Wicked Forest

  With a thumping heart. I stopped at a drugstore on the way home and bought a pregnancy test. When I arrived at home, I hurried up to our suite and closed the door. I went into the bathroom, followed the easy directions, and, with my heart pounding stared at the stick indicator. In just about three minutes, it told me what I had sensed and feared was true. I was pregnant.

  For a while I simply sat on the toilet looking at the floor. I had always taken the proper precautions, except for the weekend we had gone to the Bahamas, when I had been so carefree and foolish I had neglected to do so. Now, as if fate had been waiting eagerly at the door to get its grimy paws on me. I was faced with a new crisis, just when I didn't need anything else to add to the burden.

  Pregnant!

  How could I have let this happen now? I was just getting started on my education. I had Mother and Linden to care for and protect. Thatcher and I had barely started our marriage. I felt like whipping myself.

  I spun around and looked at myself in the mirror,

  "You, "I spit at my image. "You consider yourself a modern woman, an educated woman. You want to be responsible for the welfare and mental and emotional health of other people, and you, you do this foolish thing. How could you blunder like this?

  "It serves you right. What right do you have even thinking of becoming a psychotherapist?"

  I buried my head in my hands and started to cry. Then I imagined a knock on the door.

  It was Daddy, listening as he had from time to time when I cried as a child.

  What's wrong-, Willow?

  Nothing, Daddy, I replied-- as always_. I wanted my problems coaxed out of me: I didn't want to feel guilty about telling them so quickly and willingly.

  Tell me about nothing, then, he said, and waited patiently.

  I lost control of myself. I'm pregnant, It is not something a responsible person would do, especially someone with my obligations.

  What I have learned is that, although hindsight is the best sight, it does us no good, even does us harm if it encourages us to wallow in the past and seif-pity.. What are the questions I have taught you to ask yourself Willow?

  What is the problem? What are the solutions? What are the pluses and minuses for each, and which one will best serve me and the people who will be affected?

  Is there anything else to think about now,- but that?

  No.

  Then why are you wasting your time moaning and groaning and crying?

  I took a deep breath and flicked the tears from my cheeks.

  The decision that had to be made wasn't only mine to make. I thought, although I did have the most to say about it. I wanted to tell Mother. but I thought it was only right to tell Thatcher first and see his reaction.

  He called and started to make an apology for not being able to come home to dinner, when I interrupted him and said, "You have to come home right now. You don't have to stay for dinner, but I must see you immediately."

  "-What is it this time?" he asked, his voice full of groans.

  It has nothing to do with my brother or my mother. It has to do only with us."

  "Oh?"

  "Come home now. Thatcher."

  He was silent a moment.

  "Okay," he said. I'll swing by on my way to the meeting."

  After he hung up, I washed my face,

  straightened my clothing, fixed my hair, and prepared to have him join me down by the pool. Linden was still in his studio and Mother was in her room resting. I instructed Jennings to tell Thatcher where I would be waiting for him.

  Only a half hour later, he came charging down the walkway toward the pool patio. I was sitting under an umbrella looking out at the water.

  "What?" he demanded as soon as he was before me. "I hope you haven't demanded my presence on the basis of some Palm Beach rumor."

  Funny how it never had occurred to me he would think such a thing, I thought, and for a moment. I was thrown off balance.

  "No. This isn't any rumor."

  "Well, what is it. then. Willow? This sort of dramatics is more characteristic of my side of the family. You're not taking lessons from Bunny, are you?" he said, softening his face into a smile, but still a smile that masked much irritation,

  "I don't mean to be dramatic, Thatcher, only concerned and responsible." I said.

  He nodded.

  "Okay, you have my full attention." He folded his arms across his chest.

  "Just a little while ago, I discovered I was pregnant," I said as dryly as I could,

  His eyes widened, and then he reached back for a chair and sat. "Pregnant? But I thought you were taking precautions and--"

  "Except for our wild behavior in the Bahamas." I said.

