Cutler 03 - Twilight's Child

in. The single uncovered light bulb was on, and it cast a pale yellow glow over the otherwise dark room. I walked down the steps slowly and gazed in. Jimmy was on his back on the old cot, his hands behind his head, staring up at the ceiling.
    "Jimmy," I said softly. He turned slowly and then shook his head and turned away. I rushed across the old dirt and stone floor and knelt down at his side. Without speaking I buried my face in his chest.
    "Oh, Jimmy," I cried. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. Please don't hate me. Please," I begged through my tears.
    "I don't hate you, Dawn. I'm just afraid you're becoming too much like the woman you once despised."
    "No, Jimmy, I'm not."
    He stared at me a moment.
    "You know why I was so mad at you when I first heard you had gone to him?"
    "Yes, because I didn't tell you."
    "No," he said. "Because I was afraid I would lose you to him again."
    "Really, Jimmy?" He nodded. "You will never lose me, Jimmy. Never, never, never. When you ran out of my office before, I thought I was going to lose you."
    "I don't ever want to feel that way again, Dawn," he said. "We must promise never to lie to each other again. Will you promise?"
    "Of course I will, Jimmy."
    He looked around and smiled.
    "I can remember every moment in here with you. I remember our first kiss, how long it took for me to bring my lips to yours."
    "And then we pretended to be meeting each other for the first time," I said.
    "We were, for the first time as boyfriend and girlfriend."
    "And now we're here as husband and wife," I said.
    He shook his head and smiled again, tenderly.
    "What am I going to do with you? I guess I'll just have to keep a closer eye on you," he said.
    "There's nothing I want more," I told him, and we kissed. He guided me up and moved over on the cot, coaxing me in beside him.
    "Jimmy . . . here?" I said when he drew me to him. "What could be more romantic than for us to make love where we had our first kiss?" he asked.
    I answered with another kiss, a longer and more passionate one, and then I slipped in beside him and welcomed his caress.
     
    Jimmy and I behaved like teenagers sneaking about as we came up the stone steps. We didn't want to have to answer anyone's questions. Jimmy peered out first to be sure no one was nearby.
    "I'd better get back to work," Jimmy said, and we parted by the duck pond, him rushing off to join the construction team at the south end of the main building and me walking back to my office. The afternoon sunshine was weak, but still strong enough to feel like a warm caress on my cheeks and forehead. In the distance two enormous puffy clouds looked like mountains of white cotton rushing toward each other over a sea of blue. The winter wind made a burlap bag caught on the handle of a lawn mower flap like the flag of some unknown country.
    Nature had a way of making me pensive and philosophical. How close I had come to losing Jimmy, I thought, and how lucky I was that he loved me so much. Would I eventually have told him about Michael? I wondered. Thinking about it reminded me of what Fern had done. Why did she dislike me so much? Why did she want to drive a wedge between Jimmy and me? How sad it made me feel to think that the little baby I had once loved and cared for almost as much as my very own child had grown into a spiteful and mean little girl. How much could we excuse because of what had happened to her? I wondered. And what damage were Jimmy and I doing by overlooking and forgiving?
    Instead of going directly to the hotel I marched across the grounds to our house. Before dinner tonight I wanted to have a private conversation with Fern so she understood that what she had done was wrong. I wanted to impress upon her how deeply and completely Jimmy and I loved each other, and that nothing she could do would change that. She should be happy she is living in a house of love, I thought. Wasn't that what she wanted? Wasn't the absence of that what she despised?
    When I arrived at the house I went directly upstairs, expecting to find Fern working on her homework as usual. I knocked on her closed door and waited, but I heard nothing. I knocked again and then opened the door. She wasn't there. Looking around the room, I realized she wasn't keeping it very neat these days. Some of her clothing was strewn about, draped over the backs of chairs, on the vanity table and on the poorly made bed. One half of a pair of sneakers was in front of the bed while its mate rested on