DeBeers 02 Wicked Forest

by V. C. Andrews

  Mother and I looked at each other, both battling the hysterical laughter that wanted to rise like a burp.

  "Engraved?" Mother said instead, and Patricia reached into her briefcase quickly.

  "We've begun the search. Here are some samples I thought would be fitting," Bunny said as Patricia spread them before us like tarot cards on the patio table. "A wedding like this needs a theme, don't you think? So we have coordinated the invitations with the guest book, the photo album and the memory book."

  "This is a rum pink peau de soie accented with sculptured matching roses." Patricia began. "And this is a delicate organza bow wrapped over moire and highlighted by a satin rose. This one is done with a satin ribbon accented by hand-sewn pearls, or you could choose a satin brocade with gold accents on offwhite."

  Mother and I stared down at the display.

  "How did you get all this together so quickly?" I asked Bunny.

  "Oh. really, Willow," she said with a small laugh trailing. "you don't think I did it overnight, As I told you. I've been thinking about Thatcher's wedding for some time. He's been quite serious with a number of debutantes and young women from distinguished families. There have been many times I thought he was on the threshold of marriage vows."

  Even if you had to push him there yourself, I thought, recalling the society pages.

  "In any case. I wasn't going to be caught by surprise. The truth is." she said, directing herself more to Mother than to me now. "I've kept all this updated constantly. It is simply something I've always felt obligated to do. I'm sure you understand. Grace. You were living here when we had so many wonderful occasions and events, parties that made the front pages of the society papers all the time. We've always made it a point to keep up with styles, fashions, et cetera."

  "It all seems the same to me," my mother said in a dreamy, distant tone.

  Bunny's eyebrows hoisted. She glanced at Patricia, who concentrated on keeping the samples straight,

  "Yes, well, you know what I mean." Bunny said. "I do favor the organza bow with the satin rose. What do you like? Remember, we'll carry it through all the printed materials, the invitations, the napkins, favors. everything."

  "It is pretty," Mother said.

  "Exactly. Now you see why I suggested roses for the arch, Willow?" Bunny practically sang. "Theme, theme. theme."

  "Fine," I said. I was beginning to worry a bit about Mother. Her eyes were blinking and she suddenly was looking less energetic, even

  melancholy.

  "Good," Bunny said, nodding to Patricia, who made a notation and put the samples back in her briefcase. "As Willow probably has told you, we've already begun to research the catering. We'll have an elaborate buffet, of course. You can meet with me and Angelo Di Vita tomorrow, if you like, and go through the menu item by item."

  "That's all right," Mother said. "Food is food."

  "Oh. no. Grace. Food is never just food at Joya del Mar. I hope. you don't really believe that. We're going to insist on having--"

  "Whatever you choose is fine with us." I interrupted. "I'm sure you will pick what is

  appropriate."

  "Oh. Well. good." she said. She took a breath. "When do you think you'll have your guest list available?"

  "Tomorrow," I said. I looked at Mother.

  "Yes, tomorrow," she agreed.

  "I'll have a rush put on everything," Bunny said. "With the way people here plan their social calendars, this is going to be difficult."

  "Somehow, I think you'll be up to the task, Bunny," I said. She missed my sarcasm and took it as a compliment.

  "Yes, I will certainly do my best. Now, do you want help in choosing your bridal gown? I can get you an appointment tomorrow at Rose Le Cara, Everyone is using her, here and in Monte Carlo."

  "No," I said. "I think that's something my mother and I will do ourselves."

  "Oh. I see." she said. not hiding her

  disappointment. "Well. do remember this is a very formal affair. You need a fioor-length gown. either short-sleeved or sleeveless. with a long train. A long veil. and long gloves. Your bridesmaids will need floorlength gowns. headpieces, and gloves as well."

  She paused and stared at me a moment.

  You do know that you should have a minimum of four to twelve bridesmaids. don't you?"

  "I don't know who I would have except for maybe my cousin from Charleston," I said. "I was unable to attend her wedding recently, so I'm not sure she will want to attend mine."

