Willow (35 page)

She came back toward me, lifting her long, bony finger like a pointer and waving it. "You can mock me now and belittle my advice all you want, but in time, you'll come to see things my way, and you'll regret your behavior."
She paused and gathered her shoulders back, then took a deep breath, narrowed her eves, and continued. "It is the unfortunate burden of mature and experienced people to try to guide the young and then to have to stand by and watch them make foolish errors out of stubbornness or a mistaken value placed on independence. You can spend your life mulling over your regrets, or you can listen and do the right thing and find some contentment.
"Maybe that's not exactly how my brother would speak to you. but
I
feel in my heart that is what he would mean."
"I'll make my own decisions. Aunt Agnes," I insisted.
Her eyes turned to dark river stones. "Do as you wish," she concluded, throwing up her hand. She turned and marched out of my house.
I
heard the door slam behind her. and I was left with the echo of that ringing in my ears and the echo of her warnings and threats lingering in the air.
Now, finally alone.
I
could sit back and cry. All the people I had loved and who had loved me were gone or far away. My newly discovered mother was overburdened with her sad memories and troubles. Thatcher was now like one of those festive party balloons broken free, drifting in the wind, drifting away.
There was nothing left to do but pack up the memorabilia I cherished in this house and set it aside. The day was fast approaching when
I
would leave here for good, cast myself out into the same sea as Linden had. I had no idea where the wind would take me, how it would fill my sails, but maybe, like him_. I had little choice but to have faith in something bigger than myself: fate or destiny or some good angel who would smile down on me and not let me drift too far or too dangerously close to the rocks.
Suddenly, it began to rain.
It
grew quickly into a cloud burst, making the house feel damp and chilly as well as dark. The drops tapped on the windows as if nature demanded my attention, reminding me that the world could be cold and cruel and my aunt Agnes's words were not just the warnings of a bitter woman.
Then
I
heard my father's miniature grandfather clock bong, its sound traveling freely through the empty house, informing me that time was now the magic carpet taking me along, bringing me closer and closer to the answers for the questions.
Who am I?
What will become of me?

Epilogue
.
The couple who came to look at the property

made an offer the day afterward. We began a negotiation, and for that and what followed.
I
relied heavily on Mr. Bassinger's advice. Two days later, the couple agreed to our counteroffer, and the property was sold.
It
was to be a fast escrow. It would close in thirty days, and so
I
had to use that time to decide what
I
would keep and what I would put in storage. The couple came back to look over the furnishings and decided in the end to take almost everything except Daddy's office furnishings. The wife wanted to brighten it up with much lighter woods. That was fine to me.
I
envisioned putting it all in my own home someday.

I
spent my time going through the attic, marking things I would consign to thrift shops and things I wanted to be placed in storage.
I
packed Daddy's books and many of my own things in cartons.

I
called my mother every day over the next ten days. Linden was finally well enough to be taken home, but he was still in a dysfunctional state of mind, suffering continuous memory loss, especially about what had happened to him. He had no memory of going out in his sailboat and could tell no one what had been the cause of his accident. The doctors told my mother it was not unusual for someone who experienced terrifying trauma to persist in avoiding thinking about it.

"He's very irritable and seems incapable of concentrating on anything. I tried to get him to return to his painting, but all he does is stare at his easel and his paints and pencils. Most of the day is spent sitting and staring at the ocean. He's lost weight. Of course."

