Wicked Forest (40 page)

The buoys sounded in the night.

Warning.

All we could do was wait and hope It would somehow turn and pass by us.

It didn't.

I wasn't deliberately looking for excuses not to join Manon and the women of the Club d'Amour for lunch when they called a few weeks later. but I had a conflict at school that I couldn't avoid. Manon sounded very annoyed.

"I appreciate that you're attending college.

Willow," she said. "but we're attending the real world.

You should not neglect it."

I had no idea what she was referring to. but I didn't get angry. I apologized and promised to make a real effort to see them all soon. She hung up in a huff.

and I did not expect to hear from her or any of them again, but the following Tuesday. Jennings had a message for me when I returned from class. It simply read,
Manon Florette. Call immediately
, and her number.

Figuring it was just another of their dramatic social crises. I did not rush to a phone. I changed, spent some time with Mother, and then returned to my suite and girded myself for what I imagined was going to be some silly conversation. She answered on the first ring,

"I've been waiting for your call. Your butler told me when you were expected." she snapped.

"I'm sorry. Some unexpected things came up," I said. "You have no idea how unexpected," she retorted. "What is it. Manon?"

"The others have all set aside whatever they were doing to meet with you. Be at the Rosebud in fifteen minutes. You know where it is and you know it's close by."

"What is this about?"

"Just be there," she said. and hung up before I could offer some excuse. I was annoyed. but I couldn't help being somewhat curious. This was over-the-top.

even for the members of the so-called Club d'Amour.

The Rosebud was a small coffeehouse. but it had a very pretty garden patio from which you could see the ocean. if you had the right table. I had no doubt Marion would have the right table. but we weren't meeting there to enjoy the scenery. I could see them sitting on the patio when I arrived. I was surprised that they were all there before me. It made me think they had all been at Marion's home when I called. all waiting with her. That realization turned my heart into a tiny drum, the beats increasing with every step I took toward the entrance of the restaurant. I went in and through the small lobby to the side door to the patio. They all looked my way, all with the same intense expression. It took my breath away,

"What's going on?" I managed, and sat. The waiter pounced.

"Just coffee," Marion snapped at him. He nodded and fled,

"We have told you what we do, why we formed our alliance," Manon began, nodding at the others.

They were all focused on me.

"So?"

"We have rather hard news for you. Naturally.

because of your present condition, there was some debate as to whether we should reveal anything at this time. but after a thorough discussion. we all decided your condition made it even more essential we don't put it off."

"Put what off. Manon? All this high drama might be exciting to you all, but—"

-Thatcher is having an affair." she blurted.

"Actually, it would be more accurate to say continuing one.‖

"Absolutely more accurate." Marjorie piped up.

I glared at her for a moment and then, my heart now pounding, turned back to Manon.

"What are you saving?"

"Years ago, before you arrived on the scene.

Thatcher had what everyone thought was a very serious relationship with a woman named Mai Stone."

"I know all about Mai Stone," I said quickly.

"Do you?"

Their smiles annoyed me.

"Yes. I know he was serious about her, but she left him for a very wealthy prince and—"

"She did and she didn't. From time to time, we heard of her secret forays back to Palm Beach, her sexual assaults on young Mr. Eaton," Manon continued,

"They even had a love nest of sorts." Sharon said.

"A beach house that Addison Steele, a rich friend of his, has here." Liana added. and I felt my face turn so red, I thought the blood would pop the top off of my head.

The waiter brought the coffee and set it down.

No one spoke, but everyone stared at me. Then Sharon turned to Manon,

"I told you it might not be healthy for her. She looks at she's going to abort right on the spot."

The waiter raised his eyebrows,

"That's all," Manon said, dismissing him. He retreated quickly. "Are you all right?" Marjorie asked.

I nodded.

"Why do you say this has gone on?" I asked in a small voice.

