Cutler 03 - Twilight's Child

what he had done to me?
    But if Jimmy should find out, he would be furious with me, I thought. He would be more than furious—he would be deeply hurt. I couldn't decide.
    "You don't have to tell her who I am," Michael suggested, anticipating some of my hesitation. "We'll pretend I'm an old friend visiting. That way no one need know," he said, and he added, "No one knows who I am here. I'm not in town to do any performing; I'm just passing through."
    "I don't know, Michael. I—"
    "What's her name?" he asked quickly.
    "Christie," I said, realizing how terribly sad and tragic it was that her father hadn't known her name until now.
    "Beautiful name. Did we pick that out? I can't remember."
    "No, Michael, we didn't."
    "Anyway," he said, wisely changing the subject, "for me to be so close to you and Christie and not to see you . . . it would be a sin," he said.
    "Don't talk to me of sins," I snapped back.
    "Oh, I wouldn't be blaming you. No, no. I'd be blaming myself. It would be another sin added to those I have unfortunately accumulated. Dawn, just for a few minutes, even just ten minutes . . ."
    "It would have to be late in the afternoon tomorrow, after Christie returns from school," I said, relenting.
    "Fine, fine. We'll have some tea at my hotel. What time?"
    "Four o'clock," I said, not believing I was agreeing to this.
    "Perfect. I'll do nothing but wait all day. Thank you.
    Good-bye until then," he said, and he cradled the phone just as I had second thoughts.
    "Michael, wait—"
    The line was dead. Slowly I returned my receiver to its cradle and then sat back. I shouldn't do this without telling Jimmy, I thought. He would never understand. And yet I knew if I did tell him, he would be furious. He might even go down to the hotel in Virginia Beach before I did and pound Michael through the floor or throw him through a window.
    No, it was better I did it without his knowing, quickly, staying only a few minutes. I would do just as Michael suggested—I would tell Christie we were visiting some old friend. I'd pretend we just happened to meet him.
    I couldn't believe how my body was shaking. Was I trembling because of fear, or was I trembling because of excitement? Michael's handsome face flashed before me. I had done so well keeping those memories locked and buried in the deepest chambers of my heart, but in a moment Michael had burst into my new life and torn open the black chest of remembrances, permitting them to escape into my conscious thoughts. Once again I heard the music, saw his impish glint, heard his laughter and felt myself being swept up in his arms. Falling in love with someone so debonair, sophisticated and handsome had been overwhelming for a girl my age. The power of those recollections was enormous. They could still bring a flush to my face and take my breath away.
    Try as I would, I couldn't put my impending rendezvous with Michael out of mind. Every moment of silence was filled with the sound of Michael's voice, the memory of his singing or his laughter. And if I stopped working, my mind drifted back quickly to some scene with him in New York, even just walking alongside him in the corridors of the school.
    At dinner Jimmy noticed I was going in and out of daydreams, and finally he asked me if anything was wrong.
    "You look so distracted at times," he said. "Are you worried about something new?" he asked, shifting his eyes toward Fern.
    "Oh, no," I said quickly, realizing how guilty I looked. "I was just thinking about some of the suggestions Mr. Dorfman made concerning the hotel's expansion."
    "I thought we were going to try to put the hotel behind us when we entered our sanctuary," Jimmy reminded me.
    "You're right, Jimmy. I'm sorry," I said, and I immersed myself in the conversation he was having with Fern and Christie about school.
    Later, when I went in to kiss Christie good night, I told her she and I were going to go shopping in Virginia Beach as soon as she returned home from school.
    "Is Aunt Fern coming, too?" she asked.
    "No, no, it's just us, honey. She has to do her schoolwork. In fact, you shouldn't tell her anything; it would just make her unhappy that she can't go," I said. I hated bringing Christie into this deception, but I still believed it was for the best.
    "You mean like a secret," she said.
    "Sort of. Yes. Think of it like that," I coached, and I kissed her. "Good night, sweetheart," I said, and I thought, Soon you will see your real father, and you won't even know it—not