"Does he remember me or mention me at all?" I asked.
"No," she said. "I'm sorry."
"He's not the only one who's apparently forgotten me," I complained.
She was silent a moment. "I think Bunny Eaton is working hard on Thatcher, trying to get him involved with this woman or that. I've seen three dinner parties and one afternoon event since you've left, and at each. I've seen young women," she told me.
"Yes, well, good luck to them all."
"I did see Thatcher one day. He came over and asked about Linden, but he was there to talk about something else. really."
"Oh?"
'The Eatons have decided to make an offer on the property and exercise their option. I guess they want to get rid of us enough to buy us out," she said.
"What are you going to do?"
"It's a lot of money. Linden and I could live well someplace else. I am a little worried about how he'll react to that, however, and asked Thatcher to hold off until Linden is stronger and less likely to be negatively affected. The doctors ate," she said.
"What did Thatcher say?"
"He said fine, but
I
don't think the Eatons will be very patient. Their lease is up in three months, and they either have to buy or extend it."
"You don't have to sell, do you?"
"If I sell, it has to be at the price agreed to. but I don't have to sell. Only I can't keep up the mortgage and the upkeep of the property without their rent or someone's renting it. I'll lose it all in a foreclosure, and they'll get it. anyway. I feel I haven't much choice."
I thought for a moment. Is Thatcher the only attorney you have had?"
"No. There's an older man. Mr, Kasten. He's practically retired. though."
"Do you have any idea about the cost of upkeep?"
"You mean for the whole estate?"
"Yes."
"No, not really. I have an accountant. Leo Ross. I usually just sign what he tells me to sign."
"I want my lawyer to call him and your lawyer and discuss your situation with them. Is that all right?"
"Why?"
"I have an idea." I said. 'let me see about it first. Just let them both know a Mr. Bassinger will be calling them right away, okay?"
"I don't know. I don't like the sound of this," she said. "I don't want you doing anything- that isn't good for you. too. Willow."
"I won't. That's why I have my own attorney. Okay?"
She was silent a moment and then, with some reluctance, agreed.
The moment we ended our conversation. I phoned Mr. Bassinger and told him what I was thinking.
"I'll look into it right away," he promised. ''But I'll warn you now. Willow, if this is an impulsive, illogical thing. I'll tell you and strongly advise you against it, even though it is your real mother with whom were involving you."
"That's what I want you to do," I said. "Okay," he said.
Two days later, he called for me to come to his office.
"I haven't seen the property, of course." he began. "so I have to rely on what I'm being told about it and on what some friends of mine in Palm Beach have told me as well. From what they all say, these people who have an option to buy it at a set price would, it appears, be practically stealing it."
"That's what I suspected," I said.
"On the other hand, your mother couldn't put it up for sale without their having the opportunity to buy it at that price first. It's in their agreement,
understand?"
"So her only option is to keep possession until the present rental agreement and option to buy ran out?"
"Yes." he said. smiling. "You're more of a businessperson than your father was. I think."
"Daddy hated to be bothered with such mundane matters as taxes and mortgages and stocks and bonds. I know. He had no patience for it."
"Well, fortunately for him, and for you, he had very good advisors, an excellent business manager and stockbroker, and now, with the sale of your property... well..."
'Yes?" I said anxiously.
"If you're put on the deed-- in other words, if you get a percentage of the asset-- it could, with the way the real estate market is exploding down there, be a very good investment. You could carry the costs of the property and still be comfortable, as long as you don't get caught up in the Palm Beach lifestyle and spend beyond your means." he warned,
"There's no danger of that."
I
assured him.
He laughed. "Never say never is my motto, but okay, you understand what I'm saying."
"Yes."
"Is this really what you want to do. Willow? Do you believe it would be the best thing for your mother and your stepbrother and you?"
"I do, and I think-- no.
I
know for certain-- Daddy would want me to do this. Mr. Bassinger."
"Possibly. He was a great deal more romantic than he let on." he said. He thought a moment, 'Okay, let me explore it all. I'll get back to you in a day or two, and you can make a final decision then." "Thank you."
"These people..." He looked at his papers. "The Eatans... they're not going to be very fond of you, Willow."
"They'll get over it."
I
said. "They'll pour themselves some champagne, arrange for a party, and spend away their unhappiness. Sadness,
disappointment, and defeat are not permitted there, and anyone caught frowning is immediately arrested by the Fun Police."
He laughed. "Why is it
I
feel you're doing this with an impish grin on your face. Willow?"
"I can't imagine," I said.
He laughed, and I left his office, feeling excited and optimistic. I couldn't wait to get home and call my mother to tell her what I wanted to do.
"And your lawyer thought this was prudent?" she asked. "More than prudent, a good business decision."
"Is this what you really want. Willow? Because if I thought for one moment that you were doing this out of some sort of pity. or some sort of imagined obligation to your father or to me.
I
would be very upset."
"It's what I really want," I said definitively. "If it's all right with you, of course."
"How could something as wonderful as this not be all right with me?"
And with Linden?"
^-
He's not yet ready to consider such questions. I'm afraid," she said sadly.
"He will be I'll be there to help and to bring him back.
I
know I can do some good."
Every medical student, every psychology student begins to think he or she can practice, diagnose, and prescribe before he or she is truly prepared to do so. I thought the moment after
I
uttered those words. It underlines the truth behind the old saying that a little knowledge is a dangerous thing. I knew I shouldn't be making such promises and claims, but I couldn't help it.
"Oh. I believe in you, Willow. Very well," she said after a moment of thought, "Have your attorney do what has to be done and call my accountant. Maybe together we can do battle against all the forces that would destroy us.
^-
"Yes,"
I
said. smiling, "we can and we will."
I was very excited after speaking with her and immediately called Mr. Bassinger, asking him to get things arranged as quickly as possible.
In the days that followed. I completed the packing and storing of valued family possessions and Daddy's office furnishings, Aunt Agnes called very soon after she had been informed of the sale. I hadn't called her, but she had her spies.
