Wicked Forest (DeBeers 2)

Linden's eyes fluttered and then opened. The moment he realized I was standing there, he sat up.

"Willow, when did you get back?"

"Just now. I might have expected Mother would keep it all a secret from me, but not you. Linden. Why didn't you call me at my hotel? I left a detailed description of where we were."

"I was going to call you, but she absolutely forbade it," he said, glaring at Mother, "She threatened to get even sicker if I did."

"Mother."

"Oh, he's exaggerating. What's the difference? No harm has been done and I'm fine. Now, get on with you," she said. "Both of you. Out of here. I'm getting up and dressed and going down to get something to eat, and then I want a detailed account of your holiday. Linden, go wash up and get something in your stomach immediately," she snapped, and he rose.

I shook my head and smiled.

"All right. Mother. You win, far now," I said, nodded at Linden, and left with him. "I-low bad was she?" I asked as soon as we were sufficiently away from her door.

She was too weak to stand. And pale, as pale and gray as a wet tissue, If I hadn't insisted, she wouldn't even have permitted the doctor to come here," he said.

"You did well. Linden. We'll have to watch her closely an

d see that there is no recurrence."

"Right." he said. smiling. "I'm glad you're home. I missed you. And soon I'll have a new work completed for you to see."

Without any warning, he pressed forward to kiss me on the lips, a quick peck, and then he turned and hurried off, truly demonstrating what was meant by "a stolen kiss."

By the time I returned to our suite. Thatcher was already on the phone with business associates. I had unpacked and nearly finished changing my clothes before he was free to ask how Mother was. I told him, and he shrugged and said, "If she feels that good, let her be."

Maybe he was right, I thought. Maybe half the time we make people sicker by doting on their illnesses. In truth, as the days and weeks went by. Mother never showed any signs of being sick. If she had any recurrences during that time, she kept them to herself well. She moved slowly. I thought, and was still not as energetic and as bright as she had been when I first arrived at Joya del Mar, but she was at every meal, listening to our conversations, taking her walks, and sitting out on the loggia reading or just staring out at the sea and looking content.

It was nearly the end of the trimester for me. so I was very busy preparing papers and prepping for upcoming exams again. Professor Fuentes and I continued to have our occasional tete-a-tetes, and Linden returned to his studio, working feverishly on his newest project. All he would tell me was we needed a very large work of art for the wall facing the entrance to the house. The Eatons had taken the tapestry they had bought in Europe, leaving a nearly twenty-by-twenty-foot empty space.

We all settled into a comfortable and pleasant existence, but what I didn't realize was it was more like the calm before a storm.

Six weeks after Thatcher and I returned from our brief but passionate holiday in the Bahamas, I realized I had missed my period. I had been so occupied with my work, worrying about Mother, and the social events Thatcher insisted I attend that I hadn't thought about it. It hit me like a gust of cold wind while I was walking to my car in the student parking lot late one afternoon. I stopped, mentally reviewed the dates, then felt myself go numb, the blood rushing out of my face and down my neck.

With a thumping heart. I stopped at a drugstore on the way home and bought a pregnancy test. When I arrived at home, I hurried up to our suite and closed the door. I went into the bathroom, followed the easy directions, and, with my heart pounding stared at the stick indicator. In just about three minutes, it told me what I had sensed and feared was true. I was pregnant.

For a while I simply sat on the toilet looking at the floor. I had always taken the proper precautions, except for the weekend we had gone to the Bahamas, when I had been so carefree and foolish I had neglected to do so. Now, as if fate had been waiting eagerly at the door to get its grimy paws on me. I was faced with a new crisis, just when I didn't need anything else to add to the burden.

Pregnant!

How could I have let this happen now? I was just getting started on my education. I had Mother and Linden to care for and protect. Thatcher and I had barely started our marriage. I felt like whipping myself.

I spun around and looked at myself in the mirror,

"You, "I spit at my image. "You consider yourself a modern woman, an educated woman. You want to be responsible for the welfare and mental and emotional health of other people, and you, you do this foolish thing. How could you blunder like this?

"It serves you right. What right do you have even thinking of becoming a psychotherapist?"

I buried my head in my hands and started to cry. Then I imagined a knock on the door.

It was Daddy, listening as he had from time to time when I cried as a child.

What's wrong-, Willow?

Nothing, Daddy, I replied-- as always_. I wanted my problems coaxed out of me: I didn't want to feel guilty about telling them so quickly and willingly.

Tell me about nothing, then, he said, and waited patiently.