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I didn't say yes or no. I thought he would certainly have been shocked.
"I'll hang it tomorrow," he said.
"Maybe we should make this extra special. Linden."
"What do you mean?"
"Maybe we should hang it somewhere special."
"Where's that?"
"Put it in your
room,," I said.
He studied my face.
"My room? Why in my room?"
"I think it's so much a part of you and who you are that it belongs with you. I'd like to see it there. I'd like to go there often to see it." I added.
"Oh.-
He thought a moment, then smiled and nodded,
"Yes, you're right. It's too special for the rest of the world to see. They won't appreciate it like we do. anyway." He looked up at the picture again. "I tried to make her more like you. I know what you want to name her. too. I overheard you tell Mother. I like the name. Hannah." he said. "Perfect.
"Everything," he added, turning to me, "is going to be perfect."
I left him standing there, looking up at the picture as if he could not take his eyes away, as if he was looking somewhere deep inside himself at a place so dark no one else should ever be able to see it, but a place I feared I had just seen.
I knew Mother was as disturbed by the picture as I was, but she tried not to show it because she didn't want to upset me any further. Yes, she said, it was strange, offbeat, but most everything Linden had done to date was. When I asked her what she thought he was saying in the work, she just shook her head.
"I always tell him his work is interesting and very good, but most of the time. I don't understand it. Of course. I remember some of the artwork your father's patients at the clinic did.
Your father didn't think of it as art in the true sense. He told me he saw it as a means of bringing troubled or disturbing thoughts up from the dark well in their minds and, by exposing them, beginning to deal with them. There were some very weird things done in that arts-and-crafts room in the clinic." she said, smiling and shaking her head.
"Let's leave it be for now," she concluded. "We have other problems to solve first."
"I'm not worried about them, Mother. I'll do what I have to do."
"I know you she said. "but I wouldn't be your mother if I didn't worry, now, would I?"
She smiled at me and held it until I smiled and agreed. But later, when she didn't know I was watching. I saw the heavy weight of it all, my problems and Linden's, furrow her brows and sag her shoulders. Maybe we shouldn't have ignored Linden's troubled thoughts that had surfaced through his picture, but we did. Somewhere deep inside me, regret had planted a seed. and I knew in my heart it would grow into something bigger and, like an insidious weed, curl around whatever flowers of joy were in our garden, choking them until they were gone.
Thatcher's rage at being rebuked took form rather quickly over the next few days, making me even more grateful for the assistance Manon and the members of the Club d'Amour provided.
My attorney reviewed Thatcher's and my prenuptial agreement and advised me that she would challenge any and all clauses not to my advantage.
He should have had a third party involved, an outside attorney. This is like the beneficiary of a will writing the will and making sure all other
beneficiaries are eliminated. There would be and there are grounds to challenge."
"Yes, my attorney from South Carolina wanted me to do that right after it was drawn up."
"You should have let him. If Thatcher calls you and tries to discuss any of this. which I imagine he will do, just have one response: Call lawyer. Understand? I'm the wall between you and him from now on." she advised.
As she predicted. Thatcher did call. He started to threaten me with the document.
