DeBeers 04 Into the Woods

by V. C. Andrews

  on with you, Grace? You're worse than ever, and just

  when I have so many things to do. Well, talk." she

  urged.

  I simply sipped some water, "Apparently, from what the maid told me, you

  ate a good breakfast, and you've been eating good

  lunches and dinners, so there's nothing wrong with

  Your appetite. What do I have to do, put you in some

  mental clinic or something? Because I will if you

  don't snap out of this. I mean it. Grace. You've had

  way more than enough time to get your act together.

  You can't go on like this."

  I drank some more water and handed her the

  glass, which annoyed her.

  "I can't be a wet nurse to a girl in her twenties.

  Do you have any pains any where? I'll take you right

  to the hospital," she, said making it sound more like a

  threat than an offer. "Well?"

  "No," I said.

  She stared at me a moment and shook her head.

  "This is all emotional, silly emotionalism. We all have

  disappointments in life, but we all have to go an.

  Grace. You've got to get hold of yourself and stop

  wallowing about in self-pity. It's unbecoming in a

  young woman. I'm leaving for a few hours. When I

  come back I expect to see you up and about, your hair

  washed and brushed, and you in one of the pretty

  outfits you have. We're going out to dinner tonight as

  soon as Kirby gets home,

  "I've decided to take matters into my own hands

  now. I will bring you everywhere until you meet

  people and start going places yourself I told Kirby the

  same thing, and he finally agrees with me. Do you

  want anything else before I go? I'll tell the maid to

  bring it up to you, but I want you up. Grace. Do you

  hear me? Don't just lie there staring at me as if I'm

  talking in a foreign language."

  "Parlez-vous francais?" I asked, and laughed. "Oh, you're so funny." She turned and started

  out. "I'll be back in two hours or so."

  "Deux heures,"I said.

  "I'm glad you're finally putting your French

  language studies to use, but please put them to

  intelligent use, Grace. Go to school in France or

  something."

  "Mais oui, Mama. Au revoir," "Goodbye to

  you, too." she said, and left.

  I continued to lie there, just letting my thoughts

  wander. I went walking through a maze of memories,

  sometimes seeing and hearing things that occurred

  when I was seven or eight and then things that had

  happened along the way to Joya del Mar.

  It was the distinct sound of a helicopter that

  finally drew me out of bed and to my window. It flew low over the ocean. I knew it was owned by one of the very wealthy men or women who lived here. It wasn't military, but it still turned me into a little girl again, if

  only for a little while.

  Later I showered and dressed and fixed my

  hair. I heard Mommy shouting orders at the servants

  below, and then I heard her coming to my room. I was

  ready. I thought, ready to go wherever she wanted.

  She opened the door, looked at the bed, and turned to

  see me standing by the bathroom door. For a moment

  I truly wondered if she saw me at all. She didn't move.

  She held her gaze, but her face was stiff, her lips

  looking like a slash of red. Finally her mouth opened

  and remained shaped in an 0 for a moment or two. "What in hell..." she began, moving a step

  closer to me. "What are you supposed to be doing?" "Getting ready to go with you." I sang. "Getting ready to go with me? To what, the

  circus? is this supposed to be some sick joke of yours.

  Grace, because it's not in the least funny."

  "I'm sorry." I said. I didn't know why I had to

  say that. but I thought it belonged in the conversation. "You're sorry?" She took a deep breath, looked

  up at the ceiling, and marched at me, seizing me at the

  shoulders and turning me back into the bathroom, where she held me in front of the wall mirror. "Well?"

  she asked.

  I stared at someone. It was a young woman.

  She had a blue blouse on, but she wore her bra over

  the blouse. She was wearing a short red skirt over a

  pair of jeans. One side of her hair was brushed back,

  and the other was tied into a pigtail. The lipstick she

  wore was under her lower lip and over the upper,

  producing a crimson mustache. Small pats of rouge

  over her forehead and cheeks made her face look

  broken out in a rash. There was one long teardrop

  earring dangling from her left ear and none on the

  right.

  "Who's that?" I asked.

  "Really. Who is that? It's certainly not Grace

  Montgomery. Take everything off. wash your face,

  and go to bed." she ordered. She sighed deeply. "You

  win. I'm sending for the doctor. Go on." she insisted. -

  Do as I say, Grace."

  I stood there, puzzled, but she turned and left.

  After she was gone I gazed into the mirror again. I

  brought my hands up to feel the bra and realized I

  wasn't looking at someone else. I was looking at

  myself.

  What was it she wanted me to do? I wondered. Yes, get undressed, wash my face, and go to bed. That's it I followed her orders. Soon she returned with our family physician. Dr. Cook. He had been

  Winston's doctor and had been very fond of him.

  -"Hello there," he said, pulling a chair up beside

  the bed. "What's happening with you?"

  I looked at Mommy, who stood at the foot of

  the bed, her arms crossed under her breasts, her face

  in a scowl.

  "We're going to dinner," I said.

