DeBeers 04 Into the Woods

by V. C. Andrews

  The bathing suit Kirby had chosen for me, however, was far more revealing than anything I had bought for myself or Mommy had bought for me. It was practically a thong, the cut was so sharp, and the top, although it wasn't exactly a bikini top, was shaped in such a way as to leave most of my breasts exposed. I started to complain.

  "In the Virgin Islands all the young women who had figures that could be flattered were wearing suits like that. Grace. It's the latest style."

  "Not for me," I said, taking it off.

  "How did I bring up such a prude?" she quipped. "You look beautiful in it. Grace. You should be proud of your figure, not ashamed of it. Believe me, there are thousands of women who wish they looked like you and wish they could wear that suit."

  "Tell them to come and get it," I said. She groaned,. "Please don't tell Kirby you hate it," she said. "He was so excited about buying something for you."

  "Really?" I raised my eyebrows. "He truly bought it?"

  "Yes."

  "With his own money?" I followed.

  She shifted her eyes away guiltily. "We don't think in those terms anymore, Grace. When a man and a woman marry, they should be as one. What's his is mine, and what's mine is his."

  "I don't mind that, but was there anything that was his?" I pursued.

  "Grace, you're being unnecessarily unpleasant." she snapped back at me. "We're both trying our best to please you. Can't you see that? Have I been such a horrible mother to you? Do I deserve this?"

  "I'm not saying anything like that." I told her, but she held the painful look on her face. "I just don't want you to be unhappy."

  "Me?" She laughed, "I couldn't be much happier. I was very depressed, but don't you see how he's brought a new vibrancy into our lives? We'll show these Palm Beach care families that they can't get us dawn."

  "All right, Mommy," I said. I was tired of arguing about all that. She was fixated on it, and that was that.

  "Just try to be a little more... pleasant. That's all I ask." she said softly, and brushed some hair off my face with her hand. Then she kissed me on the forehead.

  "You're so beautiful and intelligent. Grace. It breaks my heart to see you depressed and unhappy and especially insecure about yourself. That's why you threw off that bathing suit, you know. You just don't have a good self-image, and there's no reason for you not to." She held the suit up against her own body and wiggled. "If you have it, flaunt it. I say."

  I couldn't help but laugh.

  She smiled. "Go on, take it, wear it." she said, holding it out toward me. "Would I advise you to do something that wasn't good for you to do? Can't you just try, Grace?"

  She waited. I shook my head. but I took the suit. "Okay, Mommy, I'll try." I promised, and she clapped her hands.

  "That's wonderful. Grace. That's all I hope for," she said, and hugged me.

  Later that evening the three of us did have a nice dinner together. She and Kirby were like a comedy team, reviewing their honeymoon, relating some of the funnier things that they did or that happened to them. Mommy's laugh was free and innocent, and her eyes sparkled with such pleasure she looked as if she had shed years, certainly years of sadness.

  Afterward the three of us walked on the beach. There was a full moon, and the light streaming down from the night sky made the water gleam as if it had been sprayed with glitter. First Kirby had her arm in his, and then he reached out for me, and the three of us were joined with him in the center.

  "My two beautiful women." he declared. "We'll turn this place into a palace of happiness. You hear that. Palm Beach? This will be a palace of joy!" he screamed, and waved his fist in the direction of Worth Avenue,

  Mommy's laughter was lifted by the breeze and carried out to sea. I took a deep breath and secretly prayed that all she expected would happen and once again she would feel she had defeated cruel fate.

  Taking a cue from Kirby's enthusiasm, she launched an entirely new campaign to defeat those in the Palm Beach social world who had dared to snub her. She and Kirby began to stage party after party, each gala affair more extravagant than the previous. If we had a five piece band for one event, we had a twenty-six-piece orchestra for the next. Whoever was the rage in catering at the moment was hired and told to spare no expense in creating dishes that were unique and, especially, "not at anyone else's party."

