Page 111
Story: Willow (DeBeers 1)
I shook my head. "Thatcher..."
"Don't bother." he said, holding his hand up like a king making a royal declaration that couldn't be changed or delayed. "I wouldn't believe anything you told me now. anyway."
He turned again and walked faster toward the house, Before I took another step, he was inside, the door closing behind him.
That a mess of everything I have made, I thought. Linden was more depressed and hurt than ever. My mother was shut up in the darkness of her own disappointments knowing now that my father would never come for her. And I had driven Thatcher back into the very pool of cynicism he had stepped out of when we met and made love and had begun to believe in something greater than ourselves,
I should just go home, I thought. I should just return to the life I had before and pretend Daddy's diary never existed or that it was someone else's work of fiction. In a way Allan might have been the smartest one of all. Maybe his advice was the advice I should have taken. Now, it was too late even for that.
It's best just to go, I thought. It's best just to leave, write my mother a letter and explain afterward.
I went into the house and up to my room. where I changed out of the wet clothing. Then I began to pack my things. If I can't get a flight out,I'll check into one of those airport hotels, I thought, I didn't even want to bother calling. I would just drive to the airport and take my chances.
I sat at the desk and wrote a quick thank-you note to Thatcher's parents, asking them to forgive me for my abrupt departure and adding simply that it couldn't be avoided. I was sure their party would be a big success anyway and told them so. When I was ready, I called for Jennings. He looked surprised at the sight of my suitcase, but he didn't ask any questions.
"Please see that Mr. and Mrs. Eaton get this note. Jennings," I told him, and handed it to him.
"Very good. miss. Would you like me to take your suitcase down to your car?"
"It's not necessary. Jennings. I can manage," I said.
"I'll take them down to the foyer, then,' he insisted.
I supposed that somewhere in the rules that governed the behavior of house servants here, it would be a loss of face for him not to take my suitcases down. I nodded, and he left. After wiping the remnants of my tears away. I followed. When I reached the bottom of the stairway. I made a turn to the rear loggia. I wanted one more look at the beach house. I stood out there, debating whether or not to try to say goodbye. I thought it would be just too complicated and maybe even more painful to face my mother at the moment. A letter would have to suffice. I decided finally, and turned to leave.
Thatcher was sitting quietly in the oversized armchair. He had come down and had been watching me all the while.
"Where are you going?" he asked.
"Home."
"Where is home? You can tell me the truth now."
"It's where I said it was. South Carolina. Most of what I told you was true. Thatcher."
"Uh-huh."
"That's right," I said, turning- sharply at him. "Uh-huh. I'm sorry you have shut me out so firmly, convincing yourself that I'm deceitful and false and conniving, but you don't know anything," I told him.
He held his skeptical smile. "And your father and mother are really deceased?" he continued as if I were on a witness stand and he was being the clever trial attorney.
"That's correct."
"And your father was a doctor, a psychiatrist?" "Yes."
"Who happened to have been Grace
Montgomery's doctor? You said she was sent to his clinic."
"That's all true, Thatcher, yes."
He smiled coldly. "How convenient for you What did you do, get hold of her records or
something?"
"In a way." I said. "but that wasn't what brought me here. I'm no fortune hunter. I'm not here to play what you called the Palm Beach game. I couldn't care less about all that, if you want to know. I'm not as wealthy as most of the people in your parents' world. but I'm far from poor. I don't have yachts and thousands of dollars' worth of jewelry, but I have more than enough to keep me from selling myself into an affair so I can become a citizen of this artificial world."
I laughed. "You know something. Thatcher? Now that I have been here and have seen some of it. I just might propose the study paper to my psychology teacher next semester and maybe come back and really do it."
Table of Contents
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