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Cutler 03 - Twilight's Child

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phoned twice already. Clara Sue's failing all her subjects and being very disruptive in class. She's a major problem at the dormitory, violating curfews, and . . . and she was caught smoking and drinking whiskey in her room with two other girls.
    "Now," Mother continued, gasping and falling back into a chair as if she were in the first stages of a heart attack, "she's been found in the boys' dormitory, alone with a boy in his room!"
    She started to bawl. Christie sat up and stared at her, wide-eyed. Mother was a mystery to her as it was, barely acknowledging her existence.
    "I can't turn to Randolph for help. He's a pathetic creature who won't listen to me when I tell him how ludicrous he appears and how he is becoming the laughingstock of the Cove. Half the time he doesn't hear anything I say," she moaned. "He's draining me, killing me, and now Clara Sue . . . I can't stand all this tension and controversy, Dawn," she complained. "You know I can't."
    "I told you to have the doctor examine Randolph," I said dryly.
    "I called him. He saw him," she confessed.
    "You never told me that. I didn't know. When was this?" I asked in surprise.
    "Last week," she said, waving away the topic. But I didn't want to wave it away.
    "And? What did he say? What did he do?" I demanded.
    "He wanted me to have him placed in a mental hospital for observation and treatment. Can you imagine? An asylum! Just think of the gossip—a Cutler in the loony bin. How people would look at me, married to a raving lunatic! It's degrading," she cried.
    "But how about what's good for him, Mother?" I asked pointedly, my eyes glued hotly on her.
    "Oh, he'll be all right." She waved a hand dismissively. "I told the doctor to prescribe some pills, some sedatives, and he's considering it, but until then all of it is falling on my shoulders, Dawn. Can't you help me, do something?"
    "Me? What do you want me to do?" I asked with surprise.
    "I don't know. Call Mrs. Turnbell and speak to her about Clara Sue. They want to expel her from Emerson Peabody."
    "Me? Call Mrs. Turnbell?" I started to laugh. "She hated the sight of me and did everything she could to get Jimmy and me out of there," I said, recalling how unfairly we had been treated.
    "But that was in the past. Now you're the owner of a major resort. You can promise her a bigger donation. Anything. What will I do if Clara Sue is expelled? Another disgrace on top of . . ."
    "Your own," I said coldly.
    "That's just like you, Dawn, to turn on me when I need you the most," she said, her eyes narrowing hatefully. "And here I'm working day and night to make your wedding successful. I would think you would show a little gratitude and treat me with more respect. After all, I am your mother. You seem to enjoy forgetting that fact."
    I shook my head. There was no limit to her nerve. She had no shame when it came to certain things, especially if it had to do with her own comfort and happiness.
    "Mother," I said, "even if you and I were closer and I wanted to help you with Clara Sue, I couldn't. You're not listening to me. Mrs. Turnbell probably won't even accept a phone call from me. And what makes you think Clara Sue would listen to anything I said? She hates and resents me and hasn't hesitated to let me know it.
    "No," I said, "you're going to have to assume your parental responsibility and go see Clara Sue and Mrs. Turnbell. Have a meeting and discuss the problems."
    "What? What an outrageous idea! Me? Dragged into that school, into this mess?" She ground the tears out of her eyes with her small fists and laughed. "How ridiculous."
    "You're her mother. Not me. You must bear the responsibility," I insisted.
    "I'm her mother, but that doesn't mean I'm to be made to suffer because of it." She sat there a moment thinking. "All right," she said. "If you refuse to help, then send Mr. Updike. Yes," she said, liking the idea more and more, "what's the point of having an attorney if we don't use him for these things?"
    "Our attorney is not supposed to serve as a surrogate parent, Mother. He's supposed to give us legal advice and take care of our contractual needs," I replied.
    "Nonsense. Mr. Updike has always been a part of the family, in a way. Grandmother Cutler treated him as if he were, and he likes it. He'll help me. I just know he will. He'll call that principal and stop them from expelling Clara Sue," she concluded. She rose and saw herself in my vanity-table mirror.
    "Just look," she moaned. "Just look at the effect

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