  Far one party they hired two dozen performers: magicians, singing groups, fortune tellers and psychics, dancers who went through the crowd of guests. staging mini shows. Of course. we had spotlights and hired one party designer after another to create a different theme for each event.

  Soon Joya del Mar did become known as the party capital. The gala events were so lavish people wanted to be invited if for no other reason than just to have said they had experienced one of Jackie and Kirby's extravaganzas. To get themselves invited, some invited Mommy and Kirby to their affairs, but there wasn't the sort of quid pro qua Mommy had anticipated. She was still not on the A-list, and she couldn't throw off the sense that she was still being treated like an outsider, almost freakishly, as a curiosity, a subject for lunch gossip.

  I had no idea how much money Mommy was spending on her own parties until I happened to overhear her having a conversation with her business manger. It was obvious he was warning her about depleting the principal of some of the best

  investments Winston had made.

  "These parties are a different sort of

  investment." she told him. "To my way of thinking what they will bring in return is worth it."

  I tried to talk to her about the money issues, but she always waved me off.

  "Kirby is better at that sort of thing than I am anyway." she said. He thinks our financial advisors are from the old school and are far too conservative, old-fashioned."

  "Why didn't Winston think that?" I asked.

  "Winston was ninety percent retired. honey. Kirby has his ear to the wall and knows what's really happening out there," she assured me.

  I didn't like the sound of that. If he was so good at this, why wasn't he a wealthy man himself? I wondered, but I didn't ask her any more questions. She was floating in such a big, pink bubble I hated to be the one to cause it to burst.

  Bubbles were something else I thought had become too much in her life as well. Never a big drinker. Mommy was suddenly very much into expensive champagnes. She and Kirby went to wine auctions and bid on rare vintages for our wine cooler. They included bottles of champagne that cost as much as two thousand dollars each.

  This will take the smirks off the faces of the Carriage sisters!" she cried, "We'll pop one open right in front of them next party,"

  Almost every night she and Kirby had some affair planned or someplace to go, all of them involving champagne, wine, and a new drink Kirby introduced her to. He called it a New York

  Cosmopolitan, and it involved vodka. Mommy wasn't good with hard liquor. If she drank too much she would get maudlin and then sometimes belligerent. I hated to see her drinking at all. Over time it was beginning to take its toll on her looks. too. She would sleep later and later into the morning and drag herself about, shoving pills dawn her throat to drive away headaches. Whenever I tried to point out this slow but consistent degeneration, she turned on me and moaned about my prudishness or my failure to enjoy my youth.

  "I never had a chance to be young and foolish," she declared, as if that was something everyone should be. "I had to be the perfect naval wife, and then I was given all these new burdens. Just when I thought we were fine, fate comes and takes Winston. What difference does it make to be good? In the end we all find ourselves staring into the same dark space. At least Kirby makes me feel alive and young and beautiful, and everything we're doing is fun. Grace. Fun, do you hear me? Do you?" she cried, her eyes wide with near hysteria.

  "Okay," I said softly, and retreated. There wasn't anything more I could do about it. She would have to come to her own conclusions about

  everything. I thought, and I hoped and prayed she would be
fore it was too late.

  As it turned out. I should have thought more about myself in the midst of all this anyway.

  From the very beginning Kirby led Mommy and me to believe that he had decided to make me a priority, his new cause.

  "If I bring anything to this marriage and family." he said one night at dinner when the three of us were alone. "I hope it will be doing things that make Grace a happier and more confident young woman."

  Mommy looked at him adoringly as he made this pronouncement and then raised his wine glass to toast me. I wanted to say that when he talked about me like that he made me feel like a disabled person. but I could also see how much Mommy believed in him and appreciated what he was saying and trying to do.

  I was always skeptical of Kirby or at least tried to be. If I was to be honest with myself I would have to blame myself as well as him for anything that happened. Maybe I'm too hard on myself, but I can't help believing in the old admonition. "buyer beware." I would just change it to "believer beware."

