Cutler 3 - Twilight's Child (39 page)

Her crying stopped instantly.

"You're not?" she asked, grinding the tears from her eyes. "No. But it was a very naughty thing to do. Why did you do it?" I demanded.

She thought for a moment and then said, "They were playing with dolls, and Gavin wondered why the boy dolls didn't have what he had," she said. "Then Christie asked what that was, so I thought they should both know the difference. It was just educational. Like science class," she explained.

"That's not the way to teach them, Fern, and I asked you once before not to talk about those things with Christie yet. She's too young," I said firmly.

"Okay," she said. "You're really not going to tell?"

"I said I wasn't, but that doesn't mean I'm not very upset. Nothing like this must ever happen again," I emphasized. She nodded.

And then she narrowed her eyes and said, "If you tell Jimmy after saying you won't, I'll hate you forever." My mouth gaped open. The force of her threat made my breath catch in my throat. For a moment I couldn't speak.

"It's not nice to threaten, Fern," I responded, but she didn't look away. She made her eyes blank and refused to speak. My heart pounding, I turned and left the room.

Maybe it was a mistake, but I didn't say anything to Jimmy about the incident. Everyone was enjoying Daddy and Edwina so much, I didn't want to spoil the day and the evening. Our meal was wonderful. Even Philip, who I feared would be snobby and condescending to Daddy, was charming and friendly. I assumed he was doing everything he could to continue to make up for the horrible way he had behaved when Jimmy was away. He kept looking at me to see if I was pleased with him.

Before the evening ended I played the piano and sang. I saw that it brought tears to Daddy's eyes. When I was finished he got up quickly and came to me to draw me into his embrace. He bowed his head into my hair, his breath stirring it as he spoke.

"If only Momma was here to see this," he said. We both cried, and then Betty Ann talked Christie into playing the piano, too. Little Gavin looked absolutely fascinated with her. He sat unmoving, his eyes fixed on her every move. Afterward, when we all applauded, I thought he clapped his little hands harder than any of us.

Betty Ann got the twins to perform a little dance when I played for them. Everyone loved the way the golden twosome hugged—and turned each other and then clapped their hands for themselves. We all laughed.

Only Fern looked unhappy. She sat in a corner, away from everyone, a sour expression on her face unless Jimmy spoke to her or looked at her. Then she would smile widely, lovingly. Toward the end of the evening Daddy tried to talk to her, asking her questions about school, but she was very flippant and acted completely disinterested. Finally he laughed and gave up.

It was time for all the children to go to bed anyway. Betty Ann and Philip left with the twins, promising to meet Daddy and Edwina for breakfast in the dining room in the morning. After they left, Daddy, Edwina, Jimmy and I sat in the living room talking about Fern.

"I think you two did a wonderful thing rescuing her from that terrible life and bringing her here to live with you. She's certainly got a lot of advantages," Daddy said, shaking his head. "She's lucky now, growing up in a place like this."

"It doesn't bother you that she's not going back to live with you right now, Daddy?" Jimmy asked.

"Oh, no, Jimmy. I think she's better off here, now that I see her. She's a big girl already, and—well, to tell you the truth, we're just making ends meet as it is, and we want to do as much as we can for Gavin," Daddy said.

Jimmy nodded, but when he gazed at me I saw the sadness in his eyes. I knew he was wishing Daddy had had these thoughts about him when he was Gavin's age, but that was a different time, almost a different world.

"Okay, Daddy," Jimmy said. "We'll do the best we can for Fern, and we'll keep in close touch with you."

"Oh, I know you two will do just fine by her, just fine," Daddy said. A silence dropped around us as Daddy gazed from Jimmy to me and then back to Jimmy. Jimmy and I glanced at each other. We knew what had to be going through Daddy's mind: He had known us only as his children, and now we were man and wife. He tried his best to hide it.

"Well," he said, "I guess Edwina and I should turn in, We got a big day of traveling tomorrow." He clapped his hands together and stood up. "Thank you for a wonderful dinner."

"You're more than welcome, Daddy," Jimmy said. Then Daddy stared at him, a slight smile on his lips.

"A sight better than the meals I used to provide."

"We made do with what we had, Daddy," Jimmy said.

"We had no choice," Daddy added. "But that's all behind us now. We gotta be happy, gotta try to be happy. Good night, son," he said, shaking Jimmy's hand.

"Good night, Daddy," Jimmy said, tears in his eyes. "Good night, Jimmy," Edwina said, and she kissed him. Daddy stopped in front of me.

