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"Why are you just standing there like that?" I asked.
"I saw Mother come out of your suite. She was crying, so I asked her why and she told me."
Oh.
"I'm not surprised,- he said, moving into the light. His face was luminous, his smile cold. "When you told him you were pregnant, he wanted you to discover his unfaithfulness so you would send him away."
"I don't know that the baby has all that much to do with it, Linden," I said softly.
"Oh, it does. yes it does." he said. He held his smile. his eyes becoming even more excited and bright.
"Well, what's happened has happened. I don't want to dwell on it," I said.
"Good. We've all got to put the past behind us," he proclaimed. But now that this has happened, it is the right time to show you my latest work. Tomorrow. I will hang it on the wall.'
"So you have finished it. How nice." I said. It took a great effort for me to generate interest in anything at the moment, even to pretend it. but I knew how proud he was of his new work and how important it was to him that I like it.
He went to his studio door, opened it, and stepped back.
"You are the first to see it, of course. Even Mother hasn't been in here yet. I made sure of that."
I nodded, smiled, and walked into the studio. The painting was as big as he had said it would be. He had it up on the west wall of his studio with a light on it. The picture was done in vibrant, almost neon colors, everything as bright as could be. That was startling in and of itself. but what was depicted was so strange, it took my breath away.
It was set on our beach. There was no question the woman walking was I. She was pregnant. but the figure behind her was done in multiples to show movement. and there was also no question that figure was Linden. He'd painted himself moving up and into me. Emerging from the front of me was an infant. and the infant was shown growing until it was clearly a little girl.
I couldn't help but step closer to the picture. In the background. almost unseen, was the figure of a woman who resembled Mother.
"I don't understand this. Linden." I said. "What's happening in the picture?"
"How can you not understand?" he cried.
I turned and saw his face filling with agony.
"I just want to be sure I'm right. Linden," I said softly. "Please don't be upset. It's remarkable," I added. That seemed to calm him.
It took every bit of creative energy out of me to paint this," he told me, approaching the picture and gazing up at it with great adoration.
"There's a birth here," I said.
"Oh, there's everything here. This is all of it, love, life, struggles, victories. This is us." he declared, "See Mother? See her watching?"
"And that's you?"
"Yes, of course it's me. Who else could it be?" But why are you... why are you going into me?"
"Because we're part of each other, always and forever. You know that," he said. 'You have even told me so in so many different ways. Isn't that right?" he asked with a frantic note that threatened to explode into full-blown hysteria if it was denied,
"Yes." I nodded. "Yes."
'I'll show it to Grace now. She's been dying to get in here to see this for some time," he added with a smile,
"I bet," I said.
"Then you like it, right? You really like it?"
"Yes Linden. It's very, very interesting," I said.
"Good. Thatcher wouldn't have liked it." he declared. "He would have wanted it destroyed."