  After Mommy had returned from their elopement and practically begged me to give Kirby a chance and have more confidence in myself. I did wonder if I wasn't being unfair to him and to her, for that matter. A part of me wanted to believe in him and wanted it so much it drowned out warnings from the other part of me.

  Where Winston had been fatherly, laving, as supportive as a father should be. Kirby was more like an older brother, closer to acting and thinking like someone my age.

  "You don't want to do only the things people your mother's and my age do," I remember him urging that morning after their return. "Wind surfing is for people your age."

  "But you said you were just doing it a great deal an Maui." I reminded him.

  He laughed. "Well. Grace," he said, nodding and looking so coy, "I can see I can't be dishonest with you I've always tried to be younger in spirit, sometimes, I'm afraid, too young."

  Mommy laughed to indicate they shared some intimacy about that. Whatever it was had something to do with their sex life. It nearly made me blush.

  "But," he said, holding up his right forefinger. "a wise old man once told me, youth is a matter of mind over matter. Think young, and you'll be young. Doing things with you will keep me young." he declared, and then looked at Mommy and said. "and that is the way you want me to be, Right?"

  "Absolutely," she said. laughing. "I have too many senior citizens in my life as it is."

  With this emphasis on youth waving like some new flag over our lives. I found it more and more difficult, if not downright impossible, to withdraw to my safe solitude. Reluctantly, with Mommy cheering me on. I finally succumbed and got into the new bathing suit Kirby had chosen for me. Then he and I went down to our private beach where he began to give me lessons in wind surfing. The ocean wasn't as calm as it could be that day I first tried it, but Kirby thought it made for more exciting rides,

  "You've got to take some chances. Grace. It makes everything more exciting and more

  worthwhile."

  He had so much passion in his voice my heart skipped beats.

  Kirby demonstrated all the instructions first while Mommy and I stood and watched him glide and jump with the waves.

  "Look how graceful he is." she declared. "how athletic, those muscles gleaming,"

  Her lack of restraint in revealing her admiration for Kirby's body and, at times, his animal sexuality embarrassed me. While we had never sat and had a frank conversation about sex and men, time and our experiences had carried me from that almost asexual world young girls exist in to a world of sophistication and awareness, especially awareness of your own body and the feelings that flow through it with an almost radioactive frequency, stirring your

  imagination and your most secret fantasies. I don't remember when exactly Mommy stopped looking at me as her young daughter, her child, but sometime after Daddy's death and her dating Winston I found our conversations and the references she made far more revealing about her own sexuality. She had come to accept me as her sexual equal, and truthfully I wasn't as comfortable about that as she assumed. Even years later I still wasn't, and, for some reason, especially when it was in reference to Kirby.

  He came back ashore with the board and guided me out on mine to practice the techniques he had just taught me. Soon I gained confidence. and I was out there doing it. He joined me, and we rode the waves together. Just as he had said, it was exciting, and I had a wonderful time Mommy waved and screamed encouragement. She soon became bored with just watching us and retreated to the pool. On the way back to shore I took a bad spill. Kirby was by my side almost instantly, leaping into the water to be sure I was all right. He held me at the waist so I could catch my breath. It took a moment or two. but I did, and then I also realized that the abbreviated bathing suit top had been pushed off by the water. I was topless and turned away as quickly as I could.

  He said nothing about it. which I appreciated. He let me think he might not have seen what had happened. although I couldn't see how that was possible.

  After that. whenever I did go wind surfing. I wore a one-piece. Eventually I gave in and went sailing with him as well He was good at it and, unlike Winston, wanted us to go faster, take more chances. In fact. everything I did with Kirby was on the edge in some form or fashion, even riding in my convertible. If he drove, he drove like a race car driver, usually getting me to scream caution and then laughing at me. It was difficult to deny that it was exciting and fun to be with him.

