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"When someone experiences a life-threatening event, he or she can have some psychological problems afterward, Willow. I've done some malpractice cases. so I had to prepare some research that touched on this. I'm no expert, and I'm just giving you the doctor's standard warning. Complicating matters." he added, gazing down the hallway to be sure my mother wasn't nearby. 'are Linden's personality and psychological problems before he was even injured. They could be inflamed. exaggerated."
He paused and took a breath. "But what's the point of drawing up horror scenarios? Let's just wait and see and deal with it later,"
"My poor mother," I said.
Thatcher put his arm around me and gave me a squeeze.
We returned to our seats to wait for her. About half an hour later, she came back to tell us basically what we already knew: they were preparing Linden for surgery. We moved to another waiting area. and Thatcher went to get us some coffee. The doctors warned us it could be hours.
I sat beside my mother and tried to comfort her.
"I handled this very badly," she moaned. "I should have realized that someday it would all come home. Let this be a lesson to you. Willow. Secrets don't stay buried. They might hibernate like bears, but when their time comes, they'll appear again, and all you have done is delay the inevitable. A pain held off just builds and builds until it comes charging back at you, more furiously than before."
"It's wrong to blame yourself." I told her.
"Whom should I blame, you? For wanting to meet and know your real mother? Or your father, for loving me so? Maybe Linden is right to think fate toys with us sometimes." she said dejectedly. "Poor Linden, lost in a maze now, twirling about. Inside himself, he must be so terrified, so alone."
Tears streamed down her cheeks.
"He'll be fine. You'll see, He'll be fine. We'll work it all out," I assured her.
She smiled at me. "You don't know how much vou looked like your father just then. It threw me back years."
"I'm glad," I said "I often think of him being with me, especially when I need him the most."
She stroked my hair and smiled through her tears.
Thatcher appeared with our coffee, and we settled down for the wait.
Hours later, as predicted. Dr. Thornbera appeared.
"The operation went well," he said.
"Will there be any aftereffects?" my mother asked quickly. The doctor and Thatcher exchanged glances.
"We'll see," Dr. Thoraberg said
noncommittally.
My mother nodded slowly. "Yes," she whispered. "We'll see,"
They let her see Linden, even though he was still under sedation. I stood in the doorway and watched her kiss him and whisper in his ear, and then I put my arm around her shoulders, and we left the hospital.
It was already morning. The sun was pressing back the blanket of darkness, and the stars were beginning their daily retreat. The estate was strangely still, the party decorations, the lights, the tables and chairs and dance floor not yet removed, streamers and deflated balloons drifting in the morning breeze.
"We all need some sleep." Thatcher said. He smiled at me. "I feel like my parents must feel coming home from one of their very late affairs. We'll all get up together. I'm sure."
"I'll just run up and get my things," I told him. "I won't leave her alone now."
He nodded. "I'll be by later. Call me if you need anything, Grace." he told her.
She thanked him, and he and I went up to the main house,
"I'm sorry about my mother, the things she said before," he told
"That's the least of my worries now, Thatcher."
"Right," he said.
