Cutler 03 - Twilight's Child

"I just want to go upstairs and read."
    "Go on, then," Jimmy said.
    As soon as she left the room Christie turned to me. "What's the matter with Aunt Fern?" she asked.
    "She's growing up too fast," I said. Christie looked at me quizzically.
    "Am I growing up too fast, Momma?" she asked.
    "I hope not, sweetheart. I really hope not," I said. It brought a smile back to Jimmy's face, but he couldn't help turning toward the door and looking after Fern, worry drawing dark shadows around his eyes. I reached across the table and touched his hand. "I'll speak to her, Jimmy," I promised.
    Afterward I went upstairs and knocked softly on her door. "Come in," she said. She was curled up on her bed, reading a library book.
    "Fern," I began, "I think maybe you and I ought to have a heart-to-heart talk."
    "You mean talk about sex?" she said, turning the corners of her mouth down.
    "Yes. Apparently you are growing up very fast. Did Leslie ever sit down and discuss it with you?"
    She laughed.
    "Hardly," she said. Then she leaned toward me and said in a whisper, "I don't think she and Clayton even do anything together anymore. They have separate bedrooms, you know," she said, sitting back.
    "That," she added, "is probably why he did what he did to me."
    I was astounded. How could a girl this young be so sophisticated when it came to sex? And then I thought, maybe growing up in New York City did it. She was exposed to more and consequently learned faster.
    "You seem to know a great deal more than I did when I was your age, Fern," I said. She shrugged. "Where did you learn it all, then, if Leslie didn't talk to you?"
    "From friends at school and stuff," she said nonchalantly.
    "What's 'stuff' mean?"
    "Books and magazines and things. Just stuff," she said. "I see. Well, may I tell you something, some wise things I have learned, then?"
    "Sure," she said. She finally looked intrigued, interested in something I had to say.
    "Your body is just turning into the body of a young woman. Things are changing in you—"
    "I know. I'm getting a bosom. Boys notice, too," she added, pleased with herself.
    "It's not just getting a bosom, Fern. Becoming a grown woman involves a lot more. You have different feelings. Suddenly things—things you never expect to happen—happen. You cry for apparently no reason; you long to feel things, touch things, hear and see things that didn't interest you very much before.
    "And boys . . . boys can become fascinating. You notice things about them that you've never noticed before, and you want to be around them a lot more.
    "Mostly," I continued, "you want them to think of you as a young woman now, and not as a little girl, right? That's why you like hanging around the older boys at the hotel, and that's why you beg cigarettes and smoke with them in the basement," I added.
    Her eyes widened.
    "Who told you that? Robert Garwood, I bet. He's an ogre. I don't even like him. He's lying!"
    "I know you smoked cigarettes down in the basement, Fern," I repeated, "but I've never told Jimmy. You shouldn't think I want to turn him against you. I don't, but you will turn him against you if you don't take your time growing up.
    "I know it might sound silly to you, but you've got to be careful about your feelings. Sometimes they run away with you, and you do things you regret later."
    "Like when you got pregnant with Christie?" she asked quickly.
    "Yes, but I was lucky I had Jimmy to love me. Not everyone is so lucky, Fern. Instead of relying on being lucky, you should rely on being wise. If you throw yourself at older boys, they're going to think you're not wise, and they're going to take advantage of you. I think you understand what I'm saying, don't you?"
    She nodded.
    "It's just a dance," she muttered.
    "Older boys don't think of it that way, and I think that this older boy saw something in you that gave him reason to believe you didn't, either. Otherwise he might not have asked you," I said.
    "Why? I'm just as pretty as some of the girls in the ninth and tenth grades," she asserted.
    "I'm sure you are—even prettier—but that's not the point, is it? Why didn't he ask one of those girls? All we're asking is that you take your time growing up. It will all come; you will have an army of boyfriends, I'm sure, and you won't miss a thing."
    "Then when can I go to a dance?" she asked.
    "Soon, I'm sure. And when the time is right, we won't stop you; we'll be happy for you." I patted her on the hand and got up.
    "Jimmy's really mad at