  His mouth opened and closed, and then he nodded.

  "Oh. Right." He smiled. "Well, we were a bit wild then, weren't we?"

  "A bit-- a bit too much. I would say now." He shrugged, then smiled.

  "So, what's the problem? We'll have a baby."

  "We'll have a baby? I think it's more likeI'll have the baby. Thatcher, unless there is some new procedure that involves the father, a procedure I have yet to learn about,"

  "You know what I mean. We'll have a child. I don't see any major problem."

  You don't? I'm going to school. I am in the middle of developing a career.

  "So, you'll put it off for a while. Lots of women do that. And it won't have to be all that long either. Willow. We'll find a good nanny, that's all. Maybe you can even bring Amou back from Brazil," he added, beaming at me.

  "I couldn't ask her to do that. She's not a young woman anymore, and she's happy where she is."

  "I'm sure there are many, many good and responsible women we could employ."

  I shook my head and looked away.

  "It's not like we're some poor family dependent on your income to survive. Willow. What good is having money if you don't use it to fix problems?"

  I spun on him.

  "It's not that. I just didn't envision thinking of my pregnancy and my child as problems to be fixed."

  "It's just a manner of speaking," he said quickly. "I don't actually mean a baby is a problem for us. The fact is, he or she won't be." He nodded. "Matter of fact, my parents will be overjoyed, and so will Grace. Have you told her?"

  "Not yet. I thought you should know first. Thatcher."

  Of course. I appreciate that," he said, stared at me for a long moment, then smiled, slapped his hands together, and stood up. "Well, for a long time I had trouble believing I was ever going to be someone's husband, and now I have to convince myself I'm ready to be someone's father." He leaned over. grasping the arms of my chaise, and kissed me. "I knew there was a good reason why I married you. You're going to make me a respectable man yet. Willow,"

  He started away,

  "Is that it?" I called. There were so many more things to discuss, but he either didn't hear me or decided to ignore my question.

  'Don't wait up for me," he called back instead. "I have to see two different clients in two different places. and I might be back quite late."

  I watched him hurry up the steps and into the house.

  Was he right? I wondered. Was it all as simple as he made it out to be?

  Was that what living here, being part of all this, really meant? No problem was too big to solve if you just threw enough money at it.

  I never used to believe that. I thought, but living here could change you.

  Even before you realized it had happened. It was like you never really had a chance to choose.

  And even if I had the chance_. I had to wonder if I would have chosen differently anyway.

  A cloud moved over the sun and cast a long shadow that moved like thick, liquid darkness over the house and grounds. For a moment, even in this warm place. I felt a chill.

  It was just a small touch, like the tip of a finger feathering over the back of my neck, sending shivers down my spine.

  Why it should be there. I had yet to know or understand. But there was no
doubt that it was there.

  16

  Something Unplanned

  .

  I wish I had kept a scrapbook of pictures

  showing the variety of reactions the announcement of my pregnancy brought from the people around me: Mother's was the sincerest and the happiest, I thought. Her face filled with a flush of jay that made her look younger, and a brightness came into her eyes that I had not seen for some time. In fact, it was a brightness she evinced only when she spoke about my father and their time together. Surely, then, she placed my pregnancy and her becoming a grandmother in the same circle of happiness she had reserved for so few wonderful moments in her life. I felt I was truly giving her something she cherished and wanted.

  It was obviously not something we planned, Mother," I told her.

  "What I have learned. Willow, is that most of the good things that happen to you in this life are not planned. A baby will bring sunshine into this home." she said. "Sunshine so bright that even the darkest cloud won't be able to stop it from lighting our hearts."

  She talked about how she would help out. She wanted to be solely responsible. but I insisted as had Thatcher that we hire a nanny.

