Cutler 03 - Twilight's Child

you drive or fly?" she followed.
    "We flew," Jimmy said, smiling. His warm expression drew her gaze, and for a moment, a fleeting moment, I was sure I saw something in her eyes, some note of recognition, or at least some deep-seated curiosity.
    "Wasn't I born in Virginia?" she demanded of Leslie. Leslie smiled softly.
    "I've told you dozens of times, Kelly," Leslie explained. "You were born in the emergency room of a hospital just outside of Richmond, Virginia. Your father and I had wandered off too far while I was in the ninth month."
    Born on the road, I thought—the same sort of lie Momma and Daddy Longchamp had told me. When I looked at Fern to see her reaction, however, I found she was already staring intently at me, as if she wanted to see my reaction more than I wanted to see hers. Jimmy flashed a disdainful gaze my way. He didn't think much of their fabrication.
    "And what do you do?" Fern asked. "Buy dozens and dozens of stocks and bonds like Daddy's other friends?"
    "We own and operate one of the biggest hotels in Virginia Beach," I explained. "It's called Cutler's Cove."
    "I've never been to Virginia Beach," Fern moaned.
    "Oh, you poor, deprived child," Clayton said, cutting into her with his sarcasm. "You've only been to the beaches in Spain and France and all over the Caribbean islands."
    "Do you have any children?" she asked me, ignoring Clayton.
    "A little girl, Christie."
    "How old?" she followed quickly.
    "Kelly, it's not polite to cross-examine people like that," Leslie said. She turned to us. "She's a very inquisitive child. Clayton thinks she will become a journalist."
    "Or work for the I.R.S.," he added, shaking his head.
    "That's all right. I don't mind," I said, turning back to Fern. "Christie's just over five, actually five and a half."
    "How come you have only one child, too?" she demanded.
    "Kelly!" Clayton glanced down at us and then stepped toward her. "Didn't your mother just tell you not to cross-examine? There are ways to carry on a civilized conversation and there are ways not to."
    "I'm just asking," she said.
    "I did try to have another child," I told her, "only I had a miscarriage."
    Fern's eyes brightened.
    "Wow," she muttered. I saw a smile take form on Jimmy's face.
    "What's your favorite subject in school?" he asked her. From the way he held himself as he gazed at her, I could feel his frustration . . . How he would like to jump up and embrace her, I thought. It was evident he saw all the resemblances to Momma Longchamp in her face, too.
    "English," she replied, "because I can make up stuff and write it sometimes."
    "Why, then, are you doing so poorly in the subject?" Clayton inquired.
    "The teacher doesn't like me."
    "None of your teachers likes you," Clayton commented. "Kelly's been having a little trouble adjusting to things this year," Leslie began.
    "This year?" Clayton said, raising his eyebrows. Leslie continued, ignoring him.
    "She happens to be a very bright girl who, whenever she wants to," she added, gazing at her, "can leap to the head of the class; but because the other students are a bit slower, she gets bored, and when she gets bored, she gets into trouble."
    "She's bored a lot these days," Clayton inserted.
    "Well, I hate the Marion Lewis School. All the kids there are snobs. I wish I was back in public school," she complained.
    "I don't think your record in public school is much to brag about, Kelly," Clayton said. He turned to us. "We were hoping that if we enrolled Kelly in this private school, she would change, benefit from the special attention, but she has to want to change herself."
    Fern pouted just the way I imagined she would. She embraced herself tightly and turned away, her lips pursed.
    "Have you been having good hotel seasons at Cutler's Cove?" Leslie asked me.
    "The last few years have been very good. We're going to expand the facilities next year. We're thinking of adding some tennis courts and buying a few more boats for the guests to use off our dock. We're getting younger guests these days," I explained.
    "You own your own boats?" Fern asked, slowly drawn back by my description.
    "Uh-huh," Jimmy said. "Sailboats and motorboats."
    "What else does the hotel have?" she inquired.
    "A large swimming pool, playing fields, gardens, a ball room, a game room, a card room . . ."
    "Cool," Fern exclaimed.
    "Kelly, I've asked you not to bring that juvenile jargon into the house," Clayton said. "One of Kelly's problems," he continued, "is her hanging around