I strolled slowly back to my room and paused in the doorway, looking at the teddy bear from London that I had placed against my pillow. It seemed to have a smile of confusion on its face as well. Hugging it to me. I crawled under my blanket and stared up at the dark ceiling.
People really do die more than once, I thought. The second funeral takes place in your memory You bury them under new events, new faces, ne-w relationships, andwhen you do; you bury a little of yourself as well.
What was it Augustus had told me? All life was suffering. Everything that lives, lives on something that dies? He was warning me, letting me know what to expect. As short as our friendship was, that was a significant gift.
"I don't care. Daddy," I whispered to the night. "I won't let go of you. Even if it means I'll never be happy again."
I fell asleep with that promise on my lips.
10
A Bridge to Cross
.
I never heard Mommy came home and
attributed that to my having fallen into a very deep sleep. An earthquake probably wouldn't have stirred my eyelids. I was that exhausted. mostly from emotional strain. But after I rose and went out to the kitchen to start making coffee for us. I realized Mommy's door was wide open. She usually closed it before going to sleep. Curious. I went to her room and peered in. Her bed was unslept in. untouched. The realization that she had not come home yet hit me as sharply as a slap across the face. I actually heard myself say. "What?' as if I had to state the obvious to believe it. She wasn't home.
I stepped back. trembling. This could very well mean something terrible had happened to her. All sorts of wild ideas began to stampede across my imagination. Maybe this Winston Montgomery was some sort of wealthy serial killer, Maybe Mommy had decided to leave him and set out on her own and something happened to her. Or maybe they were in a bad accident and no one knew who she was yet. I started to get frantic. I debated calling Dallas but thought I might just get her upset and later Mommy might be very angry at me.
To keep my mind occupied I returned to the kitchen and started again to make some coffee. Just as I turned on the coffee maker. the front door opened and Mommy entered. She didn't look tired at all even though she had obviously been out all night. In fact, as she entered she was smiling, smiling until she saw me standing there.
"Oh. Grace. I was hoping to get home before you got up." she said.
"Where were you? It's morning. How could you stay out so late?" I asked, each question in a louder voice. "How could you do this without calling me?"
She looked as guilty as a teenager caught coming home after her curfew. All these events had ironically reversed our roles and responsibilities to each other.
"You're right. I'm sorry. Grace. It was just that I was having such a good time I didn't pay attention to the time. You know how that can be. I'm sure."
"No, Mommy. I don't," I shot back at her. "I've never done anything like this to you. How could you not realize it was becoming morning? How?" I cried, my arms up.
She nodded. "I know it seems fantastic. but..."
"Seems fantastic? It is fantastic! I thought something terrible must have happened to you."
"I'm sorry. Grace, but no matter how many times I say that, it won't change it," she said, losing her patience. "so let's drop it. It won't happen again." She marched down the short hallway to her bedroom.
I stood there in disbelief. Drop it? What would she have said if the roles were reversed and it was I who had stayed out all night without calling? I followed and watched her get undressed.
"How could you not realize the time. Mommy?"
She paused. "We were having a good time listening to music at the club and meeting people. I haven't been out socially in so long I almost forgot what it was like. You should have seen the people there, the clothes, the jewelry. Do you know who just happened to be there? Philippe D'Anotelli, You know who he is, the famous Italian designer. All the movie stars wear his clothes. He stopped to say hello to Winston, and we were introduced."
"But you didn't stay there all night?"
"No, we went to Winston's home. Home." she said with a laugh. 'Little castle would be more like it. It's walled in like most of the estates in Palm Beach. It's another world there. Grace. Dallas was right. When you cross over the Flagler Bridge and enter Palm Beach you think you've entered another count populated only by the rich and famous, with beautiful streets and shops and restaurants, everything looking new and fresh. People are so insulated there. Grace, so well protected. It's as if sickness and death can't come over the bridge. They don't even have a hospital or a cemetery!
"Anyway," she continued as if her excitement wouldn't permit her to pause, "the gates of Winston's home opened like the gates of heaven might, and we started up this beautiful mauve driveway which looked brand new. I think someone comes out and vacuums it every day."
"Vacuums a driveway?"
"I'm just kidding, but it looked like that. The driveway continued forever toward the
D.1editerranean-stvle pearl white mansion. With the elaborate lighting over the grounds I could see oleander bushes close to twenty feet high with salmon-pink, red, and white blossoms. There were fountains and small ponds and these great royal coconut palm trees lining the circular entry drive. Before we drove up I could see the ocean behind the house and another building down on the left toward the beach.
"Even at that time of the night we were greeted by a butler in a tuxedo jacket and a bowtie. I thought I had entered a museum. The artwork, the statues, and the rugs... he has a fortune in decoration and furniture. The moment we went to what he called the sitting room, but someone else might call a small ballroom, a maid appeared and asked him if he wanted anything. Can you imagine having so many servants who are always attentive, always available?"