"We were hoping for your sake that it wasn't going on We had our suspicions, and it did take some time to verify certain facts. The first is the most obnoxious of all, we have agreed, right. girls?"

Heads bobbed in unison.

"What is the first so-called fact?" I asked.

The air around me seemed to grow hotter and hotter with every passing second, making it more and more difficult to breathe.

"He had the audacity, the disgusting audacity, to see her on your honeymoon. They met in Nice while you were staying in that chateau in Eze."

Manon said.

"How did he get away from you for so long on your honeymoon?" Sharon asked. "We were all wondering about that."

I sat in disbelief, recalling his sudden, very important business meeting.

"How do you know these things are true?" I asked. My throat was so tight. I strained to speak.

"Marjorie's parents have some friends who are close friends of Mai Stone's in-laws. Some of this came out in ordinary conversation, and then Marjorie began to pursue it for us."

"I followed up with my sources, one of whom is his secretary, Terri Wilson."

"Terri?"

"I know." Manon said. smiling. You thought she would cut off her tongue before talking about Thatcher's private affairs. Well, she doesn't talk about any business affairs. but I think his behavior finally got to her and she couldn't help talking to someone about it."

"We went to college together." Marjorie said.

"She's not any sort of busybody, so don't go telling anyone she is," she warned, those eyes of hers turning into tiny hot coals.

To continue," Manon said after sipping some coffee. "we have learned that Mai Stone has been making her raids frequently ever since."

I started to shake my head.

"We anticipated your skepticism, of course.

None of us, none of the women we've helped, wants to believe that the man she loves and who professes to love her above all other women would betray her, but they do," she said with a glint of cold, steely anger in her eyes.

"Oh, yes, they do," Marjorie seconded.

"Anyway," Manon continued, reaching down to take a folder from her Gucci bag, "we have from time to time employed a private detective. Everything is done discreetly, of course, and he has proven to be an efficient and effective source of information for us.

"Once we learned of Thatcher's little betrayals, we hired a detective at our own expense, from our club dues, so to speak, to gather the information you would need. It's all here." she said, holding out the folder to me, "dates, times. places. There are even some pictures,"

I stared at the folder she proffered.

"It's yours," she emphasized. "A gift from us."

"A gift." I said softly. "Some gift."

"We understand how you feel. We've all felt the same way at different times, but we've all been grateful for the support we lend to each other as well.

Willow. That's why we invited you to join our group,‖

Manon said. "You might as well take it and look at it."

she added, pushing the folder at me.

I still hesitated.

"You will need this for other reasons, Willow. I don't know what you will decide to do about it, but if you intend to get a divorce, you had better have this, knowing that you are moving to divorce an attorney, who, we assume, has created a prenuptial agreement."

The look on my face told her she was right on target. She offered the file again.

I took it gingerly. Between the covers of the folder was the death of love, the revelation of lies and broken promises. It was filled with tiny arrows directed at my heart. My fingers trembled. I was terrified by the thought of opening the file and looking at what it held, yet drawn to do it as well.

"Are you all right?" Sharon asked, putting her hand over mine. "No," I said. My eyes stung with hot tears.

"One of us should drive her home," she told Manon, "Of course.‖

I shook my head.

"Willow, we hope you understand why we did this for you and don't resent us for it." Mallon said.

I looked from one to another. Were their

motives so altruistic? Did they do it for the cause of womanhood, as they would have me believe? Or did every betrayal, every little treachery they uncovered, reinforce their own cynical beliefs about loving relationships? Did it help them feel better about their own failures? No one was honest and true: therefore, what happened to them was not unexpected or unusual and they certainly needn't blame themselves.

Maybe that was their true motivation, but I still couldn't blame them for it. Who wants to feel unwanted, unneeded, victimized, and, especially, at fault for it? At least they were doing something to give themselves a sense of self-respect and self-worth.

I thought.

"No,' I said. "I don't resent you for this.'

"It's better that you know all this now, Willow.

You're fortunate, in a sense.'