  "Oh, are you?" He held my wrist and took my

  pulse, leaned over and looked at my eyes. "Have you

  been taking any pills. Grace?"

  "Just to sleep." I said. "I have to sleep." "To sleep?" He looked at Mommy. She shook

  her head.

  "I haven't given her anything, and she hasn't

  gone to anyone to get anything. Bob."

  "Grace," he said. "where are these pills?" I lifted my head and then the pillow. He saw the

  bottle and took it out to read it.

  "Your prescription, Jackie Lee. From the date

  on the bottle it looks like a renewal."

  "Grace, when did you do that?" "I don't

  remember."

  Dr. Cook emptied the remaining pills into his

  palm and counted them. He looked at the battle again

  and then at Mommy.

  "Considering what's missing since she got

  these, she's been taking at least three or four a day!" "No wonder she's been moving around here like

  a zombie. I'm so disappointed in you. Grace. How

  could you do such a thing? It's dangerous to do that,

  isn't it. Dr. Cook?"

  "Of course."

  "I had to sleep." I repeated.

  "It's better to attack whatever is preventing you

  from sleeping. Grace. You're a young woman. You

  shouldn't need these on a daily basis." he said, pouring

  the pills back into the bottle and handing it to

  Mommy. "Do you have any pain anywhere, trouble

  with your eyesight, your hearing. anything?" "No."

  "Your mother says you fainted. Do you

&nbs
p; remember that?"

  "No."

  "Well, I'm going to have you see a neurologist."

  he decided, and stood up. He turned to Mommy. "I'll

  arrange for you to take her to see Mark Samuels

  tomorrow. Jackie. Let's get to the bottom of it fast." "Thank you. Bob."

  "For now I would like you to remain in bed.

  Grace. Have a light dinner, and just try to relax" "Okay," I said.

  "You'll be fine," he added with a smile. Then he

  walked out with Mommy, and they spoke in very low

  tones as they continued down the hallway, but I did

  make out the word depression.

  The maid brought my dinner to me later. I ate

  most of it, and then I did try to sleep without the pills.

  I dozed on and off until I heard Mommy came into my

  roam. She was returning from dinner, and I thought

  she looked very nice. I told her so.

  "Thank you. Grace. How are you feeling?" "Tired," I said.

  "You're always tired." she complained. "Even

  without those pills. You don't do anything, and you're

  always tired." She walked to the window and looked

  out with her back to me. "Kirby hasn't come home,

  and he didn't call. He was supposed to take me to

  dinner. I left word for him to meet me at the

  restaurant, but he didn't show up, and he's still not

  home, and he's still not called. It was very

  embarrassing, sitting there in the booth by myself. I

  could see them all looking at me and whispering. "All this happens at once." she moaned. Her

  shoulders slumped, and I felt so bad for her. "I'm sorry, Mommy," I said.

  "There's nothing for you to feel sorry about.

  Grace. Just get well. We're going to see the

  neurologist tomorrow afternoon. I was hoping Kirby

  would be home and be with us."

  She looked at me. "'Try to get some sleep.

  Grace." she said. She touched my cheek, leaned over,

  and kissed me on the forehead. "I'm going to end up

  taking two of those pills myself," she muttered

  disgustedly, and left me.

  I did everything I could to fall asleep again. I

  even tried counting sheep, but they soon were sheep

  with faces of people I had known, and all that did was

  keep me awake. I tossed and turned and finally, just

  before morning, dozed off. Mommy said later that she

  had stopped by to see if I was ready for breakfast but

  had left me alone because I was sleeping so well.

  Finally she woke me.

  "We've at to get some food into you and get

  you dressed to go to the doctor. Grace. Come on." she

  said. "Get up."

  I wiped my eyes with the base of my palms and

  looked at her in confusion. "The doctor?"

  "Oh. Grace. don't tell me you don't remember

  anything that happened yesterday. I had Dr. Cook

  here, We've made arrangements for you to see a

  neurologist today. Get up and get dressed normally.

  Do you want me to send Lourdes up here to help

  you?"

  "No. I'll be all right," I said. I was still

  confused. but I didn't want to keep telling her. I could

  see something else was bothering her. too.

  I ate what I could, and we left for the doctor's

  office in West Palm Beach, He had offices at the

  neurological center. Everyone was very nice to us.

  The doctor first spoke with me for a while, and they

  decided to put Inc through some tests, which included

  eye exams, hearing, a brain scan, even examining my

  feet. I was there most of the day. In the end the doctor

  concluded I had no physical problems. Mommy told

  him she had thought so. The conclusion was I should

  see a therapist because my problems were mental and

  emotional. He suggested I see a Dr. Anderson, and

  Mommy made that appointment the following day. In the meantime Kirby came home, and

  although they didn't argue in front of me I heard them

  bickering in their suite. Later that evening he came to

  my room to see me. I was trying to read again, hoping that it would make me tired enough to get a goad night's rest. I kept thinking I had already read this

  book. but I wasn't positive, so I read on.

