DeBeers 05 Hidden Leaves

by V. C. Andrews

  For I permitted her to leave you and for that and all that followed. I will forever be ashamed.

  12

  Mommy

  .

  Now that Jackie Lee had what she wanted, she

  wasn't all that easier for your mother to return to Palm Beach. She wanted assurances that Grace would not be too much of a problem for her to handle. Her questions were always weighted with underlying threats.

  "If she's worse because of what happened there, you will hear from Mr. Madison," she told me repeatedly.

  I had to confide in Grace about it. "I'll deal with my mother when I go home," she said. 'Don't worry about her anymore. Claude."

  She remained at the clinic for a while. Every day I would bring her news about you. and I started to bring her pictures as well. To her credit she was thinking more and more about Linden then. too. Your birth had brought back the memories of him, and she began to miss him more. I felt sorry for her, for how she was so torn between going home to her little boy and staying at the clinic to be close to me and to you. There was never any question about where she would end up, not now, not after all we had arranged.

  All of her traumatic experiences matured Grace dramatically.

  The therapist in me saw the changes clearly. Some pleased me, but some saddened me, for she had become someone who now accepted whatever Fate decided, I suppose what pleased me was her strength, her quiet resolution. Sadness and disappointment would not have their way with her anymore. She was what anyone would call a wiser woman.

  What I missed, of course, was the innocent, childlike view of the world, those trusting eyes that would settle on me with a soft smile of contentment around them. Now she looked at me as if from a great distance. Every minute, every hour that passed lengthened the distance we knew would came between us.

  I had reduced her medications while she was pregnant, and now she was practically weaned off them entirely. She spent her time walking and reading, working in the arts and craft center and talking to other patients in a way that made the more nervous and high-strung ones calmer. It got so many looked forward to seeing her, and on a few occasions I viewed her actually doing better than my trained staff and nurses when it came to settling down a patient who was acting out. Half jokingly. I told her she should consider a career in mental health.

  "I've had a career in mental health," she replied. "Enough to last a lifetime. Claude."

  All, yes. I thought, how true,

  We still took our walks occasionally, only now they were slower, both of us more pensive.

  Paragraphs and paragraphs of dialogue between us no longer had to be said. We were that good at reading each other's thoughts, sensing each other's moods.

  At home Alberta continued her aloof attitude toward the baby. There were times I believed she really had forgotten you were there. Willow. I would see this sudden look of surprise when you cried out or when Amou walked through a room holding you or took you out in the carriage. When our dinner and party guests asked about you, she would unabashedly tell them to ask me.

  "The child is Claude's project." she would say, as if I were running some sort of experimental laboratory in the house and doing research on child behavior.

  One night at dinner she did ask me about Grace. It wasn't so much a question as it was a demand.

  "I suppose you should tell me about the infant's mother now. Claude."

  "What do you want to know?"

  "Everything, of course. And don't give me any of that gobbledygook about patient-doctor confidence ar something." she added firmly.

  Alberta. I decided, would have made a wonderful cross-examiner at the Nuremberg Nazi trials.

  "I told you already. She was a young woman who suffered acute depression. I treated her with medication and therapy counseling. In time we worked out her problems and she has become a much stronger person. I have no doubt she will do well in the outside world."

  "Then she's gone?" she asked.

  I thought for a moment and decided it would be better all around if that was what Alberta believed.

  "Yes, she's gone."

  "Do you think there is any possibility that in the foreseeable future she would want her own child?" she asked.

  Of course, it was a question I had lodged in the darker closets of my own mind. Would there be a time when Jackie Lee would agree to such a thing? How long would it be before that occurred? If it was too long, it would be difficult, if not emotionally and psychologically damaging to you. Willow. I had to consider all that.

  "No, Alberta," I said "I don't believe that will ever happen."

  "I don't see why not. Aren't mothers supposed to want their own offspring. Claude? Something more must be wrong with this person if that's the case. Maybe you've missed something, something that can be inherited and now we'll be the ones suffering with it," she pointed out.

  "Most unlikely, Alberta," I insisted.

  "Most unlikely. Alberta,," she mimicked. "The know-it-all, great doctor. Well, I predict otherwise. Claude De Beers, and when my prediction comes tile. I want more than an apology from you. I want you to agree to send her away to some sort of institution for such children."

  "That, Alberta. I will never do," I said. I said it with such conviction that even she was taken aback. "How would it look if I. the head of a nationally reputable mental clinic, couldn't handle his own problems?" I added to soften my sternness.

  It gave her some pause, and she pulled herself back and began to eat again, stopping only to say, "I hope that you're right."