  Linden's reaction was curious. He didn't appear to be surprised or in any way upset about it. In fact. before Thatcher considered it and even before Mother thought of it. Linden asked almost immediately what I would call the child if it was a girl and what if it was a boy. Of course. I hadn't thought about it yet and told him so. He nodded and said he had some names to suggest, and he would write them all on a piece of paper and give them to me. Then he made an even more astounding suggestion.

  "I should move out of the bedroom I am in and you should turn it into a nursery. It's closest to your suite, and after all, it was Grace's room. Yes." he decided firmly, "I'll move back to my original bedroom. I'll do it next week."

  "You don't have to do that so quickly. Linden. I have at least seven months." I told him.

  "Nevertheless," he insisted, "there is planning to do, things to get. Are you going to find out the baby's sex as soon as you can?"

  "Probably," I said. "I'll be having an ultrasound, and sometimes they can tell after only twelve weeks or so."

  "That's a good idea. Then you will know what colors to use and all that." Linden said.

  I couldn't help but be amused by his devoted interest in my pregnancy and the baby. After a while, it seemed to take over a large part of his attention and time. He went into Thatcher's home office and got on the Internet to download information on prenatal care and even infant care, printing out reams of opinions from various child-care experts. I'd find a different set of documents at my place at the breakfast table morning after morning.

  Thatcher thought it was all very funny and began calling Linden "Our Nanny."

  "What did Our Nanny give you today?" he would inquire when he came home from work. I begged him not to say that in front of Linden.

  "Whatever he does. Thatcher, it has helped keep him from returning to his darker places. Mother's happy about it, too, and some of the information he has found is actually very helpful. I am not exactly an expert on childbirth and infant care vet, It wasn't something I expected to face so soon."

  "Right, right." He was quiet for a moment, then broke into another fit of laughter at some amusing thought.

  "Thatcher." I warned, my eyes wide and furious,

  "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. but I just thought of a new career goal for him. Why don't we encourage him to go to nursing school and specialize in maternity nursing? If any woman is having difficulty giving birth, he could show her one of his gloomy, weird pictures and scare her into birthing instantly."

  "Stop it." I said slapping his arm.

  "Okay, okay," he said, but then chuckled again and ran off.

  Sometimes at dinner, when Linden mentioned something relating to child care. Thatcher would smother a laugh or choke down a smile, but only because I sent fire with my eyes across the table at him. At night, when he put his arms around me and joked about Linden's new interest in motherhood. I couldn't help but smother my own giggle and then felt so guilty about it.

  "Better whisper." Thatcher warned. "He might have his ear to our wall. This house isn't built as solidly as you might think. I remember catching Whitney listening to my parents through the walls once. She denied it, of course, but then I did it on occasion. too. It was always disappointing."

  Thatcher's parents had a typical Palm Beach socialite reaction to the announcement of my pregnancy. I thought. Bunny immediately skipped ahead to plans for a party. She decided that my due date occurring at the heart of the next Palm Beach Season was actually good planning and congratulated Thatcher for it He accepted her accolades and pretended that we had indeed thought it all out and decided to have a child when it would be most advantageous to social activities. It amazed me how easily he could lie to his parents.

  Bunny then went on to give her advice about nursing care and a nanny. She offered to help us choose a name, too, making it seem like that was more important than the child's health.

  "I hope you don't go and choose some soap opera star's name, or choose a month. That's so passe, April. May. June... all that nonsense. Thatcher's son should have a very distinguished-sounding name. Or his daughter, of course."

  "Like Bunny?" I couldn't resist asking.

  "What? Oh, that's just a nickname. When you reach my age here, you find that's just a way of showing affection for you. And," she confessed in a whisper. "it makes you feel younger. But a newborn doesn't need to feel younger, does she? I'll work up a list and send it over."

  Everyone wanted to offer names. I was beginning to think we should run a contest.

  Professor Fuentes had a very mixed reaction. He was happy for me in one sense, but he also seemed disappointed, until I assured him I wasn't going to give up my pursuit of a career, just take a maternity leave from it," I told him. "Thatcher and I have already discussed that."