  He knocked on the door and peered in. "So," he

  said, slipping in and closing the door softly behind

  him. "you haven't been feeling well. huh?"

  I just looked at him without replying. He

  seemed very nervous, tense, his eves shifting from

  one side of the room to the other and avoiding directly

  gazing at me. I was surprised that he looked unshaven.

  too. His hair wasn't its neat perfect self. and his jacket

  was wrinkled as it would be if he had slept in it. "Your mother's driving me mad," he said. "All

  of a sudden I'm the one who's neglecting her, and it's

  not vice versa. Women. Can't live with them, can't

  live with them." He laughed.

  He stole a quick look at me and walked to my

  vanity table, where he checked himself in the mirror.

  "I had a tough time getting back from Dallas. Plane

  delays. cancellations, slept in an airport waiting for

  the next flight, but does she take any of that into

  consideration? No. All she knows is I missed a dinner

  date. A dinner date. for crissakes! How important

  could that have been?" He turned, his arms up. I was still staring at him. He dropped his arms to his side and looked at me askance. "What is supposed to be wrong with you? She tells me you're fine, but you fainted and did some wild off-the-wall thing with clothes and makeup." He smiled. "I would have thought you'd be more energetic, revived, ready to go out there and whip those college guys until they

  begged for mercy. huh?"

  My silence was making him more nervous. "Look," he said. "I heard you're going to see a

  psychiatrist tomorrow. You know those guys can get

  very nosy, poking their faces into your most intimate

  secrets. You be careful about that. Most of the time

  they're just plain pornographers, getting their kicks

  from their patients' exciting experiences. Understand

  what I'm saying. Grace? If this comes out like that. I

  won't be the only one with any guilt. Your mother has

  seen you with me. She even believes you have a crush

  on me and that's why you don't go out. A man can be

  seduced as easily as a woman. Remember that." he

  said in a threatening tone, "You understand what I'm

  telling you? Don't just sit there giving me the silent

  treatment, Grace. Talk."

  "Te suis fatigue de parter,' I said.

  "Huh? What's that, French?" He tugged on his

  ear like Humphrey Bogart and smiled. "My French is a bit rusty. What did you say? Something about being

  tired?"

  "Mais oui. Bon soir."

  "Bon soir? What are you, dismissing me? Fine.

  Just remember what I told you," he said, and headed

  for the door, where he turned to me again. "I'm with

  two crazy women, if you ask me.' he said, and left. In the days and weeks to follow so much

  changed at Joya del Mar. Kirby's trips became even

  more frequent. Mommy was more and more upset

  about it. but I was grateful. I began my therapy with

  Dr. Anderson and found him to be a very nice man.

  Mommy b
egan to retreat from her social committees

  and events. She knew she was the center of gossip

  again and all because of Kirby's behavior. She was

  doing her best to hide my condition, but with as many

  servants as we had and the tendency for people to

  gossip, that was becoming an increasingly impossible

  task. People like the Carriage sisters were at her,

  pecking and pecking in a search for new information

  they could gobble at their teas and luncheons. Nearly four months later I paused in the

  hallway on my return from seeing Dr. Anderson

  because I heard the distinct sound of Mommy sobbing

  in the den. I hurried to the doorway and looked in at her. She was at her desk, her head lowered to her

  arms.

  "Mommy?" I called.

  Slowly, as if her head weighed a hundred

  pounds, she lifted it and looked at me through

  bloodshot eyes.

  "Oh. Grace," she said. "Grace.'

  "What is it?" I asked her, stepping into the den.

  "Kirby..."

  "He's with another woman?" I asked quickly. "No, worse," she said. "He's seriously depleted

  our fortune with his terrible investments and ventures

  and heavy gambling. Our financial advisor just called

  to give me the very bad news. We can't keep up this

  estate. Grace. The best we can do is rent it out and

  move ourselves into the beach house. Into the beach

  house! Can you imagine that? Can you imagine what

  these people will do to us, say about us? I can't show

  my face anywhere in Palm Beach anymore." "Where is Kirby now?"

  "In hell. I hope," she cried, and took a deep

  breath. 'I don't know where he is exactly. Hiding from

  someone he is indebted to. I'm sure. I've asked my

  lawyer to begin marriage dissolution activity. I've got

  to dissociate myself from him as quickly as I can so I

  can salvage something for us.

  "I'm sorry." she told me, "This is all my fault. I

  never should have begun with him. I should have

  listened to wiser heads instead of my own foolish

  heart. Look what I have done to us."

  "Oh. Mommy, you haven't done anything to us.

  He's done it all."

  "Yes, well, he wouldn't have had the chance if

  it wasn't for me," she said, thumping her chest so hard

  with her fist it made me wince.

  Then she sat straighter, flicked the tears from

  her cheeks, and firmed her lips. "Well. I have my

  work cut out for me. I might as well begin. We've

  been down before, and we've come back. We'll do it