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Little Hannah proved to be as resilient as I had
hoped. My fall on the stairway and my torment and turmoil did not do injury to my pregnancy. Almost to the day her birthing was predicted, she insisted on entering this world. Miguel rushed me to the hospital and she was born at 7 A.M., weighing close to eight pounds.
My divorce settlement with Thatcher provided for his visitation rights, although I had little
expectation of his implementing them very much. In fact, when he was called and told of Hannah's birth, he did not appear at the hospital until the following day, and only on his way to a court hearing. Neither Bunny nor Asher ever made an attempt to see their grandchild, probably still clinging to the nasty rumors Whitney had spread.
Hannah was born with hair a shade or so lighter than mine, closer to my mother's hair, actually, which made me very happy, but which I was sure helped fan the flames of those horrible and disgusting stories the Eatans had spread to justify Thatcher's adulterous behavior.
I was too busy now to care. Despite my plans to return to my studies. however, I put off hiring a nanny. I decided I wanted to be with Hannah until she was at least a year and a half. I did hire a new maid, who was an excellent cook as well. Her name was Mrs. Davis, Mrs. Betty Davis, which was, of course. funny, especially when she introduced herself as the real Betty Davis."
She looked nothing like Bette Davis the actress. My Betty Davis was nearly six feet tall and stout, with rolling-pin forearms and graying strawberry-blond hair. She had freckles peppered over the crests of her puffy cheeks. She told me she was fifty-one, but when Miguel met her, he whispered that he thought she was more like sixty-one. She told me her husband had died more than fifteen years ago and left her with little or nothing. He was a hardworking but mediocre salesman who went from one commission job to another, never, by her own description, very ambitious. They had no children. She had been a librarian in a county library in Virginia before moving to Florida to live with her sister and brother-in-law, but, again according to her, soon felt like a third wheel and went out looking for work as a live-in maid. Her last employer had passed away, but she had excellent recommendations. Most important for me, she was very good with Hannah, so good, in fact, that I had my suspicions about her claim that she never had any children.
Miguel insisted I keep my hand in my studies and enrolled me in a study program that enabled me to pick up some credits after writing a paper. Soon after Hannah's birth, he and I began to see each other on a more romantic and regular basis and then. on Hannah's first birthday, he proposed and I accepted.
My second wedding was far simpler than the first, although Miguel had so many relatives attending that I teased him about it and threatened to hold it at Joya del Mar rather than at church. As it was, we did finally decide to have a reception there. No one but us knew that we had already gone off and gotten married by a justice of the peace during a romantic weekend. There I was, holding Hannah in my arms and pronouncing wedding vows. Needless to say, the judge's wife and the clerk who witnessed were bugeyed. The way they looked at each other gave Miguel and me many laughs afterward.
During the year. I visited Linden periodically in the clinic we had found for him. I didn't think it was as good nor as well run as Daddy's. but I am sure part of that evaluation had to do with my prejudice. How could anyone do anything as well as my father had done it, especially as regarded mental illness?
They had Linden on medication, but toward the end of the first year he was eased off it, and he settled into an existence that seemed peaceful. He was still quite actively involved in his art, which they encouraged. I had suspicions that some of his work was being stolen. It was always well done and interesting, albeit eerie and strange to most people.
He stopped asking about Mother, but never stopped asking about Hannah. Finally, with Miguel's blessing and even at his suggestion, I brought her with me. I doubt that I shall ever forget the way he looked at her. Thatcher, with all his claims of fatherly interest and love, would never approach such a gaze of admiration and joy. Miguel and I discussed it afterward and agreed that, even though Linden's feelings toward Hannah were caught up in his delusions, they were still sincere and authentic.
"Sort of like a psychosomatic pain. The patient really does feel it, even though there is no reason for it, no cause. It's an authentic complaint, sincere," he said.
Visiting Linden, thinking about all these things, whetted my appetite to return to school and pursue my degree, so when I was ready. I ran a search for a proper nanny, even though Mrs. Davis insisted she was capable of handling Hannah.
"A child of this age can be so demanding. Mrs. Davis," I told her, recalling myself and Amou. "You won't have time for any of your other duties here. In fact, my husband and I are now thinking about opening more of the house and we might be bringing in some additional household help."
She accepted my explanation. but I knew in my heart that she would forever be competing with any nanny for Hannah's attention and love. I was girding myself for the expected criticisms and complaints about anyone I hired, and sure enough, Mrs. Davis would be there to greet me with a list whenever I returned from college or any trip Miguel and I made.
I had found someone
who was capable of standing up to her, however, and in time, despite the jealousies, the two of them became good friends. Her name was Donna Castilla, She was from Cuba. someone Miguel's mother had found for us. actually. In many ways she reminded me of Amou, who, with her sister, made another visit to Florida to see Hannah. We had a wonderful visit, and when she left, she told me Senora Castilla would be a wonderful nanny. "Especially with your Mrs. Davis looking over her shoulder. eh. Amou Una?"
It was so wonderful to see her again, and Hannah took right to her the moment she greeted her. All the good memories of my youth came flooding back whenever I saw Amou or heard her voice. She went with me to visit Mother's grave, and then we stayed up late into the night talking. Actually. I let her do most of the talking. She had so many things to tell me about my father. things I never saw or knew, a part of him that I wished I had been able to enjoy back then.
Saying goodbye to her was truly like saying goodbye to Daddy once again.
But I could never say goodbye to Daddy. Even now, with all that had happened. I carried his thoughts and his voice in my heart and my mind.
One night after Hannah had been put to bed and Miguel had gone off to a meeting at the college. I walked down to the dock and stood where my mother had stood so many nights, looking out to sea, hoping for a light on a boat to grow stronger and larger until the boat was there and my father was waving to her. I felt sure she had seen this boat many times.
When do you stop being lonely, Daddy? I asked him.
Are you still lonely?
I have a child and a man who truly loves me, but it doesn't end it. Not forever and ever. There are still nights like this, nights when you can't help but be alone and long for things that are gone forever and ever. You must have been awfully lonely for so many years.
Maybe loneliness in that sense isn't so terrible, Willow. Maybe it's good to remember and long for things that you loved so much and that touched you so deeply. Maybe they will help you provide those things for the people you love now.
Will they?
Will they? he echoed back to me.
I smiled.
