Wicked Forest (DeBeers 2)

"I'm sorry," he said, smiling. "I'm not being all that brilliant and helpful to you."

"Oh. no." I protested. "You don't know how much I appreciate your listening and giving me your opinions."

He nodded and looked down at his coffee.

"Does Thatcher know how much you confide in me?" he asked. still looking at his cup.

"Now. Professor Fuentes." I said. "doesn't every psychotherapist advise the spouse of his client to permit that client to have his or her space? If the sessions aren't inviolate, they can't be effective."

He laughed.

"Always the doctor's daughter." he declared. "I have no choice. It's who I am."

"I know. I just don't want to be misinterpreted."

"You won't be. Thatcher has his confidants and I have mine. I consider you more than my teacher now. I consider you a good friend," I said.

He nodded.

"Thank you. It is an honor I accept. Is your mother aware of any of these goings-on?" he asked.

"No, not unless she has overheard some servant gossiping about us. Despite our moving into a much more comfortable home and her having some help, she seems more tired. Her brows are furrowed more often, her shoulders slumped. She falls asleep in her chair, and she is not eating as Yell as I would like to see.

"But I haven't given her all the time and attention I would like. I haven't spent half as much time as I know I should with Linden. either. Thatcher has kept me pretty busy with his social schedule. The lines between what is social and what is a business affair are so blurred in his world. I don't know what's important and what isn't anymore. I'm afraid to say no to anything. I don't want to disappoint him or do anything that would hurt his business efforts."

Professor Fuentes held his smile.

"Aren't you also afraid of lending even a tiny suggestion of credence to the nasty rumors Whitney has engendered?"

I looked down and then up again, nodding.

"I feel like Audrey Hepburn in The Children's Hour, questioning every thought, every action and look, wondering if there isn't a seed of truth to the nasty tales, doubting herself.

"When I walk with Linden now. I look everywhere to see if a maid is watching us. If he touches me. I practically jump, and every time I look up at that picture above our bed. I see more licentiousness in it If anyone else is brought to see it_. I blush as if he or she is looking at me nude.

"And then I think, poor Linden, he doesn't deserve all this. She's done that to him, to us both! My father used to say the power is in the accusation, not the conviction. If I didn't understand him then. I certainly understand him now."

"Thatcher has said nothing relating to any of this?"'

"He's said nothing directly, but sometimes he says things that could have underlying meanings, or I look up and catch him studying Linden and the way Linden is looking at me. Our eyes meet for a moment. and I feel this suspicion. It's only for a fleeting second or two, but nevertheless, it's there. I think. Maybe I've just become paranoid. In either case. Whitney would be satisfied."

"You should discuss it with him. Willow. You should do it as soon as you can and eliminate all that before it takes hold like termites and eats away at the foundation of your marriage," Professor Fuentes said.

"Yes, that's good advice. I know I should. I must. See," I said, smiling, you are a big help. I don't know it all. I don't know even a quarter of it all."

He laughed.

The truth is. Willow, none of us do." he said. "Some of us just do a better job of hiding that fact."

We both laughed, and so ended another of our precious tete-a-tetes over coffee. I went to my class. Later that afternoon, when I started for Joya del Mar. I vowed to do what the professor had recommended-- have a heart-to-heart talk with Thatcher and tell him all of it.

Up until now, Whitney had not dared call my bluff. She had returned the pictures. I had no way of knowing if she had made copies, of course. but I thought that even she would be embarrassed enough if someone else was permitted to view them. I was still, despite her disappointment, her brother's wife. I didn't hear from or see any members of the Club d'Amour, so I hoped the gossiping had stopped. too. However, as I had told Professor Fuentes. I was still left with the damage that had already been done.

Thatcher disappointed me when he called at the end of the day to say he had been summoned to a very important meeting in Tallahassee. He said it involved the conglomerate and the men he had met in Nice when we were on our honeymoon.

"They are working on some state politicians. These are sort of off-the-record meetings, if you know what I mean. I'll have to be there the better part of two days. I'll be back tomorrow night." he told me.

"Oh," I moaned,