Cutler 03 - Twilight's Child

This was not the immaculate, debonair man with whom I had fallen so quickly and so deeply in love. This man couldn't even sweep one of my chambermaids off her feet, I thought.
    "Dawn," he said, extending his hand. Gone was the impressive gold pinky ring and the glittering gold watch. His fingers seemed to tremble in my grasp. "It's so good to see you after all these years." Although his face was ashen, his dark sapphire eyes still had that impish glint.
    "Hello, Michael."
    "And this," he said, stepping back and looking down, "must be Christie. I couldn't have missed you in a crowd of schoolgirls your age," he added. "She's beautiful," he said, lifting his eyes to me. "You've done a wonderful job. Hello, Christie." He offered her his hand, and she took it and shook it like a little lady. He laughed. "I bought you something," he told her, and he fished in his jacket pocket to produce a small box.
    "Oh, Michael," I said.
    "It's all right; it's nothing special," he said.
    "Yes, but I'll have to explain it," I said.
    "I'm sorry. I couldn't resist getting her something."
    "What is it?" Christie asked. Michael winked at me.
    "I'm a jewelry salesman," he said, "and I thought you might like a sample of what I sell."
    She took the gift.
    "What do you say, Christie?"
    "Thank you. Can I open it? Can I?"
    "Sure," Michael said. "Let's go right in here and have a cup of tea or something," he said, indicating the lounge.
    "We can't stay long. I have my chauffeur outside," I told him.
    "I know. We'll sit for just a few minutes and visit. Christie," he said, extending his hand. She took it, and he led her toward the lounge. I took a deep breath and followed. We sat in a booth, and Michael ordered Christie a Shirley Temple.
    "Would you like tea, or something stronger?" he asked. "Tea would be fine."
    "Tea, and a scotch and soda for me," he said. He smiled at me across the table. "Remember that first day when I took you for cappuccino?"
    "I remember. But more important, I remember the day you weren't there," I said pointedly. Michael's aged and disheveled look diminished the magic I feared would blind me to the truth and cause me to overlook the effects his mean and cruel behavior had had on me and my life. Looking at him now, I saw him as only a man. He didn't walk in a spotlight; there was no music in the background. His face was no longer the face enshrined on magazine covers.
    "Oh, look, Momma," Christie exclaimed after she opened the box. She had lifted a gold chain and a locket from it; the locket had a musical note on the outside.
    "Oooh," Christie exclaimed with admiration as she dangled it before herself.
    "I once gave a locket like that to someone I loved very much," Michael said, gazing at me.
    I remembered; it was on a Thanksgiving, but I had left that behind with so many other things when I had been whisked off to The Meadows to give birth.
    "The note looks like an A," Christie declared. Michael laughed.
    "Don't tell me she's a musician, too."
    "She's taking piano lessons," I said.
    "I bet she's very good," he replied, nodding, his eyes small and intent, "considering her parents' genes. What grade are you in, Christie?"
    "First grade," she replied proudly. "And I'm in the first group."
    "First group?"
    "She's being accelerated," I explained. "She does second grader's work."
    "Oh, I see. That's very nice. She's absolutely the most precious little girl I've ever seen," he declared. "What I lost, huh?" he said. The waitress brought our drinks. I sipped my tea as Michael took a long gulp of his scotch and soda, as if to fortify himself.
    "Yes, Michael," I finally said, "what you lost, what you turned away, discarded without so much as leaving a note behind. Do you have any idea what that was like for me?" I asked, my eyes burning with anger. His eyes turned softer, meeting and locking with mine as I went on. "Not to even give me a warning, a hint, a phone call." Tears flooded my eyes, but I kept them trapped. I was determined not to cry, not to give him the satisfaction.
    "I was horrible, I know," he replied. He lowered his gaze to his glass and then looked up at me. "But I couldn't stop myself from falling in love with you, even though it was very wrong for me to do it."
    "We were overcoming those things, Michael. We had real plans, and you knew I didn't care what people said, including my so-called family at the time. Our age difference wasn't important, and as far as your being my teacher and your risking your teaching