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what I proposed to accomplish within the next six months and found myself breaking out in a cold sweat of absolute panic. For a few moments I would become almost catatonic, unable to swallow, my body trembling. I was, after all, no longer responsible only for myself. I had convinced Mother and Linden to take this journey with me, buoying them up with as much of my inflated confidence as I could spare, helping them to see every formidable task as manageable.
First. I had to find the time to prepare all of the preliminary reading for my college classes. Professor Fuentes was right when he called me ambitious after he saw the pile of books I had gathered at the college bookstore. It was going to be difficult enough to get all the required reading completed, much less do anything extra. One of Daddy's characteristics was his ability to always be realistic about himself and others. It frightened me a bit that I had overestimated my capability and underestimated the tasks I had to accomplish in the time allotted. I felt like the pilot of a plane who only after takeoff realizes she isn't as capable of flying and navigating as she first thought. And there were precious passengers aboard!
Reading, taking notes, and organizing myself to start an entirely new college experience. I had little time and no tolerance for frivolous things. and Bunny Eaton seemingly had no end of those when it came to tossing them my way.
At least two or three times a day, our phone would ring and she would be on it with a question or a request for input about such earth-shattering things as the shape of the chairs for the tables at the wedding reception, the design of the chair covers, and the calor of the servants' uniforms. She always insisted that both Mother and I be on the phone if we didn't want to come right up to the house for another planning session. We usually opted for the phone. Mother on the one in the kitchen, me on the one in my bedroom.
She justified this persistence and intensity by continually bemoaning how pressured she was because of what she described as her imminent evacuation from Joya del Mar: Not only was there packing to do, but also decorating for her new home. Despite this claim of heavier burdens. she wanted to stick her nose into everything we did by ourselves and. I found out, actually visited the dress shop to see the gown I had chosen and inquire as to what I had brought home for Mother to try.
"I don't mean to be an interfering mother-in-law before you even get married." she told me. "but I do wish you would consider Rose Le Carre's selections before settling on something. A wedding gown stays with you forever."
"I'm happy with my choice." I said firmly. "Oh. I'm sorry," she said as if someone had died. She paused and then skipped to another topic, never discouraged.
One week she went on and on for days about the wedding favors.
"Wedding favors should be thought of as thankyou gifts to our guests for coming and for supporting our children's commitment to each other," she lectured first. "They'll serve as memories, but they can also be part of our decorations and they can be something of lasting value.
"In fact," she went on. laughing, "many wedding favors outlast the marriages around here."
"What is it you want us to choose now. Bunny?" I asked, quickly losing my patience.
"Do you want bookmarks, key rings, pencils or pens, mag-nets, letter openers? Candles are big. I don't approve of those cheap disposab
le cameras. We have professional photographers and don't want to detract from that. Well?"
"Mother?"
"Pens are practical," she said.
"Yes, but bookmarks can be very elegant," Bunny said.
All right, then. bookmarks." I snapped. I had to get back to my reading for social psych. "You and Thatcher will have to pose for some preliminary photographs so we can get them on the bookmarks. Now, what colors do you prefer? These aren't going to be those cheap paper things. They'll be leather."
"Why don't you choose the color. Bunny?" I said. "You know so much more about it."
"Yes, well. I was thinking we'd keep it in line with our theme, the same shades as the invitations."
"Perfect," I said.
At most recent wedding receptions I've attended, they had golf tees. Perhaps we should have golf tees for the men and bookmarks for the women, or would that be too chauvinistic? Many women play golf here. I do, whenever I get the time."
My stomach was churning. "Mother..."
"You go off and do what you have to do. Willow. Bunny and I can work this out." Mother mercifully volunteered,
"Really?" Bunny said. "I mean, if a bride doesn't give her full attention to these things--"
She trusts my judgment," Mother interceded. I couldn't see her, but I imagined her smiling.
"I do, Thank you." I said, and hung up before Bunny could utter another annoying syllable.
.
Ten days later, I began my first college semester at my new school. I had Professor Fuentes's class at 11 A.M. Tuesdays and Thursdays. There were only fifteen students. All were friendly, one boy in particular, Holden Mitchell, quite a bit more attentive than anyone else. He and I shared a second class, a required English literature course. Tall and darkhaired with features nearly too perfect to be natural. Holden had unusual blue eyes, cobalt blue with a shade of green. Most of the time, this extraordinary feature was hidden because he had a habit of squinting when he spoke directly to someone, as if he were trying to see some scene scorched on his brain. He sat behind me in both classes,
Professor Fuentes gave me a big hello when I first entered his classroom. Then he saw my engagement ring and widened his eyes with amused surprise.
"Is that what I think it is?" he asked while the others streamed in to take their seats.
