Cutler 02 - Secrets of the Morning

hotel?"
    "Dawn!" My mother's eyes flared. "Oh dear," she said. "My heart is pounding something fierce, Randolph. I think I might just faint away at the table."
    "Easy, my darling," he said, leaning over with concern. He took her hand into his and patted it quickly.
    Why can't he see how phony she is? I wondered. Or didn't he care?
    "I think we had better go," my mother said between gasps. "I need to get back to the hotel and lie down, otherwise I won't be able to go tomorrow."
    "Of course," Randolph said. He signaled the waiter and demanded the check immediately.
    "See what you've done," Clara Sue accused, the self-satisfaction written all over her face. "You're always causing some sort of trouble."
    "Clara Sue!" Randolph chastised.
    "Well she is. Look at all the terrible things she did at the hotel last summer. I told you I didn't want to take her out to dinner," she said, sitting back hard and folding her arms under her bosom, her face in a quick sulk.
    "Clara Sue, please," our mother begged. Clara Sue's face folded into a small smile. She was very satisfied with herself and what had occurred.
    "I feel very sorry for you," I said to her. "You have nobody but yourself and you know you can't stand yourself."
    Her mouth dropped open, but before she could reply, Randolph had paid the check and helped my mother to her feet. We all started out. The ride back in the limousine was dreary. It was like riding in a hearse. No one spoke to anyone and the whole time, my mother sat there with her head on Randolph's shoulder, her eyes shut tight. Clara Sue glared out one window and I glared out the other.
    When we pulled up in front of the apartment house, only Randolph stepped out with me.
    "I'm sorry our dinner wasn't more pleasant," he said. "Perhaps when we return from our trip, we will be able to stop by and try again. If Laura Sue is up to it, that is," he added.
    I looked back at the limousine. My mother was still lying back on the seat with her eyes closed and Clara Sue was gazing out innocently.
    "I doubt she will be," I said, turned to go up the stairway and then spun around on him. "But you should demand to know why your mother fired Sissy," I cried and ran the rest of the way up the stairs and into the house without turning back.
     
    After the holidays and the termination of my punishment, the school year moved more quickly for me. Each week I looked forward to receiving one of Jimmy's letters from overseas, and fortunately, the letters came like clockwork. He filled them with detailed descriptions of Berlin and European people and their customs. He always ended his letters with his vows of love and promised to return as quickly as he could. I filled pages and pages of notebook paper, describing every little thing I did, down to what flavor ice cream soda I had at George's Luncheonette and mailed it to him.
    Daddy Longchamp hadn't written me for a long time. Then in April, I received a short letter from him which left me feeling cold and unhappy.
     
    Dear Dawn,
    I'm sorry I haven't written to you much, but I've been busy with my new work among other things. One of the other things that's kept me busy is getting to know Edwina Freemont who's had a rough life herself with her husband dying and all.
    Anyway, we got to know each other real well and been keeping each other from suffering too much loneliness. One day we just looked at each other and both thought why not up and get married? Also, I've been talking to a lawyer who says if there would ever be a chance of me getting back Fern, it would improve a whole lot if I was married and there was a mother in the house. So there it is.
    I hope things been going well for you. I wrote Jimmy and told him too.
    Love,
    Daddy
     
    After I read the letter, all I could think about was Momma. I kept telling myself I should be understanding and think about Daddy Longchamp being all alone, especially with Jimmy off to Europe. But every time I told myself that, I saw Momma's face. Finally, all I could do was bury my own face in the pillow and bawl. I cried until my tears dried up and I could cry no more. I buried the letter with my other mementos and didn't tell anyone about it, not even Trisha.
    A few weeks later, Jimmy wrote to tell me about Daddy Longchamp's marriage. He said he had expected it so he was more prepared for it than he imagined I was. He had met Edwina Freemont and said she was a very nice woman, but he admitted it still hurt him inside to know that his daddy had a