Cutler 03 - Twilight's Child

all this has already had on me. There's a wrinkle trying to get deeper and longer," she said, pointing to the corner of her right eye. Of course, I could see nothing. Her skin was as smooth and as perfect as ever. She appeared immune to age.
    "And my hair," she said, pulling on some strands and spinning around to me. "Do you know what I found this morning while I was brushing my hair . . . do you?" I shook my head. "Gray hairs. Yes, they were gray."
    "Mother, everyone gets older," I sighed. "You can't expect to look like a young woman for your entire life, can you?"
    "If you don't let other people's problems affect you and you take good care of yourself, you can look young and beautiful for a long, long time, Dawn," she insisted.
    "Clara Sue's problems and Randolph's problems are not other people's problems, Mother. Clara Sue is your daughter; Randolph is your husband," I pointed out sharply.
    "Don't remind me," she said, and she started out. Then she turned in my doorway. "Someday you will understand me and see that I'm the one for whom you should feel the most sympathy," she predicted. Then she sniffed back her tears and walked out.
    I wanted to shout after her and tell her that I did pity her. I pitied her for being so selfish that she couldn't love other people, not even her own children. I wanted to tell her I pitied her for trying to stop what was natural and wished she could grow older gracefully, instead of battling every gray hair. She would wake up one day and feel like a prisoner in her own aging body. Mirrors would become torments, and pictures of herself when she was younger would be like pins sticking into her heart. But I stopped myself from uttering a single syllable. Why waste my breath and my strength? I thought.
    She did call Mr. Updike, and he did manage to get Clara Sue a reprieve. Mrs. Turnbell agreed to put her on probation, but I had no doubt that it was only a matter of time before she would get into serious trouble again. And I was against making any additional donations to Emerson Peabody to insure they kept her when Mr. Updike suggested it to me. Jimmy was pleased to hear about that.
    "I'd love to walk back into her office one day," he said, "and see the look on her face."
    "She's not worth the trip, Jimmy," I said.
    "Yeah, but next time we're in the area," he said, laughing.
    Life was filled with so many ironies, so many turns that led you to places you never imagined. A few years ago, when I had been whisked away from Jimmy and Fern and Daddy Longchamp, driven through the night to be returned to my real family here at Cutler's Cove, I felt terrible fear and dread. I remember being led into the hotel through a back entrance and brought directly to Grandmother Cutler, who made me feel lower than a worm and who tried to strip me of any dignity by forcing another name on me and making me clean toilets and make beds. And now I sat in her chair and signed the checks and made the decisions. I had my beautiful baby, and Jimmy and I were about to be married. No, I thought, this wasn't the time to cloud my heart with hate and dream of sweet revenge. This was a time to be forgiving and loving and hopeful.
    I didn't even lose my temper when Clara Sue phoned me a few days before my wedding to inform me she wouldn't be able to attend.
    "I have a date I can't break," she said. Perhaps she had expected I would beg her to do so.
    "Well, I'm sorry to hear that, Clara Sue," I said.
    "No one will even notice I'm not there," she added petulantly, still trying to get me to sound upset.
    "Maybe," I said. "But I'll do my best to remind them," I added. She missed my sarcasm.
    "I think it's stupid to marry the boy you once thought was your brother!" she exclaimed. "No one here who remembers you can believe it."
    "Well, I'm sure you will do your best to convince them it's true," I said.
    "That's not what I mean!" she shouted.
    "I'm sorry, Clara Sue, but there are so many things for me to do right now. I'll have to hang up. Thanks for calling and wishing us good luck," I added, even though she hadn't. Then I cradled the receiver before she could reply, and I sat back, smiling. She was probably fuming so badly there was smoke coming out of her ears, I thought. The image made me laugh and turned a potentially unhappy moment into a jovial one.
    There wasn't much time to sulk over anything anyway. The next day Trisha arrived. We were so glad to see each other, we both nearly burst with happiness. I knew exactly when