"Dawn. Thank you, honey. Thank you for making this old heart sing."

He kissed me and gathered me tightly in his arms again. I could barely speak. Then he turned and walked out quickly with Edwina. A melancholy such as I had never known clamped down over my heart.

Jimmy smiled at me, and I rushed into his arms so I could cry against his shoulder. His arm around me, Jimmy turned me toward the doorway, and we went upstairs to fall asleep securely in each other's arms, as we had done so many nights before.

Daddy and Edwina rose early in the morning to say their good-byes to Fern. I was hoping, as was Daddy, that she would finally relent and plant a kiss on his cheek; however, she would only shake his hand again. Edwina kissed her, but Fern looked uncomfortable in her arms and couldn't wait to squirm free. She did kiss Gavin good-bye. Daddy walked out with the children and me to watch them get into the limousine to go to school.

"Good-bye, Fern," he said. "I'll try to come back soon to see you again. Your mother would have been pleased as punch to see how well you've grown."

She barely glanced back at him before she got into the car. He waved as they pulled away, but Fern was looking out the other side.

"I guess her bad time with those people must've clamped her up tight like a clam," Daddy muttered as the limousine disappeared.

"I guess so, Daddy."

"Well, I guess I'm quite a sight for her, this old gent from down Texas way. Can't blame her for not sucking up to me," he added.

As soon as Edwina completed packing their things we went over to the hotel for breakfast. Betty Ann and Philip were already at our table. We all had a good chat, and then Julius, who had returned from taking the children to school, picked up Daddy and Edwina's things and waited for them in front of the hotel. Jimmy and I escorted them out to the car, where we said our good-byes.

"Thank you so much for your hospitality," Edwina said. "I really enjoyed our little holiday. Maybe someday you can come see us."

"I hope so," I said. We kissed. Daddy shook Jimmy's hand for one last time, and Jimmy hugged Gavin. I hugged him, too, and then I stepped forward to kiss Daddy goodbye.

"One of these days," Daddy said, "I plan on visiting Sally Jean's grave, and when I do, I'm going to blabber like some old fool about you, I'm sure. She always knew you'd be something special, honey," he said.

"Oh, Daddy, I'm not anyone special. Circumstances just put me here," I said.

"Yeah, but you've lived up to your chores and then some, and that takes someone special," he insisted. "Bye, baby." He kissed me on the cheek. "Sorry I made such a mess of things," he said, and he began to get into the limousine.

"Daddy."

He turned.

"I love you," I said. He smiled, and for a moment I saw him young and strong again, that charming smile on his face. I remembered him as he was to me when I was a very little girl—the strongest, handsomest man in the world.

Then he got into the limousine, and they were off. Jimmy and I remained on the steps watching them disappear down the street. When I looked at Jimmy I saw the tears in his eyes. The cool autumn breeze lifted the strands of hair from his forehead. It seemed to be growing colder and grayer with every passing moment.

"I've got to get back to work," he muttered, and he hurried off.

Jimmy was right—only work could keep us from thinking of the sorrow we had left behind. I went to my office and dived into book work, not thinking about anything else until the phone rang. The voice on the other end took me by surprise—it was Leslie Osborne.

"Clayton would be furious if he knew I had called you," she began, "but I couldn't help myself. How is she doing?"

"She's enjoying life at the hotel," I said, "and I think she's adjusting well to her new school, although I haven't seen any of her grades yet, nor spoken with any of her teachers."

"That's good," Leslie said, her voice growing smaller.

"She was having a lot of trouble at the Marion Lewis School recently. I never told Clayton all of it."

"I know. Her records were forwarded. The principal believes she was acting out to get help," I told her.

"I'm sorry," she responded quickly, "but I can't believe any of what she told you about Clayton. I wish you would believe me, too. He's not that sort."

"Mrs. Osborne, I must tell you that there are problems with Fern. She does have emotional difficulties. Something happened to her; something went wrong," I insisted.

"She was a problem child right from the start. We even had trouble with her when she was in first grade. I don't know what to say," Leslie Osborne replied.

"Well, I hope she will change for the better," I said.

"It was nothing we did," Leslie maintained. "We tried to give her everything she could want."

"Maybe that was part of it, Mrs. Osborne. She does show signs of being spoiled. Giving a girl that young such a big allowance, for example . . ."

"Allowance? She never had a regular allowance. Clayton was against that. She was given money whenever she needed it for specific things, but he didn't believe in her getting a weekly amount to squander on silly things."

