Wicked Forest (DeBeers 2)

"No," he said. "I can't. I have to stay here and finish my work for her."

"Okay,' I said. With my handkerchief. I dabbed the tears on his face, and then I wiped them from my own. "I'll be back as soon as I finish.'

He nodded and quickly turned back to the window.

I left him standing there looking down at the dock. How I wished that the world he saw was the real one, and the world I moved in was illusion.

.

Mr. Ross, our accountant, one of the first people I had met when I came here, turned out to be of great assistance to me. As soon as he heard about Mother's death, he called and told me he would take care of all the monetary matters. The Eatons didn't call, but Thatcher did. It was a short conversation. His secretary called and told me to hold on, and then Thatcher came on the line, sounding like he was in his car on his cellular phone and being patched in.

"I'm sorry about Grace," he said, "I was fond of her.'

"Thank you."

"When is the funeral?"

"The day after tomorrow at eleven."

"Oh. I'm due in court." he said. "Are you all right?"

"Yes." I said quickly. What I really meant was, if I wasn't, you would be the last to know.

"Okay. I'm sorry," he repeated, and said goodbye.

I called Aunt Agnes to tell her because I knew she would be insulted if I didn't, even though I also knew she wouldn't attend the funeral, nor would any of my relatives, Then I phoned Amou, and she and I had a good cry together over thousands of miles. Her words of comfort were the medicine I needed at the moment.

Manon and the others phoned and told me they would be at the funeral. I thanked them for that. The Butterworth twins and some of my other friends at school paid a visit, those who could promising to attend the funeral.

Linden spent most of the time in his room or in his studio. If I didn't make sure food was sent up to him, he wouldn't have eaten. He certainly didn't want to greet any visitors. The first two nights, I heard him wandering the hallways. I knew he paid frequent visits to Mother's suite. Perhaps it was his way of finally convincing himself she was really gone.

I went to her room myself and sifted through some of her things. It was a way for me to feel closer to her, to hold on to her awhile longer. While doing so, I discovered some photographs she had buried in a small box in a bottom dresser drawer. They were early pictures of her and my grandmother, Jackie Lee. There were pictures of her stepfather, Winston Montgomery. too. He was a very handsome man, and she looked comfortable, even loving with him in the pictures she had.

I could see more resemblances between my mother and myself when we were both in our early teens. Her face was brighter, full of life and joy. This was some time before she was seduced by Kirby Scott, of course. She still held on to that look of innocence and wonder we all see in young girls and remember once in ourselves. It's the beginning of the longing and the regret that comes with growing up and leaving your childhood behind.

On the second night after Mother's death. Professor Fuentes came to see me. He had been down in Miami attending the christening of a cousin's new baby, and said he had just learned the news,

"We have one of those families that comes to events in packs," he joked.

"I envy you that." I told him.

We were in the den off the rear loggia where I had first met the Eatons, and where Thatcher had appeared, surprisingly, after seeing me first at the Breakers. I'd had no idea at the time he was related to these people who were renting the property from my mother. There had been such electricity and excitement between us then. Now, when I sat here and thought about it. I wondered how we could ever protect ourselves against the little betrayals we commit against ourselves, Had I really loved Thatcher, or was I just excited by him, the woman in me stirred so deeply I thought whatever it was would last forever?

Somehow we believe that true love is everlasting in this life by definition. That was why we said. "To love and to cherish until death do us part."

Professor Fuentes gazed at everything and shook his head. He had been here only for the wedding.

"This is an impressive house," he said. Then he smiled. "For a future therapist, that is."

"I know, I've been wondering now if I shouldn't put it up for sale."

"Don't make any decisions for a while." he advised. "Unless, of course, you have to for financial reasons."

"No, that won't be the reason why I sell, if I sell." "What about your half brother?"

"I don't know. He's not doing well facing up to the reality of my mother's death. Tomorrow should bring it home to him, and then we will see," I said.

"Where is he now?"