Cutler 03 - Twilight's Child

pocketbook."
    There was a tiny cry from her end.
    "What is it?" I asked.
    "It's my money," she said. "She was taking it behind my back, I'm afraid. I couldn't imagine why I didn't have as much as I was supposed to in my pocketbook.
    "I must tell you," she continued, "that she once took money from a friend who had slept overnight. I never told Clayton about that time because he gets so worked up over those things, but I should have realized. I don't know why she steals; she never lacked anything. She's not still doing that sort of thing, is she?" she asked quickly.
    "No," I lied.
    "Good. Then maybe she will change for the better. Just do me one favor," she said.
    "Of course. What is it?"
    "When you can, when the moment allows, please tell her I still love her very much. Will you?" she begged.
    "Yes," I said.
    "I'll try to call you again real soon," she said, and then she said good-bye.
    Later in the day I found Jimmy on his way down to the basement. I stopped him and told him about my telephone conversation with Leslie Osborne. His eyes narrowed, and he shook his head.
    "It's just like the school principal said," he remarked when I told him of her stealing. "She was trying to reach out, to get someone to notice her and the terrible thing that was happening to her."
    "But Jimmy, it's not happening to her here. Why should she still steal?"
    "If she did," he emphasized. "If she did. I still think that money's been misplaced. Anyway, even if she did, it's just a bad habit now," he added. "She's going to grow out of it as she becomes more and more secure about us and herself. You'll see.
    "Besides," he said, growing angry, "I wouldn't believe anything that woman said. Those two . . . How could she not know what her husband was doing? Next time she calls, don't speak to her," he commanded. "She was either blind or too selfish to see," he added, and he marched away.
    Oh, Jimmy, I thought fearfully as I watched him turn the corner in the hallway, it's you who have become blind now.
    And how will I ever get you to see?

 
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    MOTHER MADE GOOD ON HER PROMISE AND HELD A DINNER IN Fern's honor. As usual, it was more of a banquet. Why she felt it was necessary to impress a ten-and-a-half-year-old girl, I'll never know, but there we were, seated at the long table: Mother in one of her elegant gowns, Bronson dressed impeccably as usual in a burgundy sports jacket and matching cravat, and servants flying all around us, pouring water and wine, mixing our salads, hovering nearby to lunge if one of us should so much as lean toward the butter dish. The one thing that Mother did to please me was not invite any other guests. There were only members of the family present: Jimmy and me and Christie, Philip, Betty Ann and the twins, and Fern, of course, who Mother insisted be permitted to sit at the head of the table.
    "She is, after all, the guest of honor," Mother announced. "And quite a pretty one, if I might say so."
    Fern looked as pleased as could be at the comment. Jimmy had asked me to take her to one of the finest department stores in Virginia Beach to buy her a new dress for the occasion. She had chosen an expensive blue velvet with a white lace collar and cuffs. The dress had a sash at the waist with a bow on the hip, too. Actually, it was more of a dress for a girl well into her teens, but with a few adjustments Fern could wear it well. She also talked me into buying her a padded bra, claiming all her new girlfriends at school were wearing them. I gathered that she was hanging around with older children, just as she had when she attended the Marion Lewis School in New York, but I didn't make an issue over it.
    Naturally, I had to buy her shoes to match the dress, and when we walked past a jewelry store she eyed a gold-plated necklace and matching teardrop earrings so covetously, I just had to get the set for her. After she hugged me and thanked me profusely, I began to regret what I was doing.
    Was I no better than Clayton and Leslie Osborne, trying to buy her affection and love?
    I gave her permission to go to our hair salon in the hotel, and our top stylist, Elaine Diana, washed and styled Fern's hair in a much more mature look. Elaine, unbeknownst to me, made up Fern's face for her as well. When Fern emerged from her room, dressed in her new clothing, bedecked in her new jewelry, her hair redone, her cheeks brushed with rouge, her eyelids painted and her lips covered in a bright pink shade, she looked