"No allowance? Well, somehow she managed to save hundreds of dollars," I told her. "I saw it myself, in her pocketbook."

There was a tiny cry from her end.

"What is it?" I asked.

"It's my money," she said. "She was taking it behind my back, I'm afraid. I couldn't imagine why I didn't have as much as I was supposed to in my pocketbook.

"I must tell you," she continued, "that she once took money from a friend who had slept overnight. I never told Clayton about that time because he gets so worked up over those things, but I should have realized. I don't know why she steals; she never lacked anything. She's not still doing that sort of thing, is she?" she asked quickly.

"No," I lied.

"Good. Then maybe she will change for the better. Just do me one favor," she said.

"Of course. What is it?"

"When you can, when the moment allows, please tell her I still love her very much. Will you?" she begged.

"Yes," I said.

"I'll try to call you again real soon," she said, and then she said good-bye.

Later in the day I found Jimmy on his way down to the basement. I stopped him and told him about my telephone conversation with Leslie Osborne. His eyes narrowed, and he shook his head.

"It's just like the school principal said," he remarked when I told him of her stealing. "She was trying to reach out, to get someone to notice her and the terrible thing that was happening to her."

"But Jimmy, it's not happening to her here. Why should she still steal?"

"If
she did," he emphasized.
"If
she did. I still think that money's been misplaced. Anyway, even if she did, it's just a bad habit now," he added. "She's going to grow out of it as she becomes more and more secure about us and herself. You'll see.

"Besides," he said, growing angry, "I wouldn't believe anything that woman said. Those two . . . How could she not know what her husband was doing? Next time she calls, don't speak to her," he commanded. "She was either blind or too selfish to see," he added, and he marched away.

Oh, Jimmy, I thought fearfully as I watched him turn the corner in the hallway, it's you who have become blind now.

And how will I ever get you to see?

17

MOTHER MADE GOOD ON HER PROMISE AND HELD A DINNER IN Fern's honor. As usual, it was more of a banquet. Why she felt it was necessary to impress a ten-and-a-half-year-old girl, I'll never know, but there we were, seated at the long table: Mother in one of her elegant gowns, Bronson dressed impeccably as usual in a burgundy sports jacket and matching cravat, and servants flying all around us, pouring water and wine, mixing our salads, hovering nearby to lunge if one of us should so much as lean toward the butter dish. The one thing that Mother did to please me was not invite any other guests. There were only members of the family present: Jimmy and me and Christie, Philip, Betty Ann and the twins, and Fern, of course, who Mother insisted be permitted to sit at the head of the table.

"She is, after all, the guest of honor," Mother announced. "And quite a pretty one, if I might say so."

Fern looked as pleased as could be at the comment. Jimmy had asked me to take her to one of the finest department stores in Virginia Beach to buy her a new dress for the occasion. She had chosen an expensive blue velvet with a white lace collar and cuffs. The dress had a sash at the waist with a bow on the hip, too. Actually, it was more of a dress for a girl well into her teens, but with a few adjustments Fern could wear it well. She also talked me into buying her a padded bra, claiming all her new girlfriends at school were wearing them. I gathered that she was hanging around with older children, just as she had when she attended the Marion Lewis School in New York, but I didn't make an issue over it.

Naturally, I had to buy her shoes to match the dress, and when we walked past a jewelry store she eyed a gold-plated necklace and matching teardrop earrings so covetously, I just had to get the set for her. After she hugged me and thanked me profusely, I began to regret what I was doing.

Was I no better than Clayton and Leslie Osborne, trying to buy her affection and love?

I gave her permission to go to our hair salon in the hotel, and our top stylist, Elaine Diana, washed and styled Fern's hair in a much more mature look. Elaine, unbeknownst to me, made up Fern's face for her as well. When Fern emerged from her room, dressed in her new clothing, bedecked in her new jewelry, her hair redone, her cheeks brushed with rouge, her eyelids painted and her lips covered in a bright pink shade, she looked years older than she was. Jimmy stood gaping in astonishment.

"Is this my baby sister?" he cried, and then he drew her into his arms and hugged her. Her dark eyes brightened and shone like onyx. She flashed me one of her self-satisfied looks, and what I saw in her dark eyes startled me. It was as if she had been competing with me for Jimmy's romantic love and had won. She kissed him on the cheek.

"Thank you, Jimmy," she said.