  "Of course she will. But one bridesmaid? That's ridiculous, Don't you have any close girlfriends, college friends, anyone from home you want?"

  "No," I said. There were girls with whom I had begun to get close at UNC, but I felt funny sending them such an invitation. and I had last contact with my closer high school girlfriends.

  "Well, we'll provide additional bridesmaids. I have friends with daughters who will simply climb over each other to be here and be in this wedding," she said. "I was thinking of Whitney's children to serve as flower girl and ring bearer. Asher's brother and his wife will come from Texas, of course, and bring their two married children, one of whom has a simply angelic little girl who will make a delightful train bearer. Don't worry about any of that, in fact," she concluded,

  "Okay," I said. "Is that it?"

  "What?" She looked at Patricia, who quickly lowered her eyes. "Of course not. Next, we'll discuss the music. I have someone working on getting us the Bill Renner Orchestra. It's a twenty-six-piece. They are usually booked for a year in advance, but there is a chance we can get them.

  "We'll have to think about elaborate floral arrangements, of course. the favors, and the

  photographer. I think for this wedding we'll need at least two photographers. You'll have so many pictures. You know how weddings are." she said. "They bring people together who rarely get to see each other. It's nice to have pictures of relatives. and there will be a number of VIPs at the wedding. You'll want a visual record of all that.

  "Then there will be the limousines to pick up members of the wedding party and to take you and Thatcher to the airport afterward. I'm sure there is much more. I'm overwhelmed myself. Patricia?"

  The assistant reached down into her briefcase. "Bunny, this sounds like it will cost a fortune." I said.

  "Of course it will. Willow. It's your and Thatcher's wedding. I don't think you'll be doing it that often. Or at least, we hope you won't. right. Grace?" she said, and laughed.

  "No, but we do have a limited income."

  "Yes. I know you do, especially with us leaving and your loss of rental income. However. I simply can't have Thatcher married in an inferior affair. can I? We'll talk about the finances later. I think that's the most boring and droll part anyway, don't you? Asher will handle it."

  "Yes. well..." My mother's voice trailed off as if it couldn't carry the weight of her thoughts.

  "I don't want to sound rushed. Grace, but have you begun to think about her shower?"

  "Shower?" Mother looked at me. "No, I--"

  "Well. that's nothing. I can have it all arranged before we leave the main house and hold it there. I'm sure Whitney will help and perhaps even have it at her magnificent home."

  "Are you sure?" I asked bluntly.

  "Of course. Whitney is always there to help me. I don't know what I would do without my daughter. Someday, I hope you'll feel the same way. Grace."

  "I do already," she said, speaking firmly and sharply for the first time.

  "Yes, well, that's nice." Bunny turned back to me. "Do run your wedding gown choice by me when you think you've decided," she added, and rose. "Patricia, we have to get right on all this."

  "Yes. Mrs. Eaton," she said. "It's nice to have met you," she told Mother and me. "Good hick with everything."

  "Oh, it's not a matter of luck," Bunny insisted, It's a matter of good planning, logistics, timing, negotiating. Usually it's wise to have the proper time for good planning, but who can anticipate the intensity and passion with which two yo
ung people fall in love? We're just a bit pressured, but we shall endure and achieve," she vowed, sounding as dramatic as an overthe-top high school actress. "I'll be in touch. Grace," And she walked off, talking nonstop at her assistant.

  "Sounds more like she's planning a Civil War battle." Mother muttered.

  We both laughed.

  "Let her do it all." she said. "It gives her life some purpose. But I must confess. Willow, I do look forward to our choosing your wedding gown. It's something I never had a chance to do, but now, I'll be doing it through you."

  "Okay, Mother.I'll get right on it. as Bunny would say."

  .

  Later that afternoon. Thatcher phoned, only he didn't ask for me. He asked to speak with Linden, who just happened to have returned from painting on the beach and was in his room.

  "He wants to talk with Linden." Mother said, and called to him. "What?" he cried from his doorway,

  "Thatcher Eaton would like to speak to you on the phone. dear."