  However, it was a theme Alberta would not put aside. Willow. Up until now, the time I am writing this, you have experienced some of it yourself. I remain hopeful that these tensions in the home will dwindle, thin out, and dissipate, but who can tell?

  What I do know is everything I've learned and all my insight and skill tells me you will be a wonderful young woman soon, bright, personable. and. I must say in all modesty, a very beautiful woman. too. You take after your mother, there.

  I was never going to be the one to tell her it was time for her to go home. She knew that. We skirted that discussion often during the time she spent at the clinic after your birth, Jackie Lee called periodically. She claimed she had begun to prepare Linden for the revelations to come. I. of course, was skeptical of that and even more afraid for the child. This was not something anyone could just drop on a child one day and expect all to be well. I warned Grace about that.

  "Your experiences here might come in handy back in Palm Beach, Grace," I told her. "Linden will have some problems with all this."

  "I know. This is why I think it's time for me to go. Claude. The sooner I can get back there and be with him, the better it will be. I'm sure you agree about that."

  "Yes," I said. "I do. but I don't want to," I added, and she smiled.

  We were walking along the path that led us down to the river and then aver to the clearing where we had made love that wonderful warm afternoon. We sat and listened to the water and watched the birds who always seemed so busy around us.

  "Maybe they're talking about us." I said. "Maybe they're telling other birds who will tell other birds until all the birds back in Palm Beach know the story of us. too."

  "Why, Dr. De Beers, such romantic fantasy, and from a world-renowned psychiatrist, a man of science." she teased,

  "If all we have is our science, our chemicals, and our laws of Nature. Grace, we're truly deprived. Beauty is indefinable and not something we can create in a test tube, nor is love," I said. "Nor is love."

  Her eves glassed over with tears, and she turned away from me and pulled her knees up like she used to when we had first taken these therapeutic walks together. She looked like a little girl again, and just far a few moments, we were both like teenagers, discovering each other, discovering the best in ourselves. I kissed her and held her. We remained that way for a long time. We were actually out there until the sun began to sink behind a row of trees and it grew cooler.

  "We
had better go back," I said.

  For a while we walked holding hands, and then, when the clinic came into view and others could see us. I let her go. I felt as if she was already drifting away from me then, and my heart ached. Willow.

  The next day she called Jackie Lee, and then Jackie Lee phoned me and I told her yes, it was time for Grace to go home. She would be fine now.

  "I hope so." Jackie Lee said.

  That night I took another picture of you. Willow, and then I brought it back to the clinic and gave it to your mother. Some time later she sent me a box, Fortunately, Alberta didn't see it arrive. When I opened the box, I found a doll she had made. the face so clearly modeled after yours. I put it away to save for you. She used the pictures of you well.

  I tried to keep myself occupied the day your mother left the clinic, but it wasn't working. She was waiting for the car to arrive to take her to the airport. Jackie Lee had made the arrangements and wasn't coming to escort her.

  "If she can't come home herself. she is certainly not ready to come home." she declared. In a sense she was right about that. I had no doubt Grace could do it anyway.

  Finally I went to her room. I could see in her face that she had been hoping I wouldn't.

  "I don't want to say goodbye. Claude. If you've come here to do that..."

  "No, not goodbye. I'm here to be sure everything is fine. I do that with any patient I've released," I said.

  "You're not a good liar. Claude De Beers." she said. "Despite all your talents, you can't do that well. At least not when your heart isn't in it."

  I laughed and went to her window to look out. How many hours had she spent here? I thought. gazing at this scene. It wasn't something she would soon forget.

  "Remember when I first came here. I asked you who had been in this room before me?"

  "Yes," I said.

  "What will you say when someone new comes and is assigned to this room?"

  "I'll say a wonderful, beautiful person came through this clinic and taught me far more than I taught her. I'll say she's left me, but she's not gone."

  "You might frighten the new patient saying things like that."

  "I doubt it. I mean that. Grace. You're not going to be gone, not ever."

  She smiled at me with that new, wise look of hers that made me feel more like the patient being humored.

  "Listen to me," I said, seizing her hands in mint. Some day I'm going to come to you. I'll charter a boat and I'll come sailing into that little harbor of yours. I'll come at night, so look for me. It will be a surprise. One day, one night. I'll just be there."

  "Do you want me to believe that. Claude? Do you really want me to have that hope?"

  "Yes," I said.

  I regretted saying that almost immediately after I did. Willow. It was selfish of me. I was asking her to wait for me, not to fall in love with anyone else, to believe in some romantic miracle. I knew always that the more time that passed, the more impossible that would be. There were too many other people to consider, not least of all you.

  "Take care of our little 'Willow," she said. "And when it's the best time for it. Claude, and not a moment sooner, tell her about us. Promise me you will, but promise me you will use your skill and your expertise in deciding when that should be."

