Cutler 02 - Secrets of the Morning

Grandmother Cutler sent me?"
    "Been? Oh yes, you've been in school . . . practicing your singing. How wonderful," he said.
    I looked at Jimmy who stood there with his eyes wide, his mouth open in amazement.
    "She never even told him," I muttered. I turned back to Randolph. "You didn't know I was at The Meadows?"
    "The Meadows? No, I didn't know. At least, I think I didn't. But there's so much on my mind these days, I'm not sure about anything. You must forgive me. There's the hotel, of course, and of course, there's Laura Sue. She's taking all this very badly. A stream of doctors have gone up and down the stairs to her, but none have done anything to help her. And now . . . Mother's . . ." He shook his head. "Not a cold, not even a cold all this time."
    "I must see her," I said. "I must see Grandmother Cutler right away."
    "See her? Oh, she's not here, honey. She's in the hospital."
    "I know that. Why aren't you there?" I asked.
    "I . . . I'm very busy," he said. "Very busy. She understands." He laughed. "If anyone understands, she does. But you can go. Yes, go see her and tell her . . . tell her . . ." He looked at the papers on the desk. "The produce she ordered last week . . . it's gone up ten percent. Yes, my calculations say ten percent. What should I do?" He shrugged.
    "Come on, Jimmy," I said. "He's useless."
    "I'll spend time with you later," Randolph cried when we started for the door. "I'm just a little tied up right now."
    "Thank you," I said and we left him mumbling over his papers.
    "Maybe we should go see your mother first," Jimmy suggested.
    "No, she would be worse. I'm sure she's milking this for everything it's worth," I added bluntly.
    We went back to Mrs. Hill in the lobby and got directions to the hospital. Twenty minutes later we were walking down a corridor to the intensive care unit. A nurse met us at the door.
    "I'm Mrs. Cutler's granddaughter," I explained. "I've been out of town and just heard what happened. I need to see her. How is she?"
    "You know she's had a severe stroke," the nurse replied dryly.
    "Yes."
    "It's left her right side completely paralyzed and her speech is slurred. She can hardly make any sounds at all."
    "Please, can I see her?" I begged.
    "You're limited to five minutes, I'm afraid." She looked at Jimmy.
    "This is my fiancé," I said. "She's never met him."
    The nurse nodded and almost smiled. Then she stepped back to indicate what cubicle Grandmother Cutler was in. It was a room with glass walls. We could see her lying there with an I.V. in her arm and the screen of her heart monitor revealing the beating of her heart. I thanked the nurse and we walked to the cubicle.
    Seeing her in the hospital bed with the white sheets pulled up to her neck, Grandmother Cutler looked far less formidable and terrifying. She looked her true size; in fact, she looked shrunken, diminutive, pale and old, a shadow of what she once was. Her steel-blue hair lay stiffly around her waxen face. She had her eyes shut tight. The only other part of her that was visible was her left arm in which the I.V. needle had been placed. Her hand was clenched, the long, crooked fingers twisted over each other. I saw the thin blue veins in her wrist and forearm beneath her parchment-like skin.
    I might have been overcome with pity, even for her, if it weren't for a quick image of my baby wrapped in its blanket and in my arms. Grandmother's Cutler's face and head didn't look much bigger than an infant's face and head right now and that resemblance quickly reminded me of my purpose and need. She knew where my baby had been taken. I had to find out.
    I stepped up to the bed. Jimmy remained in the doorway.
    "Grandmother Cutler," I said sharply. Her eyelids fluttered but didn't open. "Grandmother Cutler, it's me . . . Dawn. Open your eyes," I commanded.
    The eyelids fluttered again. It was as if she were trying to resist opening them, but finally, they did so and she gazed up at me, her face expressionless, but the right corner of her mouth was twitching. Her eyes had not lost their icy glint.
    "Where did you have my baby taken? You must tell me," I said. "Your sister was terrible to me. She tormented and punished me for months and months. I'll bet you knew she'd do that to me. She even tried to cause a miscarriage, but my baby was born healthy and beautiful. Nothing you did was able to prevent that. My Christie is beautiful and you had no right to give her away, to arrange for someone to take her from me. Where is