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"Let's wait and see," he said. "Thatcher is a master at getting what he wants. He could sell anyone on anything. even Eskimos on buying ice."

"Please, Linden," I begged. "Give him a chance. He wants to be your friend. He's expressed his concern for you many times."

"Oh, has he? I wonder She'll recall the many times he and his rich Palm Beach friends mocked me and ridiculed me. Ask him about the practical jokes they pulled on me." he urged. "Get him to explain all that while he's telling you how much he's concerned about me."

"Everyone grows up. Linden." Mother said softly. "I'm sure there were things you did as a young boy that you wouldn't want to speak about now."

He turned and squinted at Mother as if he wanted to be absolutely positive the woman who was speaking was indeed his mother.

"I don't understand how you can be happy about any of this." he told her. "especially after the way you've been treated by that family for years!"

"I'm tired, Linden. I'm tired of unhappiness, of anger, of sorrow. I want us to have some happiness now. I want us to look forward more than we look back. Please try to do what Willow asks and give it all a chance. Will you? Please."

He looked from her to me and then back to her.

"When it's over," he predicted. "when you're both sorry, don't apologize to me. Don't even look at me and expect any sympathy." Then he stepped toward me. 'You know what it's like for me to wish you or anyone else good luck? It's like a crippled rabbit wishing another crippled rabbit good hick during the fox hunt. So, good luck. Willow." he said, and left the room.

"He'll come around," Mother told me, now sounding like the optimistic one. "When he sees how happy you are and how good things will be, he'll lose some of that anger."

"I don't know." I said. "Maybe I should wait until he shows more improvement."

"Don't be foolish. I told you before and I meant it. Willow. I don't want us to hold you back. If] ever feel we are dragging you down. I'll ask you to leave us," she threatened.

"That'll never be." I promised, and we hugged again, but not with as much vigor and excitement.

Later. I considered my wardrobe and what I would wear on this most special of all evenings out Thatcher wanted me to wear something eye-catching. I did have a dress I was always afraid to wear because I thought it looked so sexy it didn't leave all that much to the imagination. It was a pleated snakeskin fitted tank dress, short enough to make it impossible to bend over I had worn it only once before when I went out with Allan. He told me he had mixed feelings about it.

"On one hand." he'd said, "I'm proud to have you on my arm, but on the other... when I see the way other men gape lustfully at you. I am not

comfortable."

In the end. I never wore it again when I went out with him, but somehow, looking at myself in the mirror and considering Palm Beach and Thatcher. I thought. Thatcher will have a different feeling about it. He won't have any doubt or hesitation.

I brushed out my hair. All at once. I did a double take, realizing that Mother had come in behind me and was watching me quietly.

"I'm sorry." she said. "I didn't mean to sneak up on you."

"You didn't." I said. "I'm just thinking and dreaming too hard. I'm in a daze."

"Standing here and watching you get ready, I was reminded of watching my mother when I was a young teenage girl. I would stand behind her and she would brush her hair and talk to me in the mirror. It was like we were looking at each other through a magic window. She would speak to me as if] were a full adult, never talking down to me. I suppose that was because we went through so much together, losing my father, moving here, starting new. Struggles like that mature you faster. I sometimes think I didn't have a girlhood.

"I did enjoy those moments we had together," she added, smiling at her reminiscences. "usually right before she went somewhere with Winston, some ball or elegant dinner. She was a very attractive woman, you know."

"I know. I saw some photographs on your dresser."

"I think you look a lot like her."

"I wouldn't mind that," I said.

"She never did any of the things women do today to keep their figures. She could eat the worst things and not get fat, and she had skin like alabaster, so smooth with just a slight peach tint in her cheeks, like you have. She didn't wear very much makeup, either, just a bit of lipstick and a little eye shadow sometimes, but she loved expensive perfumes, and of all the jewelry she had, she favored this.," she said, and opened her hand to show me a platinum hair clip set with diamonds,

"Oh, that is so beautiful," I said.

"It's one of the few pieces Kirby Scott didn't get his greedy fingers around. This was made especially for her, Winston commissioned it. I think it would look perfect in your hair," Mother said, offering it to me.

I started to shake my head.

"I know she would want you to be wearing it. Willow, Something as beautiful as this doesn't belong hidden under socks in the bottom of some dresser. And besides, it's a special enough occasion to justify it being worn. Go on, put it in your hair," Mother urged me.


Tags: V.C. Andrews De Beers Horror