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Some answers I had to find for myself. I thought. I was a little girl again with my daddy holding the bike as I learned how to pedal.
Suddenly, he let go.
He stepped away.
And I was on my own to ride. Or to fall,
12
A Routine Organization of Assets
.
I didn't say anything to Linden about his
pictures all day. When he finally awoke, he had such a bad hangover he spent most of the day sleeping in his room with Mother pampering him anyway. I took Thatcher to task again when he rose and came down for breakfast about noon. He apologized profusely and assured me repeatedly that Linden really did have a good time.
"My friends made him feel at ease immediately. Willow. They were all sensitive to him. There were so many guys there, it was impossible for me to keep an eye on him continually, and besides, I thought if we treat him like an invalid, he'll behave like an invalid. Now he is at least aware of what he should and shouldn't do at events like this."
"I doubt that he'll attend another."
"Oh, don't be so sure. You want him to break out of his doldrums, don't you? You know haw unhealthy it is for him to have no one but you and Grace all the time. He has to meet other people, do other things. Otherwise, he might as well be in some clinic." Thatcher insisted,
I didn't dare mention the photographs, but they surely underscored what he was saying. Linden needed to develop other interests, new friends.
"I'm upset more for my mother than for Linden," I told him, and he did look very remorseful then.
"I know. I had no idea Grace would stay up and wait like some parent of a teenager, otherwise I would have taken him to a motel and sobered him up first-- not that I was that sober myself." he admitted with a grin. "This little drum in my head convinces me of that. I'll apologize to her.
"You know what I want to do today?" he said, looking down at the pool. "Just vegetate. We've got to train for our honeymoon, you know." he told me, and kissed me.
Even with his hangover, a light of excitement sprang into his dark-blue eyes, bright like golden candles seen through a window on Christmas Eve. Haw could I stay angry at him long?
"Consider all that we are doing now as merely our training. The main event is vet to come. Willow," he said, reaching for my hand.
"First you made our marriage sound like a movie, and now you're making it sound like a prizefight."
He laughed.
"That's why I tell everyone and everyone tells me you're a knockout." he said. and I laughed too.
We spent the rest of the day as he wished, lying by the pool. sipping cool drinks, listening to music, swimming and enjoying each other's company. With my exams over, my first college term here completed, the wedding now looming before me, this was a welcome interlude of relaxation.
Afterward, he went up to nap and I looked in on Mother, who was much calmer and philosophical about what had happened. Thatcher had gone in to speak with her and apologize once again.
"Maybe Thatcher is right. I'm being
overprotective," she said. "Linden is so much like a little boy to me. I forget how old he really is."
"It's understandable," I told her.
"Yes, but it's time to let go, actually past the time to let go." She looked so tired. I knew she had spent a restless night.
"Go rest, Mother." I said. "I'll see to Linden's supper."
"No, I--"
"Go on. Mother," I insisted. "Get some rest. We've got a very, very busy few days ahead of us. My final fitting. Your preparations, the arrival of guests."
