Cutler 03 - Twilight's Child

unable to hold him off.
    And here I was feeling muzzled once again. I was afraid to mention anything to Jimmy, terrified of what he would do if he discovered any of this. In my heart I sensed he had some suspicions that just hadn't found their way into words yet. But someday they would, and when that day came . . . I groaned just imagining the crisis.
    "Dawn?" Jimmy said. "Are you all right?"
    "What? Oh, yes. I just had a bad dream," I said. "What was it about?"
    "I don't want to talk about it. I'm all right. Really," I said.
    He kissed me to reassure me, and then I did finally fall asleep, hoping that somehow I could put these fears to rest.
    But one afternoon late in the week Philip wandered into my office and sat down. When I asked him what he wanted, he said nothing in particular; he just wanted to watch me work for a while. I sat back, unable to hide my annoyance.
    "I don't think well under glass," I said. "Really, Philip, if you have nothing to do, why don't you go visit Mother? She's the one who's on pins and needles these days and could use your company."
    Mother just dreaded the thought of attending Philip's wedding now that she knew for sure that Clara Sue and Charlie would be there. She was positive Clara Sue would do something terrible again, just as she had done at Philip's graduation, and embarrass the family. But despite her reticence, she couldn't help but be intrigued with the gala event. She went out of her way to find the most expensive, and most striking new gown. She had her personal hairdresser experiment with a half dozen different styles until she settled on one. Every day so far during the entire week before the wedding she had had facial treatments. She went on an intensive diet because she thought her waist was a little wide and her arms a little flabby. One day she was in a panic because she thought she saw the beginnings of a double chin. She came to the hotel to have me confirm it wasn't so.
    "Are you kidding?" Philip cried out, laughing at my suggestion. "Mother would simply pile on her complaints and recommendations about the wedding. We would drive each other crazy. No, thank you."
    "Well, I can't work with you just sitting there, Philip," I insisted. He nodded and rose from his seat.
    "Your house is looking beautiful," he said, not with any real enthusiasm.
    "Thank you."
    "Actually, I'm kind of upset about it. Now that Clara Sue's gone and Mother's remarried and you're moving out, everyone will be gone from the family section but me," he complained.
    "You have Betty Ann," I reminded him. "And I'm sure you will be raising a family. You should be happy you have all that privacy."
    "Yes," he said, looking down at the floor. Then he looked up at me and smiled, but it was a queer, shadowy smile.
    "You haven't asked me about it, so I imagine you don't know where we're going for our honeymoon, do you?" he asked.
    "No." I sat back, a ripple of apprehension creeping up my spine. "Where?"
    "The exact same place you and Jimmy went in Province-town on Cape Cod," he replied. "I got the information from Jimmy. I'm surprised he didn't tell you. Or did he?"
    "No," I said, shaking my head. My heart began to thump in my chest. Jimmy hadn't told me because he knew it would upset me, I thought. "Haven't you been to Cape Cod?" I asked.
    "Oh, I have, and so has Betty Ann, dozens of times. Matter of fact," he said, "her parents have a house in Hyannis Port."
    "So why are you going there? Why don't you go someplace neither of you has been so you can see new things?" I asked, afraid of the answer.
    "When you're on a honeymoon," he said, his eyes twinkling, "you don't care about the surroundings, do you? Don't tell me you and Jimmy did a lot of sightseeing," he said, his eyes and his smile full of suggestion.
    "We didn't have time to do much, if you will recall. Randolph had just died," I reminded him sharply.
    "Uh-huh," he said, unflappable. He kept his eyes trained on me, a wry smile cocking his lips. "Is Jimmy a good lover?" he asked.
    "That's not the sort of thing I care to discuss with you, Philip," I replied. My voice took on the steely edge of a razor, but his smile widened.
    "I bet it was hard for you two, continually reminded of yourselves as brother and sister. How did you get over that, or didn't you?" he asked, his head tilted slightly, his eyes narrowing.
    "I said I don't care to discuss it, Philip," I flared. He stared at me a moment and then nodded.
    "Okay," he said. "I'm sorry. I guess I'm