"Yes, yes I think we are."
"Good." Mercifully he went on to another patient, and I returned to my office. At the end of the day I considered remaining to have dinner with Grace. but I battled with myself and defeated that part of me that wanted it so very much.
At home Alberta was her talkative self, rambling on and on about the chamber of commerce ball. She was insistent that I attend it and drew repeated promises from me that I would not forget nor make any other appointment for that date. She actually had me sign a paper that stated. I, Claude De Beers, will attend the chamber of commerce ball
"I will show this to everyone and anyone should you not be at my side that evening. Claude." she threatened. "The whole world will know what an absolute cad you are."
How trivial and silly it all seemed to me to be at her side at such an event compared to being at Grace's side, even to take a simple walk in the gardens at the clinic.
Later in the evening I tried to do some reading. Alberta had retired to take a herbal bath and do her skin and hair treatments. My eyes kept slipping from the pages of what I was reading until I looked up at the wall and saw Grace Montgomery and myself standing on the hill, me holding her, her head against my chest.
Are you happy now, Doctor, happy in your marriage? I heard her ask me again.
How my heart ached. Willow. I could not stand it any longer. I rose and looked for Miles. He was outside, finishing washing the car.
"I need to return to the clinic. Miles." I said. "Now?"
"Immediately."
He nodded, put everything away quickly, and got behind the wheel. Moments later we were flying through the night, my heart thumping. I had no idea what I would do. what I would say. But I felt wonderful doing this.
"Should I wait for you, Doctor?" Miles asked when we pulled up.
"Yes, Miles." I said. "You can go to the recreation room and watch television if you like."
"Very good." he said and I hurried in.
Nadine Gordon was on duty this night and she saw me enter. "Is anything wrong. Dr. De Beers?" she asked immediately.
"No, no. I have something to complete. Go on with your usual duties," I said, waving her off as officially and firmly as I could.
I could feel her eyes on the back of my head as I charged down the corridor, first to my office and then, quietly, to the patients' dormitory. Once again, sneaking about like a errant teenager. approached Grace's door, I knocked softly and then opened it.
She was standing by the window looking out and turned slowly when I appeared. I closed the door softly behind me. She gazed at me without speaking. She was in her nightgown, her hair down. Willow, it was as if I were truly under a spell. I think I floated across that small room until I was inches from her. Neither of us had uttered a syllable yet. She looked up at me, that small, precious smile forming on her lips.
"Grace," I finally found the strength to say, and then. Claude De Beers be damned. I did it. Willow.
I kissed her, tentatively at first and then with more passion than I ever imagined I had within me.
And she kissed me back and held on to me like a castaway bobbing in that sea of turmoil who had found something solid to cling to.
"I'm here," I said. "For you." And it began.
6
Cain's Confession
.
A brilliant colleague of mine, another wellknown psychiatrist and philosopher who is the author of many of the classic works in our field, has written that the criminal or the immoral person ironically finds relief in the so-called criminal or immoral act. Up until the time he or she commits it, their
consciences torment them. They struggle and da battle with good and evil forces within themselves and
in that they suffer. When they finally act, they end the discussion. It's over. They've committed themselves and there is, according to my colleague, great relief. Be calls it Cain's Confession syndrome. It's equivalent to shouting at his conscience. 'I did it! Stop haunting me!"
Oh. did I do it, Willow. I began a secret relationship that would make me deceitful and conniving, a liar in my own house and dishonest with my closest friend. for I could not in the beginning trust anyone with the truth, not even Ralston. I had just come to the point where I was able to trust myself with it.
"I could hurt you," Grace told me that night. Of course she was referring to her curse. I laughed and told her. "Not any more than I could hurt myself or more to the point, hurt you. Grace."