Willow (DeBeers 1)

"How can you eat like this every day?" I wondered without hiding my astonishment,

"Oh. I don't think we eat like this every day. We have the opportunity to. but we don't." he said nonchalantly. His eyes twinkled a bit. "I suppose my son has been voicing his criticism of our lifestyle. Does he have a laundry list of complaints?"

"Not really." I said. trying to be diplomatic about it. At least. he hasn't made it a major topic of discussion."

"Oh? I'm sure he will. He takes after my grandfather." Asher confided. "Serious. full of ambition, and very competitive. He hates coming in second and goes into a depression if he loses a case or doesn't settle it to his liking.

"I'll warn you right now," he added. "he doesn't take well to rejection, and if he's set his eyes on you, he'll come at you from now until the end of time."

"You make him sound dangerous," I said. smiling.

He shrugged. "There are all sorts of dangers out there." he replied, gazing at the sea. "Physical ones can sometimes be the least painful or frightening. I'll give you some thoughts to help your study of this world here. The wealthy can buy out of most of the problems that plague ordinary folk. I have never worried about an automobile breaking down, an appliance going bad, an electric or plumbing problem, much less a bill. and Bunny certainly hasn't, either. Everything becomes relative in a sense. however. She might have a fit if the restaurant she goes to with her friends doesn't have the vine she wants or the champagne or the appetizer. She could even get sick over the disappointment.

"If our children have problems, we hire therapists, tutors, specialists, and hardly skip a beat in our daily lives. If our marriages come apart, we hire good lawyers and work out dissolutions and then go off to the Cote d'Azur to recuperate from the tension. Sometimes, we don't even let death disrupt us. The husband of a rather wealthy, well-known woman died last year just at the beginning of what we call the season here. She was so annoyed that she would miss certain events mourning his passing that she put his body on ice and postponed the funeral.

"Most of this is nothing more than amusing to me, but to my son, it's practically criminal. Yet I will tell you," he added. His face suddenly turning very serious. "I don't think he's anywhere nearly as happy as Bunny and I are. He broods too much. He has some demons to get out of his system." He looked toward the beach house.

"Sometimes," he continued, almost in a whisper now, "I think he's more like Linden Montgomery than he knows."

He looked at me-- expectantly, I thought.

"I don't know either of them well enough yet to agree or disagree.," I said.

He nodded and smiled, "Very good answer."

"It's the truth. Asher."

"I'm sure it is." he said. "Well. I guess I've been a little like Thatcher here. I didn't mean to be so serious. It's your fault," he said, pointing a finger of accusation at me. "You're too serious. Isabel. You're too focused. Where's your hedonism when you need it the most?" He laughed at my expression. "Take advantage of us."

"I already have." I said "Your hospitality..."

"No, no, that's not even a drop in the bucket. Feel free to do anything you want. Bunny would love to take you on a shopping spree for clothes. for example. Just mention it to her."

I couldn't help the way my mouth gaped. How could anyone be so rich or unconcerned about being exploited? Why was that amusing?

"Something tells me you are trying to corrupt me, Asher Eaton," I said, and he burst into a fit of laughter.

"I think that's it." he said. nodding. "You're right. People like you make us too aware of our wastefulness and extravagance. We have to corrupt you in order to feel better about ourselves."

"And maybe that's why you're a little annoyed at Thatcher," I suggested.

"Very good," he said. "You could be a social worker for the rich or a psychologist. I suppose." He gazed at the beach house again. "Maybe that's also why Grace and Linden bother Bunny so much. Grace makes her afraid." he said.

"Of what?" I asked, holding my breath.

"Of losing it all and becoming like that... a shadow on the beach, a prisoner of memories. Do you know what is the worst fear and danger to us Palm Beach royals, Isabel?"

"What?"

"Loneliness," he said. He looked at the beach house again. "Loneliness."

I guess I was right about that, I thought. I guess I have inherited some of Daddy's instinct and perception. Now the question was what would I do with it?

Asher apologized again for being too serious and then insisted I go look at his game room, where he had a beautiful pool table, a genuine working slot machine, and a set of electric speed cars. He told me he and some of his male friends bet ridiculously high sums of money on the toy car races and swore someone lost fifty thousand dollars one night.

When I looked at the time, I excused myself. thanked him for the lunch, and went up to my room to change and freshen up for what I had come all this way to do: meet and get to know my real mother.

Just as Linden had promised, she and he were sitting on their patio, having coffee and talking quietly. I paused for a moment and watched them before they saw me approaching. My mother was still dressed only in that housecoat I had seen her in when I first set eves on her. Her hair was tied back, and she wore no makeup. There was, however, a soft, almost meditative peace in her face, just a tiny suggestion of a smile in her lips. She nodded at something Linden had said, and then they were both quiet, both still, gazing out at the sea and looking as if they had fallen back into one of Linden's pictures.