Cutler 02 - Secrets of the Morning

how I can get my high school diploma while I'm in the army, and I'll learn a skill I can use when I get out."
    "But Jimmy . . . the army . . ." I paused, my heart racing as I recalled that helpful soldier at the airport, the one who had reminded me of Jimmy. Had that been an omen, a prophecy?
    "It's all right, Dawn. It will be good for me. I want to be on my own and not passed from one foster home to another." Jimmy's voice rang with determination.
    "But Jimmy, when will I see you?" I cried.
    "Right after boot camp, I'll get a leave and come to New York to see you. I promise. There's no one else for me to see anyway, no one else I care about but you, Dawn," he said softly. The image of his sweet face flashed before me, his dark eyes shimmering, crying out for the love we both had thought was forbidden between us. Now that we knew it wasn't, we were like infants learning how to walk, tottering and stumbling along, searching for the right words, the right way to act toward each other. After years and years of living as a brother and sister, it was so difficult to cast off those identities and put on new ones.
    "I miss you, Jimmy," I said. "More than ever now that I'm in New York. It's so big and scary."
    "Don't worry, Dawn. I'll be there before you know it and I know you're going to do well."
    "I've already made a friend, my roommate, Trisha Kramer. She's very nice. You're going to like her."
    "See? I knew it."
    "But Jimmy, you should try to find Daddy, especially now that you're going into the army. He needs you, Jimmy. I hate to think of him coming out of that horrible prison and being all alone. He doesn't have Momma; he doesn't have Fern; and he doesn't have you."
    There was a silence between us.
    "Jimmy?"
    "I've written him a letter," Jimmy confessed.
    "Oh Jimmy, I'm so glad."
    "I did it mostly because you wanted me to," he said, putting a manly gruffness into his voice.
    "That makes me happy, Jimmy, to know you did something nice because of me," I said softly.
    "Uh, huh," he said quickly. "What about your new family? Are they going come to visit you?"
    "They say they are. Jimmy . . ."
    "Yes, Dawn?"
    "You're still my real family," I said. He was silent on the other end for a long moment.
    "I've got to hang up, Dawn. I've got to pack and do some things yet."
    "Be careful, Jimmy. And write me. Please!" I begged.
    "Of course, I'll write you. Just don't become a big star too fast and forget me," he teased.
    "I'll never do that, Jimmy. I promise."
    "Bye, Dawn."
    "Bye."
    "Dawn!" he cried.
    "Yes, Jimmy?"
    "I love you," he said quickly.
    I knew how hard it was for him to say it, to put into words feelings we had believed sinful.
    "I love you, too, Jimmy," I said and then I heard the phone click dead. I was about to cradle my receiver when I thought I heard another click. Had Agnes Morris been listening? Maybe Grandmother Cutler had employed her as a spy.
    It wasn't until I cradled my receiver and stood up that I realized tears were streaming down my cheeks. They dropped off my chin. I scrubbed my cheeks with my palms and walked slowly out of the sitting room and up the stairs.
    Trisha was in bed, reading a magazine when I entered. She dropped the magazine quickly and looked at me with eyes full of questions.
    "Who's Jimmy?" she asked.
    "The boy I believed was my brother for years and years and years," I said. Her lips gaped open.
    "You thought was your brother?" she asked. I nodded.
    "A boy who you thought was your brother? A grandmother who writes nasty letters about you? What kind of a family do you come from anyway?"
    I could see it was time to tell her some of my story. If I was going to have a friend, a true friend, I couldn't keep too many deep, dark secrets from her. I had to trust her, take my chances and trust her with my tale. I could only hope and pray she wouldn't betray me and spread my story all over the school, a story that would make me seem like something freakish to the others, especially people who didn't know me.
    "Will you promise not to tell anyone what I tell you?" I asked her.
    "Of course," she said, her eyes wide with excitement. "Cross my heart and hope to die," she said, drawing an X over her breasts. I nodded and sat down on my bed. She went to her knees and sat back on her legs, tossing her hair over her shoulder and folding her hands on her lap. She looked like she was holding her breath.
    My thoughts took wing to Jimmy and I recalled the way we would lie awake for hours and hours talking,