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"Yes."
"You don't think it might be too hard living on top of each other like that? I mean, with your half brother's special problems?"
"I hardly think it's possible to live on top of one another at Joya del Mar. It's as big as many hotels. From what Bunny has told me, she could go days, even weeks, without seeing Thatcher."
"Frankly speaking, I couldn't imagine living with my mother in the same house."
"That's your mother, not mine," I retorted. She winced, but didn't pick up the hatchet,
"You're still intending to pursue a college education and a career?"
"Of course." She smiled to herself as if I were the one deluding myself now.
"We've already talked about that. Whitney. There's no problem."
"I always think of promises between men and women to be of the same timber as the promises we made to the Indians." she quipped. "Most men, my brother included, speak with forked tongue."
"I don't pretend to be an expert vet on human behavior or relations. but I think it's pretty safe to say that any relationship has to begin with a high degree of trust. Don't you have that with Hans?"
She started to laugh so hard, she had to sit back.
"Hans? Hans Shugar? My husband has brought deception to an art form. He carries it over from business into his personal relationships."
I shook my head. How could a woman speak so critically of her husband and still be married to him? As if she heard my thoughts, she leaned forward again.
"I simply don't permit myself any fantasies. Willow. I'm a realist, a cold realist."
'Are you happy?" I countered.
She blinked rapidly, dug her fork into her salad, ate some, sipped some wine, nodded to someone at another table, and at last replied. "Happiness is too high a goal to set for ourselves. Moments of contentment, satisfaction, pleasure, and absence of pain are about all we can hope to achieve. Anyone who thinks otherwise is..."
"What?"
"Walking a tightrope without a net beneath. It's a hard fall," she declared.
Suddenly. I understood her completely. I thought. Whitney was afraid. Perhaps she had been afraid all her life. When I considered the home in which she had been raised and the experiences she had witnessing her own parent's marriage, it was understandable. but I wasn't going to permit her to put the dark clouds over my days and into my future.
"Do you know what having trust means. Whitney?"
"I have the feeling you're about to tell me." she said.
"It's being willing to take a risk. Yes, it's like walking on a tightrope and maybe it is without a net, but if you put yourself in a cocoon of thick cynicism, you'll never know what it's like to be up there, to be free, to feel the wind in your hair and the love in your heart."
She smiled coldly at me. "You're exactly what I expected," she said. "With all the vulnerability to be a Thatcher Eaton woman, I wish you luck." She raised her glass and downed the remaining champagne. "But let's forget about all this." she added quickly, "and talk about your wedding plans." She reached into her purse. "I have some suggestions for you after speaking with Bunny.'
Now it was my turn to smile to myself.
Thatcher could be marrying the devil, for all she and Bunny cared. It was the affair, the reception, the event that mattered the most.
After all, they would say it themselves: This is Palm Beach.
9
The Club d'Amour
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There were times when I stopped to consider
