Chapter Nine
Logan raised his wine glass at the table. It was a boxed red table wine from someplace local, he was pretty sure. His parents swore it was the best wine they’d ever had, but Logan thought it was mighty bitter and knew that after a few glasses of this, he’d probably have a headache that would put a damper on the rest of this day. He would have preferred a beer.
Everyone was seated around the large table, a piece of plywood Joe, Logan, Samuel, and Ben had carried in to transform Logan’s kitchen table into something large enough for the entire family to sit around. A festive plastic table cloth had been laid overtop. The girls were sitting on a piano bench, and everyone else was on one of the dusted-off metal chairs they had hauled in from the shed or one of the six wooden chai
