"Take care of our little 'Willow," she said. "And when it's the best time for it. Claude, and not a moment sooner, tell her about us. Promise me you will, but promise me you will use your skill and your expertise in deciding when that should be."
"I promise. Grace," I said.
I kissed her and held her in my arms for the last time. There was a knock on the door. Edith Hamilton had come to let us know Grace's limousine was here and the driver was waiting for instructions.
I carried her small suitcase myself and walked her to the limousine. Edith had a beautiful bouquet of red roses for her.
"To wish you the best of luck, my dear," she said. They hugged.
Ralston came out to wish her well, and then the whole day staff, all the attendants and nurses who had grown to admire her, came to hug her and kiss her and wish her well. She was crying now, but avoiding my eyes.
Remember I told you about the day she arrived? How I could recall every detail of it? It was the same the day she left. Willow. It was partly cloudy, but the sun was strong, and when it could peak down between clouds, it sent a shaft of light that chased away shadows and darkness and filled our hearts with promises.
Grace got into the limousine. I held the door open and told the driver I would close it. He could get into the car and start the engine. He did so and I stood there looking in at her.
"I'll be on the dock with a lantern swinging from my hand," she said. "to guide you to my waiting arms."
She turned away and I closed the door. It felt as if it had shut on my heart. Willow. The limousine started away, and I followed it down the driveway a bit and then stood there watching until it disappeared around the turn and was gone.
I couldn't go right back into the clinic. Instead. I walked and stood for a while under one of our great willow trees. I had to get hold of myself. I had a patient to see in less than an hour, and then we were having a staff conference later. My life wouldn't permit me to take too much time to mourn my tattered heart. I wandered about for a while, thinking.
Finally I felt strong enough and I walked back. I saw Ralston watching me from the window of his office. The concern in his face helped me get a firmer hold of myself. Later that evening I spent a good half hour at your crib watching you sleep, studying your face. seeing Grace in you.
Amou came by and stood beside me.
"This child." she said. "She will be a beautiful young woman like her mother and wise like her father."
I didn't have to answer. She saw the hope in my eyes and she smiled. I knew then how close you two would become, and I was so grateful for that.
Along with the doll your mother sent us, there was a letter. I was so silly about it, Willow. I didn't open it for days and days. She had sent me a short letter earlier to assure me she was fine, but this one, because it was with the doll, carried some special meaning for me. Every time I went to open it, my fingers trembled so. I had to stop. Finally, one rainy night after I had been home a while and you were asleep and Alberta had gone to bed. I went to my office and sat staring out the window, listening to the drops tap on the glass.
I reached into my drawer and took out the letter and then finally I opened it.
.
Dearest Claude,
I struggled .for a while trying to think of something I could give Willow. I thought about writing a long letter you would give her someday. I thought about pictures, but then, I found myself- working on this, and it seemed the best possible gift I could give her Please explain that for me when the time comes.
I'm doing better and better with Linden. Taking your advice, I've moved slowly, carefully, letting him grow with the truth. He's very artistic, too. I can't believe what he can do at his young age, and he loves working in the sand and creating things.
My mother is much better. She's settled into her new lifestyle well, and she is enjoying society again. The people who have rented our estate and who live in the big house are so occupied with their social life, they don't seem to notice Linden and me very much. It's actually more beautiful here for me than it ever was. I enjoy my long walks on the beach with Linden. It so quiet at times, I feel as if we are on our own island.I'm getting- stronger and stronger every day, and I no longer have any fears about myself Every once to a while I think about my daddy, but not like I used to. He's not walking on the beach or beckoning me to follow him anywhere, so don't be afraid of that. I think about his smile, his confident stride, his loving kisses and hugs, and all of the dreams he had for me. I have come to where I can cherish memories without them harming me or giving me such great pain, I can't breathe. You helped me get to this point, Claude. You really are a wonderful doctor, and I know; you will help so many, many more people In your -wonderful clinic. I could never feel good pulling you from that. A parade of troubled souls would haunt me.
Yet, I would be less than honest if I didn't tell you I dream our dream. We can have fantasies without them damaging us. You taught me that too, Claude; or, perhaps as you say, I taught you.
Occasionally, just to please myself and to k
eep you thriving in my heart, I go out to our dock at night. Don't feel bad about that, either. It good for me. Really.
I go out there, Claude, and I look out at the darkness and the sea and I wave a lit lantern.
I imagine you coining,.
I imagine you stepping off that boat and me rushing into your arms.
And I imagine you've brought a little girl along. She waits patiently, You step aside and she looks at me and without a bit of prompting, she says, Mommy."
What a wonderful word that is, Claude.