  "I promise. Grace," I said.

  I kissed her and held her in my arms for the last time. There was a knock on the door. Edith Hamilton had come to let us know Grace's limousine was here and the driver was waiting for instructions.

  I carried her small suitcase myself and walked her to the limousine. Edith had a beautiful bouquet of red roses for her.

  "To wish you the best of luck, my dear," she said. They hugged.

  Ralston came out to wish her well, and then the whole day staff, all the attendants and nurses who had grown to admire her, came to hug her and kiss her and wish her well. She was crying now, but avoiding my eyes.

  Remember I told you about the day she arrived? How I could recall every detail of it? It was the same the day she left. Willow. It was partly cloudy, but the sun was strong, and when it could peak down between clouds, it sent a shaft of light that chased away shadows and darkness and filled our hearts with promises.

  Grace got into the limousine. I held the door open and told the driver I would close it. He could get into the car and start the engine. He did so and I stood there looking in at her.

  "I'll be on the dock with a lantern swinging from my hand," she said. "to guide you to my waiting arms."

  She turned away and I closed the door. It felt as if it had shut on my heart. Willow. The limousine started away, and I followed it down the driveway a bit and then stood there watching until it disappeared around the turn and was gone.

  I couldn't go right back into the clinic. Instead. I walked and stood for a while under one of our great willow trees. I had to get hold of myself. I had a patient to see in less than an hour, and then we were having a staff conference later. My life wouldn't permit me to take too much time to mourn my tattered heart. I wandered about for a while, thinking.

  Finally I felt strong enough and I walked back. I saw Ralston watching me from the window of his office. The concern in his face helped me get a firmer hold of myself. Later that evening I spent a good half hour at your crib watching you sleep, studying your face. seeing Grace in you.

  Amou came by and stood beside me.

  "This child." she said. "She will be a beautiful young woman like her mother and wise like her father."

  I didn't have to answer. She saw the hope in my eyes and she smiled. I knew then how close you two would become, and I was so grateful for that.

  Along with the doll your mother sent us, there was a letter. I was so silly about it, Willow. I didn't open it for days and days. She had sent me a short letter earlier to assure me she was fine, but this one, because it was with the doll, carried some special meaning for me. Every time I went to open it, my fingers trembled so. I had to stop. Finally, one rainy night after I had been home a while and you were asleep and Alberta had gone to bed. I went to my office and sat staring out the window, listening to the drops tap on the glass.

  I reached into my drawer and took out the letter and then finally I opened it.

  .

  Dearest Claude,

  I struggled .for a while trying to think of something I could give Willow. I thought about writing a long letter you would give her someday. I thought about pictures, but then, I found myself- working on this, and it seemed the best possible gift I could give her Please explain that for me when the time comes.

  I'm doing better and better with Linden. Taking your advice, I've moved slowly, carefully, letting him grow with the truth. He's very artistic, too. I can't believe what he can do at his young age, and he loves working in the sand and creating things.

  My mother is much better. She's settled into her new lifestyle well, and she is enjoying society again. The people who have rented our estate and who live in the big house are so occupied with their social life, they don't seem to notice Linden and me very much. It's actually more beautiful here for me than it ever was. I enjoy my long walks on the beach with Linden. It so quiet at times, I feel as if we are on our own island.I'm getting- stronger and stronger every day, and I no longer have any fears about myself Every once to a while I think about my daddy, but not like I used to. He's not walking on the beach or beckoning me to follow him anywhere, so don't be afraid of that. I think about his smile, his confident stride, his loving kisses and hugs, and all of the dreams he had for me. I have come to where I can cherish memories without them harming me or giving me such great pain, I can't breathe. You helped me get to this point, Claude. You really are a wonderful doctor, and I know; you will help so many, many more people In your -wonderful clinic. I could never feel good pulling you from that. A parade of troubled souls would haunt me.

  Yet, I would be less than honest if I didn't tell you I dream our dream. We can have fantasies without them damaging us. You taught me that
too, Claude; or, perhaps as you say, I taught you.

  Occasionally, just to please myself and to keep you thriving in my heart, I go out to our dock at night. Don't feel bad about that, either. It good for me. Really.

  I go out there, Claude, and I look out at the darkness and the sea and I wave a lit lantern.

  I imagine you coining,.

  I imagine you stepping off that boat and me rushing into your arms.

  And I imagine you've brought a little girl along. She waits patiently, You step aside and she looks at me and without a bit of prompting, she says, Mommy."

  What a wonderful word that is, Claude.

  What a -wonderful gift.

  And you've given it back to me.

  After all this, you've given it back to me. Love forever and ever,

  Grace