Willow (DeBeers 1)

I looked at the beach house. "Your mother knows I'm going along with you, doesn't she?"

He gazed at the house. his eves darkening a bit and his forehead going into thoughtful folds.

"Yes," he said. "Let's go." he repeated more sharply.

He stepped into the boat and held his hand out to guide me.

"You can sit right there," he said. nodding. "This is a simple, one-man operation. You can just enjoy the trip."

"What did she say?"

"Who?"

"Your mother. I suppose you told her everything, then, my posing for the picture as well, right?"

He was quiet as he untied the boat and then pushed off and hoisted the sail.

My question hung in the air like a fallen leaf caught in the wind.

"I didn't tell her about the painting, no." he finally replied. "She really took to you yesterday. I thought."

"What do you mean, you thought? Did she or didn't she?"

"I asked her about you right after you had spoken with her."

"And?"

"She smiled in a way I haven't seen her smile in a long time and said, 'She's very nice.' She even asked about you."

"She did? Like what?"

"How long you were staying with the Eatons. I told her I didn't know for sure. Then..."

"Then what?"

He sat at the rudder. "Then I mentioned I was taking you sailing today, and she became upset."

"Really? Why was she upset?"

"I don't know. I asked her if there was anything wrong, and she just shook her head and went to her room. She didn't talk about it anymore. so I didn't. I think she's just worried I'll get involved with someone and leave her," he offered. "I wouldn't." he added quickly. "I mean. I'd get involved with someone. but I wouldn't leave her.

"Here we go." he cried as the wind filled the sail.

Of course, it wasn't anywhere as fast as it was with Thatcher on the speedboat, but being this close to the water, getting the spray in my face, feeling the wind, and bouncing on the waves, it was just as exciting, if not more so.

Linden did look at home on the sea. His whole demeanor changed. His face filled with a glow, and his eyes picked up the blue of the water and the sky. He no longer looked as fragile and no longer looked depressed or forlorn. He was energized and alive, and that change had a good effect on me.

I never realized how beautiful it was to sail, to feel the water beneath us, the wind in my hair, the breeze caressing my face. I couldn't help but squeal with delight when he made a turn so sharply that the boat seemed ready to tip and just hung in the air for a few seconds before righting itself and bouncing on.

He laughed at my reactions,

"Give me a sailboat any day," he shouted. over a multimillion-dollar motorized yacht. This way, you're part of the process. You're connected. Understand?"

"Yes," I said.

He smiled, "I thought you would. I knew you would."

He looked so pleased, as much with himself as with me. and I wondered when he had last felt this way. It wasn't a bad thing I was doing, being with him, giving him some companionship, helping him enjoy things he should have no problem enjoying every day, was it? I wasn't wrong. Silence, I told the chimes in my head. Stop the alarms,I'll be fine. We'll be fine. There's nothing wrong with this, no danger.