"Fortunate? How can you say that?"

"This early, your investment in someone isn't as deep and complete as the investment other women have made and lost."

"We're having a child!" I cried.

All of the glue I had called upon to keep my face together crumbled. The tears broke free of the dam my eyelids had tried to put up against them. My lips quivered. My whole body began to shake.

"I understand," Manon said softly. She reached for my hand. but I pulled it back and stood up.

"I have to go home," I said. "Sharon will drive you."

"No. I don't need anyone to drive ine. I have to go home," I muttered and started away, but in the wrong direction, nearly falling over a couple at another table. They looked up with surprise. I shook my head, mumbled an apology, and turned toward the door.

The members of the Club d'Amour all stood.

"Willow!" Liana called. She took a step toward me.

I shook my head and rushed out of the

restaurant. When I reached my car. I fumbled with my keys and dropped them. I got down on my knees and found them. then hurried to insert the key in the door.

The girls were right behind me.

"Willow, don't rush off like this." Manon pleaded. "Take your time. Let someone go with you."

I got into the car and threw the folder on the passenger seat. After I started the engine. I looked out at them, all of them standing together, gaping at me with so much pity it made me feel even sicker. My tires squealed on the parking lot pavement as I backed out, and then I shot onto the highway, nearly cutting off another vehicle. The driver leaned on his horn and accelerated, passing me by with a face of brutal anger.

Taking a deep breath. I slowed the car and tried to swallow a lump that threatened to choke the air out of me. Finally. I was calm enough to breathe comfortably. I drove on, but when I reached the entrance to Jaya del Mar. I did not turn in. I kept driving until I found a place to pull off the road.

After I stopped. I sat there staring out at the water. I could hear him so clearly now. What was it he had said?

"I knew there was a good reason why I married you. You're going to make me a respectable man yet.

Willow."

Respectable?

I started to laugh through my tears. Then I stopped, sucked in my breath, and reached for the dreaded folder. With a shaking hand. I opened it and began to read the documentation. The first few pages delineated the dates, times, and places Thatcher had met secretly with Mai Stone, just as Manon had described. After that were copies of some motel slips, the most recent one being the night he was supposedly meeting those all-important clients in Tallahassee.

Then there were the pictures, some of the two of them sitting in a restaurant, one of them walking and holding hands, her head on his shoulder, and one, the most devastating, of them kissing near a fountain in front of some hotel.

Without much warning, my stomach revolted. I had just enough time to open the door and vomit outside the car. I thought I might lose the baby right there and then, the ache was that ueat in my stomach and chest. When it was over. I sat back with my eyes closed. All I could see were images of Thatcher looking at me lovingly, saying loving things, telling me how much I meant to him. Each vision was like another sting of the whip.

"Daddy!" I cried, but I didn't hear or see him this time. This time I was all alone.

I was more alone than I had ever felt or been before. This time I would have to find the answers all by myself.

17

Guilty

.

Mother had fallen asleep in a chaise on the rear loggia and looked so at peace, her thoughts and dreams full of contentment. I didn't dare wake her.

Linden was somewhere in the house, probably in his studio. I thought. He was one person I didn't want to see me like this. One glance at myself in the hall mirror showed me quickly that anyone could tell I had been devastated by something.

I had no idea how Linden would react to this news. I knew he'd really never liked Thatcher.

Keeping the peace between them had always been a juggling act for me, and what kept Linden in check most effectively was my showing him that it would displease me terribly if he didn't continue to get along.

This was not the time for me to deal with anyone else's crisis. I had enough of my own.

Anger was still at the forefront of my marching emotions. I went directly to our suite and spread the sheets of information and the photographs in the folder over our bed, laying out the evidence in an orderly and chronological fashion like a homicide detective arranging her presentation for the district attorney. He or she would have no doubt as to whether there was enough to present to a grand jury and get an indictment, I thought. Thatcher, of all people, should appreciate that.