  "Thatcher Eaton?" He came into the kitchen, "Why does he want to talk to me?"

  "I don't know. Linden." Mother said. He looked at me.

  "I don't have a clue. Linden. I swear," I said, raising my right hand.

  Skeptical but curious, he went to the phone.

  "Hello," he said, and listened. "Me?" we heard him say after a moment. "I don't know. Why me?" Then he turned to look at me. He nodded as if he were standing in front of Thatcher. "Okay. I'll think about it.... I said I would think about it.... Right. Goodbye.... What? Yeah, she's here. He wants to talk to you now," he said, holding out the receiver.

  I crossed the room and took it. Linden avoided my eyes and hurried out, not pausing to tell Mother anything. She waited.

  "Thatcher?"

  "Hey, how are you doing? I heard Mother met with you guys today."

  "Yes, it was a summit meeting. We planned the Battle of the Bulge."

  He laughed.

  "She'll do a great job. Don't worry about that."

  "I'm not I'm worrying she'll do too great a job. Thatcher, she's planning an event that will probably costs hundreds of thousands of dollars."

  "I would expect so." he said without sounding a bit impressed.

  "Well, we can't afford--"

  "Don't worry about the costs. Just buy your own wedding gown. My parents will take care of everything else. They would insist."

  "But I don't... I don't think we need such a wedding."

  "We'll talk about it later. honey. I've got to get back to the office."

  "What was that all about with Linden?"

  "I asked him to serve as my best man." he replied.

  "You want Linden to serve as your best man?" I repeated for Mother's ears.

  "Yes. I thought that would be nice and might do some good to help bring us all together. Was it all right?"

  "Yes, of course. I'm just surprised."

  "Listen, there was a point there where I was nearly convinced he was my half brother. I want him to think of me that way."

  "That's very kind and considerate of you, Thatcher."

  "Talk him into it, then." he said.

  "I'll try."

  "I've been able to get us the reservations in Eze. France," he said.

  "That's wonderful."'

  "It's exciting." he said. "All of it. Isn't it?"

  "Yes," I said, reluctantly agreeing. Seven hundred or more guests, elaborate flower

  arrangements, a twenty-six-piece orchestra-- how could it not be?

  "I'll call you later." he promised, and hung up. Mother and I just looked at each other.

  "I don't think he'll do it," she finally said. "Do you?" "Maybe," I said, and headed for his room.

  He was sitting on his bed staring down at the floor. I knocked on the open door and he looked up slowly, so slowly it made it seem as if his head were made of stone.

  "You put him up to that, didn't you?" he accused before I could say a word.

  "Absolutely not. Linden. I was just as surprised as you were. I do think it's a very nice thing. and I hope you will do it." I said.

  "He's a schemer, always plotting, conniving," he muttered. I drew closer to him.

  "Can't you give him a chance. Linden?"

  "Give him a chance? You forget. I've lived here all ray life and so has he. I've given him hundreds of chances."

  "Please try." I begged, and sat beside him. My action widened his eyes. "I so want us all to get along, to be a family. I know deep down you want it, too. for Mother as well as for us, don't you?"

  He studied me for a moment, then looked away.

  "Best man. Me, a best man? I suppose I'll have to wear a tuxedo and all."

  "Of course. We're all going to be quite dressed up. Mother's going with me to pick out the wedding gown, and I'll get her to choose a beautiful new dress. I'd be happy to go with you to help you get fitted for a new tuxedo. too," I offered.

  He couldn't help but look interested,

  "When is this world-shattering event, anyway?"

  "The last weekend in June," I said.

  He looked thoughtful,

  "I'll do it if you will let me give you a wedding present," he said. "Let you? Why shouldn't I let you give me something?" I asked.

  "You have to help me create it." he said. It will take up some of your time."

  "You want to paint me again?" I asked, realizing. "You've already done a beautiful picture of me. Linden," I said softly.

  "This one will be different," he insisted, "I was looking at you with different eyes then. Well?"

  "Of course," I said. "Thatcher will be very happy to hear about it."

  "I'm doing it for you, he said.

