Wicked Forest (30 page)

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Authors: VC Andrews

Tags: #horror, #Fiction, #General, #Suspense, #Psychological, #Sagas

BOOK: Wicked Forest
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And then, it seemed to me, the famous second shoe dropped.

.

The women of the Club d' Amour had been so confident when they predicted Thatcher would insist on setting up a prenuptial agreement between us. I had nearly forgotten all about that. and when I did think of it once or twice. I smiled to myself because we were so close to our wedding date and he had not yet even broached the subject.

Then, five days before our wedding, he paused at the door as he left for work and, as if just remembering something, asked me to stop by his office that afternoon.

"Why?"

"I have something we should discuss." he said.

"Don't look so serious. It's routine. but I'd like to do it right and get it over with quickly. You'll see." He kissed me quickly before leaving. I stood there at the door thinking about it, and my anxiety mounted all day until it was finally time to go to his office. Maybe it was something altogether different. I told myself.

He made such a big show of greeting me in front of his secretaries and assistants, I couldn't imagine him bringing up anything that would put tarnish on the brightness of our love. Then he closed the door behind us in his office and sat me down at his desk, where he had a small pile of papers set aside.

"I would be one stupid lawyer if I hadn't done this," he began. "Sort of like the shoemaker without shoes."

"What is it. Thatcher?"

"Well, the legal term for it is a prenuptial agreement, but this is nothing like those stiff. formal contracts I prepare for some of my clients. This is just what we need to be sensible, and nothing else."

"Sensible?"

He sat back, pressing the tips of his fingers against each other.

"I know I have lived the life of a bon vivant.

hedonistic and at times reckless. I have earned my reputation here in Palm Beach. Some of it I can blame on my parents and my sister and their damn concern about the social register, but for most of it. I have only myself to blame.

"However," he continued, sitting forward with an intent, dramatic look on his face. "it's no secret that after I met you. Willow. I was like someone who finally took a good look in the mirror and realized who he was and what he was and what he should be.

I've said it before and I'll say it again, with you I want to be responsible, mature, and productive." He smiled,

"You bring the best out in me, the man out in the boy."

"What's that have to do with all this. Thatcher?"

I asked, nodding at the papers.

"Everything. We will have a family someday, maybe sooner than we think, and just as the family is the foundation of society, the marriage is the core of the family, the spine, and if it's not strong, protected, the family is weaker. By reducing or eliminating potential conflicts that could arise in the future, we diminish and eliminate stress, and you know what stress can do to people. You know better than anyone.

Willow, or as well as anyone could."

"I don't need all this preparation. I don't like feeling like one of your clients. Thatcher," I said sharply.

He winced and nodded.

"I'm sorry. It's just habit for me to talk this way."

"What is it you want me to do?" I pursued.

Disappointment, like leaks in a boat, could threaten to sink a love and relationship. I thought.

"Getting married means more than just pledging to live together and consenting to have sexual relations. Getting married is entering into a serious legal relationship, Willow. It has diverse consequences on your ownership of your money and possessions, the way you raise your children, our relationship to each other."

"Don't you think I know all that?"

"Of course, but when people talk and work out issues before they get married, they have a greater ability, better tools to use to remain happy.

"I tell my clients to consider all this the way they consider life insurance. You don't buy it intending to die, do you? You buy it to provide for your loved ones in the event of death. It's just good planning. You want that, too, don't you. Willow?"

"Yes," I admitted. but I couldn't keep my voice from sounding small nor my heart from tripping beats.

"These papers just organize our assets and set up a method by which they are distributed should we find our marriage to be a mistake. which I don't have any expectation of happening. Not to be boring, these papers elaborate on what our individual debts at the moment are, how we'll handle gifts given to each or both of us, elaborating on what are our nonmarital assets and how we want to treat them, et cetera.

"You understand what I mean by all this, don't you? You realize it doesn't diminish my love for you even an iota. right?"