"Why didn't you phone me immediately?" she demanded the moment I said hello,
"Aunt Agnes?" I asked, pretending not to recognize her voice.
"Yes. yes. Well?"
"Call you about what?" I asked, expressing innocence and ignorance.
The estate! How could you not realize what I was asking about?"
"I've had so much on my mind these past days. Aunt Agnes. Please forgive me. And, oh, please tell Margaret Selby that
I
will not be able to attend her wedding after all. I have to return to Palm Beach for some important business matters."
"What business matters?"
"Oh, just some investments, nothing
glamorous," I said.
"Investments? In what?"
"Why, property, of course. Real estate is the best sort of investment these days, Aunt Agnes. I'm surprised you don't know that."
"I know it. What sort of real estate.
commercial?"
"No. Please, don't bother yourself so with all this. You have so much going on back there with the wedding and all. I'll be fine. I have Mr. Bas singer helping me, of course."
She was silent a moment, digesting it all quickly. "Why would you return to that place, considering the information everyone there has about you and your... real mother?" she asked.
"Daddy taught me never to run and hide but to face my problems head on and never be intimidated by them. Good advice, don't you think?"
"No," she snapped. "I would prefer living where people didn't resent me or mock me."
"There is probably no place in the world where that doesn't happen. Aunt Agnes," I said. I meant to her, of course, but she missed the point and rattled on and on about how I should put such an idea to bed and come live with her. She made the argument that using my inheritance, she and I could fix up her property and make it very comfortable. In time, she would introduce me to fine young men of some social standing, and
I,
like Margaret Selby, would marry. The very idea of such a thing nearly made me sick.
I thanked her but tried to make my
no
as definite as I could. She refused to accept it as such and ended by predicting that
I
would realize she was right and turn to her one day.
"I'll be here for you, waiting." she promised. "Out of respect for my poor dead brother."
"That's very kind of you, Aunt Agnes. Have a wonderful wedding party." I added, and hung up, feeling as if I had just cut the last cord tying me to my old life.
It was time to start anew.
However. I didn't want to give up on my career and education, so next
I
looked into what educational institutions were available.
I
located Florida Atlantic University in Jupiter, which was about a forty-minute drive from Palm Beach. I called and learned they had the program I wanted to pursue.
I
next asked that my transcripts be sent from the University of North Carolina and made arrangements to matriculate the next semester.
Feeling
I
had taken a good hold of my life and the future for my mother. Linden, and myself.
I
completed the rest of my arrangements. I decided to keep my father's old Mercedes. He had always maintained it well. It looked practically brand new. Right after the escrow closed. I packed the car with as much as
I
could and had the rest of my things sent to my mother's home-- my home. now.
"I'm coming!" I cried into the phone. "I'll be leaving for Palm Beach in the morning."
"I can't deny I'm very excited about it. Willow. I did sit with Linden today and explain it to him, and his eyes did seem to widen and brighten with interest."
"Oh, good."
"Then he returned to his depressed state, the light dimming again."
"We'll get it burning brightly. I won't stop tying until we do."
"I know," she said. "I'm grateful." Then she paused and said, "Thatcher called this morning. He had heard from my accountant, and he was quite shocked,
'I
can't guarantee you that my parents will remain your tenants.' he said. and I said I was not expecting them to remain and, in fact, would like not to go on renting the property."
"What did he say?"
"He thought I had taken leave of my senses, of course, and tried to convince me that I was making a very big mistake. Then..."
"What?"
I
could sense her hesitation, "He didn't threaten you?"
"Oh. no He was very soft-spoken and
concerned. I meant to say he asked about you."
"He did?" My heart began to pound, even though I didn't want to feel that
I
would go running back to him the moment he showed me the slightest interest, "What did you tell him?"
"I asked him why he didn't just call you directly, and he said he was planning to, but he wanted to give you a chance to settle down. I know he thinks you're not coming back here, at least for a while. He did sound very sad about it. In the end, he muttered that he was going to call you soon."
"Won't he be surprised,"
I
thought aloud.
"Yes. I imagine he will be quite surprised," my mother said. "I'll see you very soon," I told her.
"Have a safe trip." she said.
I
had thought a great deal about Thatcher during the time I had been home. Every time the phone rang. I had expected it to be him, making some excuse for why he hadn't called earlier, blaming his work or whatever.
I
was even prepared to be understanding and hide my disappointment. After all.
I
was sure his parents, and especially his mother, had put all sorts of pressure on him. But it was never him calling.
Up until my final night in the house. I was hoping he would call as he had told my mother, but the phone didn't ring at all after Mr. Bassinger called to tell me every
^-
thing had been done, my accounts set up, my investment made, my inclusion on the property deed now just a matter of time.
The last, most difficult thing for me was to look into my father's empty office, the furniture all taken and put in storage, the shelves bare. It was truly as though it made his death final, a period placed at the end of a sentence, a door shutting, a light going out Everything that had been him, that had kept his memory vivid in my mind and in my senses, was gone from this room, the room in which he had done so much of his thinking, his dreaming, and surely his regretting.
"Goodbye, Daddy," I whispered. "I hope what I'm doing would have pleased you, will please you It's too painful for me to be here without you. I'm going to be with the one living person who remembers the sound of your voice, your laughter, as vividly as I do and cherishes those memories as much. We have you to share and to bring us closer together. Thank you for that."
I didn't think I would sleep. but
I
did. It wasn't to relieve fatigue: it was to find escape, to stop my mind from thinking and worrying and mourning. I was up almost with the sun itself. When I walked out of the house for the last time. I took a deep breath and looked over the grounds. So much of what I was. what
I
had become, was created here. The halls still echoed with Amou's voice. I could even hear my own little footsteps on the stairway, It was time to shut the door on all that.
I
thought.