  But it's a wedding gift, right? That means its for both of us." He thought a moment.

  "I suppose so," he said. "He's never really commented about my work except to say it's really something, whatever that is supposed to mean. I always felt he was laughing at me behind my back."

  "That couldn't be so. Don't forget, he helped get your work into some galleries, Linden. Right? Right?" I pursued.

  "Yes. I suppose."

  "Just give him a chance, a real chance, okay?" He nodded.

  "Thank you. Linden," I said, and kissed him on the cheek. He brought his hand up to touch it as if the kiss still lingered there.

  .

  There were moments when Mother and I both wished we had left the choice of my wedding gown and the bridesmaids' gowns to Bunny Eaton after all. What we had assumed would take only a few hours took all afternoon the following day-- but it wasn't only the time, it was the feeling we had truly fallen into the fishbowl. Thatcher was certainly right about the speed of gossip and social news. I wondered if there was anyone within fifty miles who didn't know by now that I was his fiancee and we were planning our wedding. Just the mention of my name put more hurry into everyone's steps, more excitement and interest in everyone's voices.

  For one thing, we didn't even have to begin to research where we should go to choose a wedding gown. Less than an hour or so after our meeting with Bunny Eaton, our phone began to ring. Three bridal shops called within ten minutes of each other, one of which was the shop Bunny had recommended. Being skeptical of Bunny's motives all the time. I suspected she had her spies there and would somehow overpower Mother's and my opinions with her own. We decided on the third shop, simply because we both liked the name. the Bride's Nest. Even before we stepped up to the door, it was opened for us, suggesting the saleswomen had been told to keep an eagle eye out for our arrival.

  Fawned over and treated as though we were both royalty, we were quickly led to a showroom where three women modeled one wedding gown after another. The manager of the shop. a French woman named Monique Patachou, delivered continuous descriptions of the gowns and commentary including mentions of prominent women who had worn dresses by the various designers. After the fifteenth gown, both Mother and I were exhausted by the choices. We conferred and, amazingly, both centered on a silk chiffon over silk shantun
g gown that had beaded lace covering the bodice and an off-the-shoulder sweetheart neckline. The beaded lace also traced the hems of the skirt and the detachable chapel train. Both of us also preferred it in ivory.

  Then began the fitting. Once I came out in the gown. I could see the pleasure and excitement in Mother's eyes. Her face took on a healthy, happy glow that put the flutters of joy into my own heart.

  "I would recommend you buy your shoes now," Monique suggested. "You can wear them a bit to break them in and wear them at all your fittings. Get something you're used to wearing. too. I see you favor flats." she added, and suggested a satin shoe with soutache, which was a type of narrow braid.

  After that we chose the gloves, settling on opera-length. Nearly four hours after we'd started, we were too exhausted to begin choosing a bridesmaid gown. but Monique addressed Mother and offered some opinions about what she should wear.

  "Mothers are always putting their dress choice off until the last moment. I wouldn't recommend that. You want something that complements your daughter's choice. Bone and off-white remain the most popular colors for the mother of the bride, and I have selections that are anything but matronly. In fact, a pretty halter dress with a jacket might work. You will certainly look young and trendy."

  "Later." Mother pleaded. "Please."

  "We've accomplished what we set out to do today," I explained. "We'll be back soon."

  "Oui, "Monique said. "But remember not to wait too long and be too rushed. You might think you have a great deal of time, but with fittings and all the other decisions to make--"

  "I understand." I said. "Thank you."

  "We'll call you for the first fitting. Maybe then, madame," she told Mother, who eagerly agreed.

  "How exhausting," Mother cried when we were in my car and heading home. "I can't imagine doing all the things Bunny Eaton has taken on."

  "What else does she have to do with her life? Still. I hope I'm not making a big mistake having such an elaborate wedding. I could be more insistent with Thatcher and have a small affair, maybe just the immediate family."

  "No, no Bunny Eaton's right. You'll never forget it."

  "I wonder if a big wedding adds any strength to a marriage," I said. "Does it make your vows seem that much more lasting and serious? Is it like a coronation?"