Rather than nod. I closed and opened my eyes.

"But. as I said, what would it look like if I never had this done for us? What a laughingstock I would be, and how would that be viewed by my clients and prospective clients, huh? You don't want to go to a doctor who neglects his own health, do you?"

"I don't need any more rationale. Thatcher. I'll read the papers," I said bluntly, and picked them up.

"I've upset you," he said, sitting back. "I would rather have looked the fool,"

"No. You're right. I'll read them. In fact." I said.

smiling, "I'll have them all faxed to my attorney. Mr.

Bassinger, who is coming to our wedding, and get his comments, too. How's that for good, sensible preparation?"

He stared at me.

"I just mean to do the right things for us.

'Willow, to protect you as well as myself and our family."

"And I'm grateful for that. You won't charge us for it, will you. Thatcher?"

He looked startled, then laughed when I smiled,

"Now I know more about why I love you so."

he said. "You are the most mature and sensible young woman I have met yet. What a bonus to add to your beauty."

"Compliments will get you everywhere," I said.

He smiled and then kissed me.

"You can use my fax machine, if you like, and get it to Mr. Bassinger right away."

"Good. Let's do that."

He called in his secretary and had her carry out the arrangements.

"Well, then." he said. "that's over with. We won't mention it again."

"Unless my attorney has something to suggest,"

I said.

"Of course."

He told me he had a very important dinner meeting to attend and asked if I wanted to join him.

"No. I think I'd better stay home tonight. I'm picking up Amou at the airport tomorrow, and my mother is nervous about everything."

"Sure, Okay. I'll see you later, then." he said.

and I left.

No matter what his reasoning and the

reasonableness of his voice, and no matter how many times I told myself he was only doing what he thought was right for us. I couldn't prevent something hard and heavy from growing in my chest, making it ache.

I glanced up at a sky turned stormy and foreboding, heralding rain and wind. It sent me home faster.

-Are you all right?" Mother asked as soon as she set eyes on me.

"Yes," I said, but then began to cry, She sat with me and listened as I described my session with Thatcher in his office.

It doesn't sound very romantic. I know, but the world has become so complicated. I suppose," she said. "I can understand him feeling that. as an attorney, he should take care of these things, but it does take a bit of the glow from the candles. It's not something Romeo and Juliet would have considered."

I laughed.

"Yes, I can see that scene in the play. The monk advising the two of them to see a lawyer, especially because of the animosity between their two families."

We laughed, and I wiped a fugitive tear from my cheek. "I'm too busy to think about it anyway."

"Of course you are. and I'm sure it will never be an issue between you again."

Was she. I wondered, or do we all say the things to people that we know they want to hear? We ignore so much about ourselves, especially our own mortality. Maybe the Bunny Eatons of the world were better off after all. See everything through rose-colored glasses, deny the dark clouds their hold over us, spend your life avoiding sadness and depression.

Dedicate yourself to it with such energy and vigor, you never have a reason to stop and think and mourn lost childhood faiths.

The storm brought rain and shut out the stars. I went to sleep early and didn't wait up for Thatcher, who came home late anyway.

What a welcome brightness it was for me,

therefore, to be at the terminal gate the next day, waiting for Amou to deplane. I had not seen her for so long, and I was happy to see immediately that she had put on some weight. At five feet nine, she had always been on the thin side. When I was a little girl. I worried that she would wither like fruit on a vine and get blown away by a fierce wind. My adoptive mother was also tall, but so much more substantial-looking.

perhaps because of her hard demeanor. Amou always looked like a lightweight in the ring with a heavyweight when my adoptive mother confronted her. Why Amou staved with us so long. I'd never know. Anyone else serving such a demanding mistress would have long before found excuses to leave, I told myself it was only because of me. At least. I hoped it was.

