Cutler 02 - Secrets of the Morning

my heart pounding, "we'll do whatever has to be done to get back my baby."
    I reached out and took hold of Jimmy's hand and then we started toward Grandmother Cutler's office.

 
    18
STARTLING REVELATIONS
     
    I hesitated when we arrived at Grandmother Cutler's office. The simple words, MRS. CUTLER, printed on it seemed to lift off the wood like a neon light before me. My hand froze on the doorknob. After a moment Jimmy put his hand on my shoulder.
    "If your mother doesn't know anything and Randolph doesn't know anything, there isn't any other way," he emphasized. "It's not like we're in there stealing."
    I nodded and turned the knob. When we entered, we didn't immediately notice Randolph sitting on the aqua-green settee. The curtains on the windows were drawn closed and only a small desk lamp was on low, casting illumination over a small area. Grandmother Cutler's lilac scent was as strong as ever. It was as if she had just been in here. For a moment my eyes played tricks on me and I even imagined her seated behind that big desk glaring at me as hatefully as she had the first day I had arrived.
    Jimmy seized my shoulder again and when I turned to him, he nodded toward the settee and I saw Randolph sitting there simply staring ahead. Shadows deep and dark were in his eyes. Our entrance didn't faze him or surprise him. It was almost as if he had expected it.
    "I can't get it into my mind," he said slowly, "that she's gone and won't be back." He shook his head. "Just the day before yesterday we talked about redoing the game room. She wanted new tables and chairs.
    "She knew exactly when she had purchased the ones presently there, you know," he added, lifting his eyes to us. "One thing about my mother, she could remember the day she bought a packet of hairpins." He smiled and shook his head. "What a mind. There's not another businesswoman like her in the state."
    He sighed deeply and turned to look at the desk again.
    "It won't be the same; it will never be the same. I almost feel like giving it all up . . . just going off and waiting to die myself," he said.
    "She wouldn't like that," I said. "She would be very disappointed in you, Randolph."
    He turned back to me and nodded, a smile forming around his lips, but his eyes remaining sad.
    "Yes, you're right, Dawn." He seemed to snap back into reality and the present. "How extraordinary it is that you've arrived just at this time," he said.
    "It's not extraordinary, Randolph," I replied quickly and went to sit beside him. "You must have known about what happened to me in New York and how I was sent to live with Miss Emily at The Meadows. You must have," I insisted.
    "Aunt Emily," he said, nodding. "I'd better get the news out to her right away. Not that I expect her to travel with Charlotte all that distance for the funeral," he added. "It's just she should know that her sister has passed away."
    "Yes, it will break her heart," I said dryly, but he didn't hear my sarcasm.
    "Randolph, you knew I was there, didn't you? You knew what had happened?" I pressed on. He turned to me and looked into my eyes.
    "Yes," he finally admitted. "Mother told me. I'm sorry, Dawn. You spoiled things for yourself when you had an affair and got pregnant."
    "I know, but I had my baby at The Meadows and Grandmother Cutler had someone come to take her as soon as she was born. I've got to get my baby back," I said firmly and seized his wrist. He shook his head, confused.
    "Back?"
    "From whomever Grandmother Cutler gave her to. She had no right to give my baby away. Please help us find out where my baby is. Please," I begged.
    Suddenly, he looked terrified. He looked toward the chair and then back at me. It was as if he thought his mother could return from the dead to chastise him simply for talking to me.
    "I don't know . . ."
    "How would she go about it? Who would she call? What should I do?" I pleaded.
    "There is so much to do now that she's gone, isn't there," he asked. "I suppose, the first thing is to call Mother's attorney, Mr. Updike. He handles all her affairs and has been the family attorney for as long as I can remember. He's not much younger than Mother," Randolph added.
    "Mr. Updike?" I said. I looked at Jimmy, who widened his eyes hopefully.
    "Yes," Randolph said, rising slowly. "I've got to phone him. He's also a close family friend."
    "Will you ask him if he knows anything about my baby?" I cried as he moved around Grandmother Cutler's desk to get to the phone. I could see that he