

I watched as Casey pulled more weeds out of the ground.

His strength came as something of a surprise to me. But I wasn’t sure why.

Normally Casey was dressed in stuffy clothes, but today it was something entirely new.

Today, he cut a nice figure in a t-shirt and jeans.

He obviously took care of himself and exercised regularly. I’d seen him one day at the private gym at Westbrook Meadows. I was walking by and caught a glimpse of him lifting on the bench press, his biceps flexing just like they were today in the glimmering sun.

I knew I needed to go over and speak to him. We couldn’t keep beating around the bush. It was now or never.

I started to walk toward Casey, but a voice caught me off-guard.

I turned to see Veronica, carrying a mysteriously unmarked bottle with a spray hose attached.

“Logan, darling!” she said. “I thought I’d come and lend a hand. Betsy told me all about your little garden project.”

I watched as she sprayed the contents of the bottle all over our plants, particularly the areas that were newly planted and still delicate.

“Dad!” a voice called out, turning my attention to Henry. “A snake!”

Without thinking, I rushed over to help, leaving Veronica alone with my new plants.

Upon arrival, I quickly realized that it was a Garter snake.

“Harmless,” I said, my heart still racing.

Henry smiled.

Part of me wondered if he was pranking me. Another part of me wondered if there was a hidden camera somewhere and I’d end up on TikTok.

Mother would find the video organically and show me for a laugh.

“Henry, we’re Googling poisonous snakes later,” I said, turning to walk away. “A boy your age living on an estate like this should have an idea about which snakes are dangerous, and which aren’t.”

“And the flowers?” he asked, grabbing my attention again. “Grandma specifically requested these.”

I walked over and saw the most beautiful snapdragons I’d ever seen in my life.

They were vibrant and whimsical.

“Grandma said they’re strong and resilient,” Henry said. “Like a Westbrook.”

Standing in the garden with Henry, my worries about the Mercers seemed to fade away, even if just for a brief moment.

There, with the scent of freshly cut grass and newly planted soil, I was grateful to have a family like mine.

Henry looked up from his shovel. “Grandma also said if I plant them wrong, she’ll make me write a formal apology to each snapdragon.”

I winced.

He wiped dirt from his gloves onto his jeans. “She also said if they die, she’s entering me as a contestant in the Charleston Flower Show, which sounds like a threat.”

I nodded. “I’d take grandma very seriously, if I were you.”

We shared a laugh before I remembered that I’d left Veronica unattended.

I rushed back to see that she’d sprayed most of the immediate area near the entry to the garden. The first impression one receives upon entering the garden. The most important part.

“Veronica,” I said as I neared, “are you sure that’s the right choice for this area?”

She placed the bottle on the ground and wiped her hands on her skirt, looking wildly inappropriate for garden work.

That was when I finally realized she was wearing high heels. Somehow that had escaped me before.

Come to think of it, Veronica always looked out of place at Westbrook Meadows. She much preferred to be at her high-rise condo downtown. Probably so she could look down on everyone else from her ivory tower.

No doubt she was only lingering around the estate so much lately to see if she could scavenge a piece of the pie from Betsy. Sucking up, pretending to help around the house. It was all a charade meant to further her own agenda.

Veronica had gone beyond normalcy and good taste. She was venturing on cartoonishly evil, hoping to do anything she could to claim a stake in Mother’s money.

“Need to go wash my hands,” she said with a wink.

“Veronica, why did you come here today?” I asked. “And what on earth is in that bottle you just placed on the ground?”

“Just stopped by to help!” she called out, her tone dripping with insincerity.

Suddenly, Casey appeared out of nowhere as if to rescue me. He made up an excuse about needing help with another section of the garden, and as he escorted me away, I watched Veronica leave.

I kept an eye on her until I could be completely sure that she was gone. I didn’t trust her to leave on her own. In fact, if I had things my way, I’d install cameras all around the property and bar her from ever entering Westbrook Meadows again.

My resentment of Veronica was slowly growing. She had gone beyond a normal nuisance. Now she was actively sabotaging us.

As Casey walked me to the back of the garden, I felt my senses calming with his hand on my back.

It wasn’t lost on me at all that Casey had helped me.

In fact, it excited me.

Later that day, as Casey and I surveyed the garden, I noticed that something was off.

Leaves had started to curl, and I quickly realized it was something in the soil. I knew right away what the problem was and to whom the blame belonged.

We found Veronica’s dispenser only to discover that the label had been ripped off.

As if on cue, we noticed Veronica approaching.

“Veronica,” I said as she grew near, “we have a specific plan we’re executing here. I’d appreciate it if you’d leave the chemical choices to us.”

Her eyes sparkled as she tried to feign innocence. “My only goal was to support you, Logan. How was I to know your plants were so delicate?”

Her words were always so sharp, intending to sting and cause harm.

Veronica shook her head, sucking air through her teeth. “This won’t look good to Betsy, especially with her upcoming decisions about the will. So much at stake.”

For the first time in my life, I felt something close to… hatred for a family member.

It was entirely new and incredibly uncomfortable.

Before I could respond, Veronica turned and sauntered away.

Me and Casey spent the next three hours digging up and replanting the small areas affected by Veronica’s sabotage.

Finally, we sat on two large, discarded boxes, surrounded by scattered leaves and torn-out bushes. Casey and I observed the scene of a garden that was finally taking shape.

Henry had helped for an hour before going in to finish homework.

I wiped the sweat from my brow and smelled the scent of fresh-cut greenery. “I almost didn’t expect any of this.”

Casey turned and looked at me. “Didn’t expect what?”

I gazed down at him, realizing my words had probably come across as intentionally vague.

I hesitated for a moment, my usual reserve failing. I took a deep breath and allowed myself to choose honesty over restraint.

“You,” I said. “Being here. And the way you’ve changed everything, Casey.”