Amou wasn't as beautiful as my adoptive

mother, but my adoptive mother was jealous of Amou's vibrantly red hair, which she kept long, down to her shoulder blades. Often I would sit beside her in her room while she untied her hair and brushed and brushed it, telling me how important it was to care for your hair. She had a secret formula for natural shampoo that involved olive oil and eggs and other things she wouldn't reveal, especially to my adoptive mother, who constantly nagged her about cutting her beautiful hair.

"Why do you bother keeping it so long if you always wear it tied up anyway? What a waste of your time!" she would tell Amou.

Amou always nodded as if she agreed, but

ignored her. It was the way she handled my mother, a way that made me smile to remember now. In her own way. Amou was a better psychiatrist than my father, or at least as good when it came to dealing with my adoptive mother. She once whispered her secret to me.

"Remember. Willow, a branch that does not bend will always break. Bend with the wind to fool the wind. Let the wind think it is the master, and when it stops, go back to being what you were. In time the wind will grow tired and pass you by."

She was right. My adoptive mother eventually stopped criticizing her, claiming it was a waste of her time if Amou wasn't going to take her good advice.

Amou said nothing. She kept those rosy, full lips in a tight, small smile and shifted her brown-speckled green eyes at me. We were conspirators by then, allies in a war within my own house, she and I against my adoptive mother, neither of us daring to challenge her face-to-face, but instead snaking ourselves around her, burrowing beneath her, flying over her, avoiding her, treating her as if she were invisible as much as we could until, like some exhausted conquering army, she decided to retire from the field and not be bothered any longer. Her indifference became our victory.

"Amour I cried, and ran to her.

She hugged and kissed me, the tears streaming down her face. "Look at you.
Lindo! Muito lindo
. My beautiful Willow."

"And you. Amou. You have finally gained some weight."

"Don't remind me," she said, her eyes wide,

"My sister thinks I have two mouths and two stomachs when she cooks, and you know how I hate to waste food."

"It looks good on you." "Never mind."

"Let's go. I can't wait for you to meet Mother and Linden and especially Thatcher."

We picked up her luggage and headed back to Jaya del Mar. During the trip I told her about Miles, my father's loyal servant, the funeral. how I had sold the property; and then I told her more about Linden and his problems.

"Heartache for
seua mae
, for your mother."

"Yes, she has suffered in so many ways, but she is happy now. Amou. I think that for the first time in years, she is truly happy."

"She has you. Why not? You brought the light into the house.
Seu pal
, he always said so, if not in words, with his eyes."

"How long did you know the truth about my father and my mother. Amou?"

She glanced at me,

"You knew for a long time, didn't you?" I guessed.

"From the beginning.
Seu pal
honored me with his deepest secret and knew that I would never betray it or him or leave you until I was sure you needed me no longer."

'I'll always need you. Amou."

"Yes, but from a distance now. Willow," she said, and we both laughed. The sound of her laughter was like a wave of warm love, remembrances, cherished memories raining down on me, bathing me in hope and happiness again.

"I can't believe you're here, you're really here!"

"Stop. I am just an old lady. Make nothing more of me," she warned.

"Believe what you want." I said. "I'll treat you like the wind and I'll bend."

She laughed harder and shook her head, "If only the doctor could be here. too."

"He is. Amou. I believe he is."

"So do I." she said, and we drove through the gates of Joya del Mar.

"What a place!" she cried. "You have become a princess."

"Hardly," I assured her.

The moment Mother met Amou. I could see

they would be friends forever. As was Amou's way, she kissed Mother on both cheeks. They looked like they would both begin to cry.

"Thank you for being the mother to my daughter that I was unable to be." Mother told Amou.

"It was easy with such a child," Amou replied.

"I wasn't always easy, Amou. What about the time I painted the kitchen walls with honey and you had ants forever?"

"To this day. I think of that whenever I put honey in anything," Amou admitted.

Jennings took Amou's things to her room. and Mother and I showed her Joya del Mar.

“Um palacio
!"Amou exclaimed, "This is truly a palace. One would think there are kings and queens in America."

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