Cutler 03 - Twilight's Child

I would have thought they were just too old for you," I said.
    "Well, they're not. I like the stories. You're not going to take them away from me, are you? That's what Clayton used to do."
    "No, I'm not taking them away, but—"
    "You're being just as mean as he was," she cried, and she buried her face in her pillow. Her shoulders rose and fell with her sobs.
    "Fern," I said, going to her, "I didn't say you couldn't have your magazines." I sat on the bed and put my hand on her shoulder, but she pulled away and jumped off the bed as if my touch was scalding.
    "I didn't steal that money. I didn't!" she screamed, slapping her fists against the sides of her legs. "Mrs. Bradly is an old witch for telling you I did. She's an old witch, and you're terrible to believe her," she cried, running from the room.
    "Fern!"
    I got up and went after her, but she bounded down the stairs and out the front door. Mrs. Boston came to the foot of the stairs and looked up.
    "I'm afraid I didn't handle that too well, Mrs. Boston," I said.
    She shook her head.
    "It's not going to be easy for anyone to handle that one," she said prophetically, and then she returned to her work. I went back to the hotel. A short while later Jimmy came into my office, his eyes full of pain and anger. He sat down quietly and stared at me.
    "What happened with Fern?" he asked, his throat constricted, his voice under tight harness. I could feel the tension in the air between us.
    "Jimmy," I said softly, leaning toward him, "I think Fern took money from the petty cash fund."
    Before he could respond, I told him everything Mrs. Bradly had told me. He listened and then shook his head.
    "Why would she steal money, Dawn, and from us? She can have anything she wants. She doesn't need money," he said.
    I told him about the money I had seen in her pocketbook when we were in New York.
    "So?" he said. "That proves she wouldn't need money. She has more than she needs."
    "But Jimmy, people sometimes steal for other reasons," I began.
    "She wouldn't steal from us," he insisted firmly. "And I'm really surprised that you went and accused her."
    "I didn't accuse her, Jimmy. I asked her if she knew anything about it, and she got hysterical on me," I said.
    "That's my point," he fired. "You knew how sensitive and fragile she is because of all that's happened to her. Of all people, you should be more sympathetic, Dawn. She came running to me and was crying so hard, I thought I would never calm her down. My shirt is soaked with her tears," he added.
    "I'm sorry, Jimmy. I was only trying to head off a bigger problem. I thought—"
    "I promised her I would talk to you and that later you would apologize to her," he said.
    I stared at him a moment. His words and anger left me numb. Tears flooded my eyes, but I held them back.
    "I didn't do anything wrong, Jimmy," I said softly.
    "It's not what you did, Dawn, it's how Fern feels. I thought you understood her yearning to be loved, her yearning for family."
    "Okay, Jimmy," I said, swallowing my pride. "I'll apologize to her if you think that's the right thing to do."
    "It is," he insisted. "And Dawn," he said, standing, "next time there's any sort of problem involving Fern, please come to me with it first."
    My heart felt like a chunk of lead in my chest. I couldn't swallow, and one of my burning tears escaped from the corner of my eye, but Jimmy was already on his way out and didn't see it.
    "Jimmy!" I cried when he reached the door. He turned back.
    "What?"
    "What do you suppose did happen to that money?" I asked him pointedly.
    "I don't know, Dawn. Mrs. Bradly is getting along in years. It wouldn't surprise me if she found it stuck under some papers one day," he said, and he left.
    And suddenly I realized that love could be wicked, too; it could beguile us like witchcraft and turn day into night, black into white and guilt into innocence.

 
    16

FERN'S TRUE COLORS
     
    I DIDN'T WANT TO APOLOGIZE TO FERN BECAUSE I THOUGHT IT would be worse for her than for me if I did so. Despite the terrible thing that had happened to her, I saw that she was a spoiled little girl in so many ways. We weren't helping her mature and change for the better by catering to her like this, I thought, but Jimmy was so upset, I had no choice. When I returned to the house I found her up in her room. This time I knocked on her door, but she made me knock twice before she said "Come in."
    "I'm doing my homework," she said as soon as I entered.
    "I'm not here to check