Willow (DeBeers 1)

s get filled up quickly."

"You always managed to get what my father or my mother needed," I reminded her. "I'm sure if vou try hard, you'll do it for me as well." She was quiet a moment. "Of course." she said. "I thought you were in college." she finally had the courage to blurt, "Is there some sort of mid-semester break?"

This is my telephone number." I replied instead of answering her question. "Please call me back within the hour."

Was everyone's life so dull that they just had to poke their noses into mine, or anyone else's for that matter? People like her resembled pigs to me, pigs dipping their snouts in the trough of gossip.

"I'll get right on it." she said, her voice smarting from the rebuff

She called back in twenty minutes, sounding surprised herself that she had been able to get me into the hotel at such a late hour.

"Someone must have canceled at the last moment. You're lucky."

"Yes. I'm lucky," I said dryly. "Please arrange for a car for me as well."

"Do you want a convertible?"

She was offering me luxury now almost as a punishment for daring to be happy so quickly.

"It's not important." I said.

Right after I made my travel arrangements. I called and made an appointment with Dr. Anderson. He knew who I was, of course and, according to his secretary, had moved his schedule around to accommodate me.

It occurred to me after I hung up that he probably thought I wanted to see him for sorrow counseling. He surely knew by now that my father had died. He was adjusting his workload as a professional courtesy. Who knows, I thought. Maybe I do need counseling,. Maybe Allan wasn't all wrong. I certainly had a right to question my own sanity after learning all the secrets buried in my home and my father's past. I was like someone in a boat rocked so hard I was still spinning even in calm waters.

Not knowing how long I would actually be staving in Palm Beach. I didn't know how much to pack. but I ended up with two suitcases. It was only when I turned to leave my small college apartment that the enormity of what I was attempting to do weighed on me. Would I make a total fool of myself and come running back, too late to be reinstated in my classes? How could I ask for that. anyway? I'm in: I'm out: I'm in. Would everyone think I had gone mad? Dean Thorne looked as if he had thought so. Allan certainly did.

I was still smarting from that disappointment, but it was like getting a scratch after you had suffered a far more serious wound. I was too numb from what had happened to really feel the pain he had inflicted, even though I had hoped for and even expected his support Instead, he had given me threats and ultimatums. He did leave me feeling I was a highstrung, emotionally unstable young woman, and that took from my vault of self-confidence, leaving me vulnerable and insecure just when I had to be the complete opposite.

.

It was a short flight to the West Palm Beach airport. My father's travel agent was right: it was the season and very busy. The airport was jammed with tourists from all over western Europe as well as the northern and midwestern United States. It took me nearly a half hour to get my luggage and then more than that to get my rental car. By the time I headed for Palm Beach itself. it was close to seven P.M.

I followed the directions the rental car agent had given me. They weren't difficult at all, but even so. when I crossed over the Flagler Bridge, named for one of the founders of this ritzy community. I looked for a sign and couldn't find one. I pulled over to the side and called to a woman who was walking what resembled a miniature hippopotamus. It had loose skin in thick, wrinkled folds, especially on its forehead. I later learned it was a very popular dog here. a Chinese sharpei. The dog's leash as well as its collar seemed to be made of mink; the collar was also studded with jewels.

The woman stopped and turned to me. It was what I would consider a warm, humid evening, but she wore a chic designer knit pantsuit with a shawl over her shoulders and strutted in a pair of highheeled shoes that looked rather formal for taking a dog for a walk. She pulled her head back as if automobile smelled bad and said. "What is it?"

"I wanted to be sure I'm in Palm Beach," I said.

"Of course you're in Palm Beach. If you do not know that, you certainly do not belong here," she replied through a mouth so tight she looked as if she had lockjaw. She turned and continued walking without offering any more assistance.

I smiled in astonishment, shook my head, and drove on, following the directions to the Breakers that I had been given at the rental car desk. I was soon driving the wide streets lined with tall coconut palm trees. If wealth had an aroma, it would undulate through the air around you in Palm Beach and make it impossible to breathe any other scent. I thought, I couldn't count how many chauffeur-driven limousines were parked along the streets or moving around me. I suddenly felt self-conscious driving a midsize, inexpensive rental. It was like going to a party in a pair of jeans and a blouse and finding out everyone else was formally dressed. Some pedestrians who looked my way appeared absolutely indignant. It's just my imagination, I told myself, my imagination and my nervousness.

Finally. The Breakers hotel came into view. The palms along the entrance were lit with colored spotlights, and the illuminated twin towers with pennants snapping in the breeze made it look more like a castle than a resort. Maybe I was entering a fantasy after all, I thought, falling through some tunnel like Alice in Wonderland.

The valet parking attendants and the porters swarmed over me when I pulled in. Moments later. I was at the desk, gazing around the lobby and wondering how I had gotten myself here. how I had left my tiny apartment heavy with sorrow and sadness and come so quickly to this glamorous place. The hand-painted ceilings, Venetian chandeliers, and fifteenth-century tapestries showed that the hotel's builders had clearly been heavily influenced by the Italian Renaissance.

'What opulence, I thought. The Breakers was as luxurious a resort as any in the world. There were many women in fancy, expensive dresses and men in tuxedos and designer suits moving through the lobby, their laughter like music building the excitement around me. No wonder my father's travel agent was so interested in why I wanted to come here so soon after my father's passing. This was no stopover and no place for someone in mourning to use as a quiet retreat.

My room had an ocean view. For a few moments after the porter showed me my room and brought in my luggage. I stood by the window gazing. I was mesmerized by the sea. The sight of some vacationers walking on the beach and the sounds of the music I could hear below made me feel strangely invisible. I couldn't be part of all that I saw and heard-- and yet. I was here.

I was hungry but decided to remain in my room and just order room service. I tried distracting myself with television, but my mind was determined to keep all my fears and questions streaking across the marquee of my attention. Had I made a terrible mistake? Was I foolish to leave school on an impulse? Was I wrong to ignore Amou and Dr. Price and Allan? What was I doing here?

I felt as twisted and knotted inside as a ball of rubber bands. Later, it seemed they were all stretching and snapping in my stomach. I was sorry I had eaten anything. Pretty soon. I vomited: then I curled up in the bed and cried until I welcomed the exhaustion that would carry me off into a few hours of sleep.

My eyes snapped open many times during the night, and when the sunlight penetrated the curtains, they opened again, but I was so groggy I forced myself to remain in bed. I fell back to sleep, a deeper sleep this time, and when I woke. I glanced at the clock and realized I had only a little more than a half hour to get over to Dr. Anderson's office.

Thrown into a panic. I rose, showered, and tried to dress and brush my hair all in less than fifteen minutes. Having any breakfast was out of the question. I barely had time to swallow a glass of water. I rushed out of my room and into the lobby. It took longer than I had anticipated getting my car. too. Mercedes, B.M.W's, and Rolls-Royces were all brought up before mine as if they had to get the wellto-do guests away before they were contaminated.