  However, there were quieter times, too, like the nights they had nothing special to do and we would all play cards. He was always funny and charming. To my surprise he was even a good pasta cook and made us dinner occasionally. Whenever he did anything, he insisted I help and learn something.

  During this very hectic and active first year and a half Mommy and Kirby took a number of holidays between their parties and events, each time trying to get me to go along. I refused no matter how Mommy pleaded.

  "I'll only feel like a third wheel," I told her, which was a reason she at least understood and appreciated.

  "You've got to get out of the rut," Kirby would say, but he didn't push and try to get me to go to events where I would meet young men. He even advised Mommy to do the same: Back off. "She'll find herself" he would say.

  "Winston used to say that," she would reply softly.

  "Well, he was right," Kirby insisted.

  In the end I began to feel I had misjudged him. He had been right to plead for a fair appraisal. Mommy and he were far too extravagant, but I couldn't blame that entirely on him, and he did always seem cognizant and concerned about my feelings, no matter what they did or what was suggested.

  Maybe, I thought, we were becoming something of a family again after all. Was that too much to hope?

  .

  Almost two years after Mommy and Kirby eloped I began to reconsider my decision about not continuing my college education. I sent away for university brochures and perused them and the different programs each school offered. I was still considering a career in teaching.

  Kirby often came by and looked in whenever I left my door open. He would stop to talk about almost anything, just, it seemed to me, to make conversation. He never stepped into the room without asking or saying. "Hey, how you doing? Can I come in a minute?"

  Twice I had left the door open when I was half dressed and caught sight of him standing there. He moved an quickly without saying a word or knocking on the opened door to pretend he hadn't noticed,

  "Hey, what are you reading now?" he asked this time, "Can I see?"

  "Just some college brochures." I said, holding them up. He came into the room and looked at them.

  "USC? You'd go to college as far away as Los Angeles?"

  "We did a great deal of traveling. Kirby. Going to California isn't so overwhelming to me. For a while we lived in San Diego."

  "Right. I know, but that's clear across the country. We'd miss you." he said. He had a different sort of look in his eye, almost a look
of true sadness.

  "Right."

  "No. I mean it." he insisted, "We've become quite a threesome, and even though I know I'm dominating your time. I enjoy it. I hope you do. too."

  "I do," I said, "otherwise I wouldn't be doing anything with You."

  He smiled. "Why do you have to be so literal, so serious, Grace? I think that's part of your problem."

  "What problem?"

  "Making new friends. socializing. Can I be honest with you?" he asked, sitting beside me on the bed.

  "That's all I ever want you to be with me, Kirby," I countered.

  He smiled and shook his head. "You know, you make me feel we're batting a tennis ball back and forth whenever we talk these days. I suspect you're like that with most of the .guys who try to get to know you You're too defensive."

  I turned away quickly, and he put his hand on my arm. "I don't mean to hurt you. Grace. but I hope we've gotten so we can talk to each other from the heart. Have we?"

  I looked at him and nodded,

  "Well, you give off this air of superiority."

  I started to protest, but he put his hand up. "I watch you whenever we have guests here, especially guests who bring young sons along. You're always condescending, speaking to them like you're sitting atop a mountain." He thought a moment, his eyes darkening. "Can I ask you something very personal?"

  "You can ask. but I don't know if you'll get an answer," I said.

  "See? Okay. You've never been with anyone, have you?"

  I looked back at him sharply. "What do you mean?"

  "You know what I mean. Grace. You're nearly twenty-two, and I suspect you're far more intelligent than I am. so I know you understand the question."

  "What difference does it make whether I've been with someone or not?"

  "A lot of difference. I really don't think you are a snob. Grace. I think you're just frightened."

  "Frightened?" I started to laugh.

  "Of life, of experiencing it fully."

  My smile flew away. "What are you doing, taking courses in psychology?"