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"I appreciate that, Willow," he replied, and I told him everything,
"1 knew your father didn't have a happy marriage." Mr. Bassinger said after listening, "I'm not passing judgment on anyone. None of that changes anything here. Willow. Don't let your aunt convince you otherwise," he advised.
Before we arrived home, he gave me all the details about Miles's funeral and told me he would be by in the morning to pick me up and take me to the funeral parlor. It seemed so odd to arrive at the house and not find Miles waiting for me at the door to greet me and carry in my bags. There were lights on throughout, but there was still a sense of desertion, emptiness, as if the heart of it were gone and it was only a shell now. Mr. Bassinger helped me carry my bags to the door.
"I'll be fine now," I told him. "Don't worry. Thank you for everything."
He smiled and said good night.
I opened the door with my key and entered, "Aunt Agnes?" I called.
A moment later, she appeared at the top of the stairway. "Well," she said, "it's about time you came home."
She was wearing a hair net and a robe. Her face was covered in some rejuvenation cream, which made her look ghoulish under the overhead chandeliers.
"I had people here all day today cleaning." she continued as she descended. "You have no idea what a mess things were, what that deranged man had done."
"What had he done?"
"What had he done? There was food left everywhere, even on trays up in your father's bedroom, as if he had brought it to someone. We're lucky we don't have rats here. Your father's office was a shambles, books and papers strewn about, and the kitchen... the kitchen had dishes piled sky high, bits and pieces of food all over the floor, things rotting on the stove. I practically had to have the house fumigated. The pest control left only a few hours ago. When I arrived here. I found windows open and doors open. Any sort of creature could have come inside, including snakes!
"What do you suppose would have happened if a prospective buyer had been brought here this morning?" she cried, throwing up her arms. "How could you have left him alone here? What were you doing down in Palm Beach? Why is it such a big secret? Why did you leave college?" She fired her questions in shot-gun fashion in the hopes of getting me to answer anything.
"Well? Why are you standing there looking at me as if I am the crazy person?" she demanded when I continued to stare at her in silence.
I realized now that the Eatons knew who I really was and why I had gone to Palm Beach, it wouldn't be long before it was public information. Who knew how fast it would spread? It might even be a front-page story in their precious social newspaper by now. There was no point in my keeping any of it to myself anymore, and I actually felt that it would bring me some relief to open the doors of the vaults of secrets. With almost sadistic pleasure. I smiled at my aunt.
"You and I have to talk. Aunt Agnes. We might as well do it right away and get it all over with. I'm actually happy you decided to put your nose in my business this time."
"I guess you are." she said, still quite swollen with pride in all she had managed since she had arrived. "Maybe now you'll pay more heed to my advice."
"Maybe. I have a lot of advice to get." I said cryptically. "Why don't we go into the sitting room right now and talk?"
She looked at me suspiciously.
"You're not going to tell me you went ahead and married someone in Palm Beach, are you?"
"No. Absolutely not. Nor am I engaged."
"Good," she said. "very well, let's talk. I hope to have things well in control here in a day or so and then return home. We have Margaret Selby's wedding hovering over us, and goodness knows how much I have had to carry on my shoulders. Young people today are far too flighty to do things correctly. When I was her age. I was already married and managing a home and a husband. There wasn't time to be flighty." she continued as she sat in what had been Daddy's chair. She looked so small in it, like a child tying to be an adult. It brought a wide grin to my face.
"What are you laughing about?"
"Nothing," I said. I took off my jacket and sat on the couch,
"Well?" she asked when I let a long pause fall between us. "I would like to get to bed soon. I'm exhausted from all that I had to do and exhausted just thinking about what is left to do."
"As you know." I began. "and know well and never failed to remind me of, either through innuendos or direct remarks. I am an adopted child. My mother was a patient at Daddy's clinic."
"Of course, I know all that. Do you think your father would have kept such information from me? I was his only sibling, his trusted sister. He told me more than he told your mother. What of it?"
"Adoptive mother." I corrected.
"Whatever. What's the point of plowing up the same dirt again and again?"
No point, except it's not the same dirt, as you say, Aunt Agnes. It's new dirt."
"What are you talking about. Willow De Beers?"