"Don't thank me, honey. Thank Dawn. She's the one who bought you all this," he replied. Fern turned to hug me as well. As she did so, Jimmy beamed and nodded. I knew he thought he was right: Lavishing all this affection and raining down all this love on her was making her a better person.

She couldn't have been more polite or more delightful at Mother's. The Osbornes had taught her well when it came to dining etiquette. She didn't have to be told which fork and spoon to use, and she dazzled Bronson by referring to him as sir. When either he or Mother asked her a question she replied softly, with measured phrases, describing places she had visited, things she had seen, art and theater she had experienced. She sounded as sophisticated and experienced as a girl twice her age. I saw how impressed they were with her and how Jimmy radiated pride.

"What a delightful young lady she is," Mother told me at the end of the evening. "Obviously she's had good training."

I saw immediately that Jimmy didn't appreciate any praise being given to the Osbornes. His face darkened with displeasure.

"She's not a racehorse, Mother," I replied before he could voice his own objections. "She's a little girl. True, she was brought up in a well-to-do home, but believe me, she didn't have a happy life."

"Oh, I know, I know. I'm just delighted to see a child behave nowadays," she said, swinging her eyes from me to Jimmy. She sighed deeply. "Which reminds me," she added, placing her right palm over her heart as if she were close to a faint, "I have news concerning Clara Sue.

"She's living with that truck driver, Skipper, outside of Raleigh, North Carolina. We found out when she phoned to get Bronson to send her some money. She sits in his truck and travels around the country with him. Can you imagine? How she finds these people, I'll never know.

"Oh, what did I do, what did I do," she moaned, "to have that child become such a burden?"

"It's not what you did, Mother," I said, unable to keep the caustic tone out of my voice, "it's what you didn't do."

"Please, Dawn, don't start one of your famous lectures about Clara Sue—not tonight, after we've had such a special time celebrating the return of Jimmy's long-lost sister," she said, spinning around quickly to shine her charm on him.

He thanked her, and then we thanked Bronson and said our good nights. Mother complained that we were leaving too early, but I explained it was a school night. I felt certain Fern hadn't done all her homework. As it turned out, I was wrong: She hadn't done any of it. And for days and days.

Mr. Youngman phoned late the next morning to give me a summary of Fern's activities since we had enrolled her in the Cutler's Cove School.

"All of her teachers here have the same complaints," he explained. "She is erratic. Sometimes she will do her work and do it well, and then she won't do it at all, and for days at a time. She makes up all sorts of excuses. Blatant, obvious fabrications, I'm afraid.

"She has also been insubordinate on two occasions, one serious enough to have the teacher send her to me. I think our problems might be bigger than I first anticipated, Mrs. Longchamp. Tender loving care isn't all she needs right now; she needs some strict discipline as well."

"Thank you for the call, Mr. Youngman," I said. "I'll speak to my husband about it immediately, and we will speak to Fern."

"Thank you, Mrs. Longchamp," he said.

I went to see Jimmy as soon as I could and told him everything Mr. Youngman had said. His eyes shadowed, grew deep, dark, and he shook his head.

"I think he's right, Jimmy. We have to be firmer with her, too."

"I thought she was doing so well," he said.

"That's what she told us, Jimmy," I pointed out. "It's not the truth."

"All right," he said. "We'll speak with her."

That evening he and I had a meeting with Fern in her room. We laid down new rules.

"You are to go right to the house after school," Jimmy said, "and do your homework before you do anything else. When it's finished, bring it to Dawn to check. If it's done all right, you can do what you want in the hotel.

"But if we hear that you've been insubordinate to your teachers again, you won't be able to come to the hotel at all," he said. "You will be confined to your room. We know you've been through bad times, Fern, but you've got to do your work, and you've got to behave. If we don't make sure you do, we're being very bad guardians, and we have no right to keep you here. Do you understand?"

The whole time she kept her eyes down. She nodded without lifting her face toward us. I looked at Jimmy and saw how painful this was for him, but he knew he had to do it.

"Okay," he said, "let's see if we can start over and start on the right foot."

Fern said nothing, but as we turned to leave she finally lifted her head and looked my way. Her face was filled with rage: Her eyes were narrowed into black slits, her lips thinned and taut so that the bottoms of her clenched teeth gleamed in the light of the nearby lamp. Her hateful gaze made my blood run cold. I knew she was accusing me of turning Jimmy against her, but I was convinced more than ever that we had to get firmer with her before it was too late.

