Willow (DeBeers 1)

Thatcher laughed. "Okay. Sorry. Grace." he repeated, and urged me back and out of the house.

My mother had kept her eyes on me the whole time. My eyes never left her. either. An expression of pain crossed her face, and she almost stepped forward to stop us from leaving, but instantly Linden was between us and slammed the door sharply the moment we stepped out, shutting me off from my mother without my saying another word to her or her to me.

"I kind of warned you about that." Thatcher said, his face now free to reflect the anger he felt. "He's the one who should have been sent to a mental institution, not her. I feel sorry for her with that burden to carry,"

He fired his words at the closed door and then turned to me.

"Hey, you all right?" he asked. You look like you're trembling

."

"Yes," I said, embracing myself and hurrying off the loggia and down the sidewalk. He caught up quickly.

"Hey, take it easy." he said, rubbing my arm. "Don't let that bother vou. I'll set you up with some great subjects. You won't be able to stop them talking, and they'll talk about the most intimate details of their lives. too. Around here, some people wear their dysfunctional family life as if it were a badge of achievement or something."

I kept my head down as we continued to walk back to the main house.

"Take Helen Krescan, for example." he rattled on "She knows her husband keeps his mistress on his yacht right here in the Palm Beach harbor. She complains about it in the beauty salon all the time, but does she move for a divorce? No. She'd rather bask in self-pity or use it for some notoriety. You'll love talking with her. She'll tell you about more than just her own husband. She knows dirt on all the husbands. You can meet with her tomorrow, if you'd like.

"Hey," he said when I didn't respond. "Are you all right?"

"Yes. I don't know. Maybe this project is a bad idea," I said.

"I don't think so. I think it would be great. Don't give up just because of that," he said, nodding back at the beach house.

"I should just leave," I muttered, more to myself than to him. I looked out at the ocean. There were sailboats now and someone's magnificent yacht, all so still against the horizon they looked unreal. It was more like a movie set, something painted.

It was too easy to slip into illusion and fantasy here, I thought. This place was too dangerous for me, especially now, when I was more vulnerable than ever.

"Out of the question," Thatcher said. "You can't leave. You have an agreement to fulfill, and don't forget. I'm an attorney. I'll come by for you at seven." he said. "Give it a day or two. You'll get back on track after you have one good interview. Believe me." he promised. "Besides, tomorrow you're due at my parents' brunch. A more authentic Palm Beach couple you won't find anywhere." he assured me. "They're spoiled, self-indulgent, vain, full of prejudices, but essentially harmless," he added.

I tilted my head and gazed at him curiously, "What?" he asked.

"You don't respect your parents at all, do you?"

He thought a moment. "I guess I never took them seriously enough to do that." He gazed at the grand estate. "When you live in all this, when you're brought up here, you can lose sight of meaningful relationships rather easily. Let me put it to you this way." he said, looking more thoughtful than ever. "in most other places, love is something you can assume because it's already there for you. Here, it's something you have to find, discover under a pile of riches and luxury. Sometimes it's there, sometimes it's not, and when it's not, you just buy another Rolls or jet to Paris."

I stared at him, surprised at his frankness and sincerity. He looked uncomfortable under my scrutiny.

"Sorry I got so heavy." he said.

"No, it's all right. Maybe you're the best subject of all for my study," I blurted, It brought a smile to his face.

"I was hoping you would think that." he said. "Consider me at your disposal."

"A busy lawyer like you?" I teased. "What about your caseload?"

"Let's see" he said, squeezing his chin with his right hand as he thought. "The most pressing case I have right now is defending Harry Stevens, the flooring company billionaire whose yacht damaged the dock. The city wants him to rebuild the entire thing, and Harry is threatening to sue them. I think I might have a little spare time."

I laughed and continued on with him through the house and to my car,

"Just get some rest," he said. "I intend to show you a good time tonight and same of the real Palm Beach nightlife as well."

He closed the door for me and stood there watching me drive off. The gates opened like magical gates in an Arabian fairy tale. I drove out and watched them close behind me. I was back in the real world again, I thought, and my mother was behind those walls but, more significantly, behind the walls of her own sadness and disappointment as well.

What a mistakeI've made, I concluded. I should have been honest from the beginning-. I should have confronted her with the truth instead of this contrivance which just exploded in my face in front of her. She looked as if she would have welcomed me. I could feel it in her gaze.

And now there was Linden to contend with, whose confidence and trust would be that much more impossible to win. If and when I told the truth, he might believe that was a lie as well, or at least that my motives were false. Would he ever, could he ever, welcome me as his half-sister? I had never seen such trouble and pain in a young man's eyes, not even at Daddy's clinic. Why was he in such mental anguish? Was it something he had inherited from our mother? Would I ever know? Were there secrets even darker and deeper than the ones I already knew?