Free Wicked Forest by V.C. Andrews Page B

cradled the receiver, standing there and looking at it as if he had an afterthought he wanted to see if he could still include.
    When he turned, he jumped. For a moment. I had forgotten I was wearing the mask.
    "Very funny," he said. I removed the mask.
    "Who were you calling so late?" I asked in a much more demanding tone of voice than he obviously expected. It even surprised me. but I felt I had a significant enough investment in him and us to do so.
    For a moment I thought he wasn't going to reply. Then he smirked.
    "Who do you think would be up this late? My mother, of course.
    "Oh. You sounded like you were arguing," I said.
    "She does that to me often, turn me into a tight ball of nerves until I want to smash the phone against the wall,"
    He took a deep breath. "Is it about us?" I asked.
    "No, no. My sister is having a rather elaborate birthday party for my niece tomorrow night. and Mother dear is afraid I won't show up. Every birthday party is bigger than the previous one, both in size and expense. I don't know what they'll do for her sixteenth. Probably rent the White House," he said.
    "People here often compete using their children and what they do for them, and my mother knows I'm not terribly fond of being a part of all that. Anyway, why are you making me talk about it?"
    "I'm not making you. Thatcher. I just asked because you sounded upset."
    "Willow, when I'm with you. I don't remain upset about anything very long," he said, moving toward me. "Even if you wear the mask."
    I laughed, and we kissed.
    "Come on." he said. "We'd better get going.
    Maybe we can manage to spend a whole weekend here together soon," he added, gazing around. "What do you think?"
    "Maybe," I said, without sounding too optimistic. He studied my face for a moment, and nodded.
    "Okay, tell me about Linden," he commanded as we headed out. "What did he do now?"
    I described Linden and what I had discovered he had done to his paintings. Thatcher listened intently, his face grim. We got into his car. He sat there for a moment in silence and didn't start the car.
    "Thatcher?"
    "I don't like the sound of it. Willow. Art has been his whole life. For him to turn his back on that has to be something very serious. I'm not the psychiatrist here, but to me it sounds like another attempted suicide. He's simply destroying himself in another way. Not only are you possibly endangering your mother and yourself, but you're certainly risking Linden's health and welfare by not committing him.
    "I don't like to lecture anyone," he said. "I hate when anyone lectures me, but it seems to me this is just the wrong time for Grace and you to be taking on all the added responsibility of running Jaya del Mar.
    Let my parents extend their lease for another year and get that off your head for now."
    I thought for a moment. Maybe he was right; maybe I was pushing everyone too hard and this was all my fault. Maybe my mother didn't even want to go back into the main house.
    "You don't even have to live on the grounds, if you don't want to," Thatcher continued as he started the engine and pulled away from the beach house. "I can help you find a place more suited to your needs and finances. It could do Grace a lot of good to have a fresh view of things, don't you think?"
    "I don't know, Thatcher."
    "That's just it." he pounced. "You don't know, but you're still taking all this action. It might not be too late for me to fix things for you. Should I?
    I was silent. All my life so far. I had always had someone else— my adoptive mother. Amou, Daddy—decide the bigger things far me. Even my old college boyfriend. Allan Simpson. tried to run my life and was angry when I disagreed with him. Taking advice and being a good listener was one thing, but making up my mind for myself in the end was another.
    "No," I finally said, recalling the brightness in my mother's eyes today when we talked about going to the beauty salon together and getting back into the main house, think we'll be all