Instead of pouting and sulking, however, Fern turned over a new leaf. During the next few weeks she did just as we asked: concentrated on her homework and schoolwork and behaved well in her classes. I expected her to be belligerent toward me the first time she came to have me check her homework, but she was as sweet as could be. Afterward, instead of running off to be with the older boys and girls at the hotel, she volunteered to help Mrs. Boston with some of the household chores and spent time helping Christie with her schoolwork, too. Her improvement was so dramatic, in fact, that Mr. Youngman phoned me to express his pleasure and gratitude. I couldn't wait to tell Jimmy, and at dinner that night we let Fern know how happy we were with the changes she had made.

"Thank you," she said. "I suppose I was just being a brat."

Jimmy smiled at me, but before we finished dinner Fern turned to him to make a special request.

"I've been asked to go to a dance," she announced. "Can I go? I can wear the dress and jewelry Dawn bought me for the dinner."

"A dance? In grade school?" Jimmy looked at me, but I shook my head. I knew nothing about it.

"Well, it's not in grade school; it's in the junior high school," she said.

"Junior high school? Who asked to take you?" Jimmy inquired.

"Just a boy. Can I go? Can I?" she begged, directing herself entirely toward Jimmy. He sputtered and stammered.

"I don't know . . . I . . . junior high . . ."

"I'm already in the sixth grade. I'm practically in junior high," she moaned.

"How old is the boy who asked you?" I inquired. "What's the difference? It's just a dance," she complained.

"Are any other girls from your class going?" I pursued suspiciously.

"I don't know," she said quickly. "Most of them act like babies."

"How old is this boy, Fern?" I repeated. "Is he in the seventh grade, the eighth grade . . ."

"He's in the eleventh grade," she admitted.

"Eleventh grade? That's not junior high, that's senior high," I said, looking at Jimmy.

"Oh, it's all the same dance," Fern pointed out.

"Why would a boy that old ask you to a dance?" I said. "You're just going on eleven. I don't think a girl your age—"

"I knew you would say no," she cried. "I knew it!"

"Now just a minute, Fern," Jimmy began.

"She hates me; she hated me from the moment I came here," she cried. "She couldn't wait to tell you bad things about me."

"Fern, that's enough!" Jimmy snapped.

She gazed at him and then looked down, real tears streaming down her face. Christie's eyes widened in shock at the scene before her.

"Dawn's right," Jimmy said. "A boy in eleventh grade shouldn't be interested in a girl your age. You're growing up too fast."

Her head snapped up, her eyes glazed with tears and pain. "You two didn't wait to grow up," she charged. Jimmy's face reddened.

"That's not fair, Fern," I said softly. "We lived in different times, under entirely different circumstances."

"I think you owe us an apology," Jimmy said. "I really do."

She looked down, her shoulders sagging.

"I'm sorry," she muttered. "May I go upstairs now?"

"You're not finished with your dinner," Jimmy said.

"I'm not hungry anymore."

"Fern, it's better that you listen to us this time. We're just trying to do the right things for you," I said.

"Okay," she said, wiping her cheeks with the napkin. "I just want to go upstairs and read."

"Go on, then," Jimmy said.

As soon as she left the room Christie turned to me. "What's the matter with Aunt Fern?" she asked.

"She's growing up too fast," I said. Christie looked at me quizzically.

"Am I growing up too fast, Momma?" she asked.

"I hope not, sweetheart. I really hope not," I said. It brought a smile back to Jimmy's face, but he couldn't help turning toward the door and looking after Fern, worry drawing dark shadows around his eyes. I reached across the table and touched his hand. "I'll speak to her, Jimmy," I promised.

Afterward I went upstairs and knocked softly on her door. "Come in," she said. She was curled up on her bed, reading a library book.

"Fern," I began, "I think maybe you and I ought to have a heart-to-heart talk."

"You mean talk about sex?" she said, turning the corners of her mouth down.

"Yes. Apparently you are growing up very fast. Did Leslie ever sit down and discuss it with you?"

She laughed.

"Hardly," she said. Then she leaned toward me and said in a whisper, "I don't think she and Clayton even do anything together anymore. They have separate bedrooms, you know," she said, sitting back.

"That," she added, "is probably why he did what he did to me."

I was astounded. How could a girl this young be so sophisticated when it came to sex? And then I thought, maybe growing up in New York City did it. She was exposed to more and consequently learned faster.

"You seem to know a great deal more than I did when I was your age, Fern," I said. She shrugged. "Where did you learn it all, then, if Leslie didn't talk to you?"