  -"Good, but don't underestimate the attention and time a child will demand." he warned.

  "Considering what you have told me about your own early life and adolescence, you know that better than I do."

  "I won't," I promised.

  "Just be realistic with it all. Willow. Don't overestimate your energy, and be patient with yourself." he advised.

  "Thanks," I told him. Then I described the madness orbiting our lives now in relation to finding suitable names.

  "If it's a boy, why don't you name him after your father?" he suggested simply.

  "And if it's a girl?"

  He hesitated for a moment. I could see he had a real suggestion, but he was asking himself. "Do I dare?"

  "Go ahead. Professor. Everyone else is putting in his or her two cents, why shouldn't you? Tell me."

  "It came to me right after you informed me of your pregnancy," he admitted. "Hannah."

  "Hannah?" I smiled.

  'I imagine you would like to link her to your mother. Hannah means 'grace' in Hebrew," he said, "I read that the other day."

  "I like that. Thank you."

  "One more bit of advice," he added quickly,

  "Oh?"

  "Don't tell Thatcher the idea came from me. Another man, ego, that sort of thing,- he said, waving his hand.

  "I understand."

  "Of course you do," he said. smiling.

  It made me blush to think what kindred spirits we had become. Was it all due to our shared love of psychology and our fascination with the human mind and behavior?

  Like Pandora. I felt warned not to open this box of mystery, to leave it be. Some things were best left un-said, untouched, like beautiful but poisonous flowers.

  At school, some of my girlfriends treated my announcement as they would a revelation of cancer. Their faces immediately flooded with pity, even disgust. The Butterworth twins couldn't have been more antithetically opposite. Loni thought it was just wonderful and rattled on and on about how she looked forward to a husband and a family. Pet
curled down the corners of her lips and talked about the burden of motherhood and how men don't appreciate their wives and the sacrifices they have to make for a child.

  "And pregnancy itself! I think I'd rather invest in a surrogate mother to carry my egg." she declared.

  "What if she runs off with it?" Loni asked her. wide-eyed.

  "Good riddance to them both, then." Pet said.

  "How can you blame a fetus?" Loni pursued.

  "I don't want to talk about it." she replied. She looked frightened of the whole idea. I assured her I was having a good pregnancy and hadn't even had most of the discomforts women usually exhibit. I didn't want to mention that Linden thought that was a good indication that my baby would be healthy and the birth easier than a first birth often was. They might start calling him Our Nanny too, I feared.

  Whitney's reaction to my pregnancy came to me secondhand. I received a phone call from Manon Florette, She had been inviting me to lunch after lunch with the others, but I had made excuse after excuse.

  "We just heard about your pregnancy," she told me. "Your sister-in-law told Liana's mother in the beauty salon yesterday."

  "Oh? I haven't heard from Whitney yet."

  No mystery about that."

  "Why not?" I asked, my temples starting to ache in anticipation. "She wonders if its her brother's child."

  "What?"

  "I'm just passing on what Liana was told. Whitney wonders, because she says Thatcher would never have a child so early in a marriage. She claims he's too smart for that."

  "Oh, now he's too smart for that, but according to her, he wasn't too smart with his choice of women," I muttered, then immediately regretted it. Like some sort of self-creating beast, one bitter remark fed on another until it spun out of control.

  "Exactly," Manon said. "We thought you should know,"

  "Thank you. Mallon,"

  "You should come to our next luncheon in two weeks, Willow. We are not your enemies. We're your allies here."

  I was silent.

  "I'll call you and remind you," she told me. "Oh, and by the way, congratulations."

  "Thank you." I said.

  The conversation left me feeling a bit depressed. but I scrubbed it out of my mind like some ugly stain and hoped it wouldn't reappear. Of course, the moment I saw Whitney at an event shortly afterward, it all flashed before me in a red sash of fury. Her first remark, which was almost a