Wicked Forest (DeBeers 2)

to get to the truth. Thatcher? You can't live in limbo

with this, and we can't let it hover over our heads like

ominous storm clouds forever."

"I know. I know." he said. squeezing his

forehead with his thumb and forefinger as though it all

gave him a constant headache. I did feel sorry for him. Are you going to have a blood test or

something like that?" I asked.

"I'd have to tell my father everything. How can

I do that?" he practically cried. "How can I be the one

to tell him that my mother was once unfaithful? Even

if it was only once." he muttered as far under his

breath as he could, realizing that the couple at the

nearest table had turned our way.

He looked desperate, distraught. defeated. "I feel like I'm boxed in, and that is not

something I have experienced much in my life." "I'm sure you'll find a way to make sense out of

it all. Thatcher," I assured him, and put my hand out

to touch his.

Here I was again, finding myself in the role of

cheerleader, with all my heavy baggage to carry.

Daddy once told me it was sometimes a blessing to

have other people's problems on your mind-- it kept

you from fretting too much about your own. Solving

someone else's difficulties often brings more pleasure

than solving your own. Still. I felt a little bit like the

patient telling the doctor he would be fine. Thatcher

was the man of action here, the person with all the

resources at his beck and call. Who was I to advise

him or predict anything?

He leaned toward me to whisper. "I'm tracking

him down." he revealed. "You are?"