Cutler 03 - Twilight's Child

had heard her outburst and stopped to listen.
    "Ever since they brought you back, this family's been falling apart piece by piece. Then they gave you control of our hotel, and my father became nothing . . . nothing! " she screamed, her eyes blazing and wide.
    "That's not true, Clara Sue," I began. "Randolph was suffering long before—"
    She shoved her face closer to mine and narrowed her eyes to sinister slots as she continued to lash out.
    "Don't you tell me about my father. You have everyone else fooled, but not me," she spat. "You caused trouble for all of us and made my grandmother sick to death. Now you've done the same thing to my father."
    "That's not fair, Clara Sue, and this is not the time or the place to—"
    "Clara Sue, you're behaving like a fool," Jimmy said. "He's right, Clara Sue," Philip added. "You're acting like a spoiled brat."
    Clara Sue laughed, a wild, thin, hysterical laugh that carried over the heads of the nearby mourners, who widened their eyes in shock and surprise.
    "Of course you two would take her side. You're both in love with her," she accused. The crowd of onlookers drew closer, their murmuring growing louder.
    Philip's face reddened, and he drew his shoulders up as if he had been sharply slapped in the face.
    "Shut your mouth," he commanded, and he stepped toward her threateningly, his hands clenched. Clara Sue stood firmly in place, not budging an inch, challenging him with her wry smile. I felt certain he was about to strike her, and all this at the foot of their father's freshly dug grave.
    "Oh, Clara Sue," I heard Mother cry. I turned to see her swoon and faint into Bronson Alcott's waiting arms. Philip turned to go to her, too, and Clara Sue stepped forward toward me.
    "Now look what you've done," she sneered.
    "I've done?"
    "Well, I won't rest until I've driven you out of here," Clara Sue continued, not in the least concerned about Mother. Those who had remained behind were gathered around as Bronson fanned her with his handkerchief.
    "I'll hire lawyers; I'll find a way to get rid of you," Clara Sue promised hatefully.
    "Do what you want," I said. "You have no respect for anything or anyone but yourself, and you are a disgrace to your father's memory," I added, turning to join the others around Mother. She still had not regained consciousness.
    Bronson Alcott finally lifted her in his arms and began to carry her from the cemetery. People stepped aside and gaped in astonishment. Word of Clara Sue's outburst and vicious attack on me was spreading with electric speed through the throng of mourners, and all eyes were on us as we followed Bronson down the path and through the arch to the hotel limousine. Julius opened the door for him, and he carefully slipped Mother into the rear seat.
    Mother's eyes began to flutter. They opened and closed, opened and closed.
    "You'd better get her back to the hotel quickly," Bronson whispered. "I'll be right behind."
    "Yes, thank you," I said. Jimmy, Philip and I got back into the limousine with Mother. Philip patted her hand, and to me, he looked just like Randolph used to look whenever he comforted her. She opened her eyes slowly and tried to smile.
    "I'm all right," she muttered. "But is it over . . . is it finally all over?"
    "It's over, Mother," Philip said. Mother smiled and closed her eyes again.
    Bronson Alcott was already waiting when we reached the hotel. Philip and Jimmy helped Mother out of the limousine, but Bronson took her from them immediately, and she accepted his support. She was able to walk, leaning on his shoulder. Staff members stepped aside and watched as we all entered the hotel. At the far end of the lobby Mrs. Boston came forward to take Mother from Bronson Alcott. Mother turned and smiled appreciatively up at him, her eyes filled with more than mere thanks, I thought. Then Mrs. Boston led her into the family section and helped her up the stairs and into her suite.
    "I'm sorry about the things Clara Sue said," Philip told Jimmy and me before we parted. "She's become a real problem for everyone, but I won't let her bother you."
    "Maybe she just doesn't know how to handle her grief," I replied. "I don't want to think about it right now. I'm very tired myself," I said, "and I want to freshen up and rest before we have to greet people."
    Jimmy and I went up to our suite and changed out of our mourning clothes. Later in the day the family's closest acquaintances, as well as others who wanted to pay their respects, arrived.