Cutler 02 - Secrets of the Morning

stepping closer, "my love."
    I beamed with pride. Michael helped me put on my coat and kissed me on the cheek.
    "Our taxi is already here," he said and we left the apartment.
    It was a long ride through the city. Michael wasn't exaggerating when he said he knew an out-of-the-way restaurant. The driver wound us around street after street until we finally arrived at a small Italian restaurant on the corner of a block. The restaurant was simply called Mom's. It was far from anything fancy—a small room with a very small bar and about a dozen tables, but to me it was the most romantic and wonderful restaurant I had ever been in.
    Michael sat us at a corner table in the darkest section of the small room. He was right about our not attracting attention. No one seemed to notice us or care once we had entered and taken our seats. But everything we ordered and ate was homemade and delicious. Michael ordered the most expensive wine and we drank nearly two bottles of it. He knew so much about wines and foods because of his traveling. He described some of the famous restaurants he had been to all over the world.
    The only thing I could tell him about was the food at Cutler's Cove Hotel. I described Nussbaum, the chef, and how special every dinner was at the hotel.
    "Grandmother Cutler, with my mother sometimes accompanying her, greets the guests at the door and then visits them at their tables, making them all feel at home."
    "She may be a tyrant," Michael said, "but it seems she knows what to do to make the hotel a success. She sounds like a very smart businesswoman. I wouldn't mind meeting her one day," he said.
    "You would hate her. She would make you feel lower than an ant just because you are only an entertainer. She respects only pure bloods, wealthy pure bloods," I said, practically spitting the words.
    I told Michael how she had tried to ruin my days at Bernhardt from the beginning by writing the letter of lies to Agnes.
    "Soon you will be free of all that," he said, placing his hand over mine and squeezing my fingers lovingly. "And people like her won't be able to hurt you anymore."
    "Oh Michael," I said, "I can't wait for that day." "Well," he said, a sly twinkle in his eyes, "it may be sooner than you think."
    "Michael," I cried, nearly jumping out of my seat, "what do you mean?"
    "I shouldn't tell you this," he replied, a small, tight smile on his lips, "but there is a strong possibility I might be able to get you a spot in the new Broadway show."
    "Michael!" I thought I would faint right then and there. I felt my heart begin to pound with excitement, making it so hard for me to breathe, I could feel my chest ache. Me, on Broadway? Already?
    "It's nothing definite," he warned. "It's just a possibility. We've got to work a lot more on your singing. Being on stage in a musical is a lot different than stepping out to sing a tune or two at your local high school concert."
    "Oh, I understand. Of course. But I'll work hard, very hard, Michael. I really will."
    "I know you will," he said, patting my hand again. "It's in your blood. Didn't I tell you that from the start?"
    After Michael paid the bill and we left the little restaurant, I didn't mind the long ride back to his apartment. I spent it in his arms, dreaming of the Broadway stage and of being with him from one glorious moment to another. Who would have thought that what Momma Longchamp had told me years and years ago would come true.
    I knew now she had been trying to forget the tragic events that had led to my abduction. It was as if I had been born a lie. She couldn't live with that or her own sense of guilt either and in time, she got herself to believe the story she had created about my being born at the dawning of day with the birds singing.
    "They put a song on your lips forever and ever," she told me. "Someday, people will hear you sing and they will know about the miracle that occurred when that beautiful songbird gave you its voice to celebrate your birth."
    That day was drawing closer and faster than you could have imagined, Momma, I thought, and with love in my heart, my voice would be more beautiful than even I could have imagined.
     
    The time that Michael and I had left together flew by more quickly than I wanted. When the morning of the final day came, I was reluctant to open my eyes to face it. Trisha and I had planned it all out. I was to take a cab to the bus station and meet her when she came off the bus from home. Then we would take a taxi back