Cutler 04 - Midnight Whispers

vulture of love, he sensed that," she added bitterly.
    "And no one knew?" I asked intrigued with the mystery. Despite Mommy's hardships afterward, the adventure of such a romance fascinated me.
    "We had to keep everything a secret. He was a teacher and I was his student. Grandmother Cutler had her spies, just hoping to find some reason to hurt me. I even lied to Aunt Trisha until I could lie no longer," she said. "I was pregnant with you."
    "What did he do when you told him?"
    "Oh," she said, brushing her hair again, "he made new promises. We would get married and have a mother's helper and travel. I would still be a musical star." She paused and smirked. "As long as I continued to keep everything a secret so he could safely finish his tenure at the school.
    "Then," she added, gazing into the mirror with her eyes so narrow and cold, it was as if she could see him there, "he simply sneaked off. Trisha came home one afternoon, full of excitement because Michael Sutton had abruptly ended his teaching career, supposedly because he was called off to London to star in a new production.
    "All lies," she added, shaking her head. "He had deserted me."
    "How horrible," I said, my heart pounding. I wondered what I would have done in such a predicament.
    "I couldn't confide in my mother and I knew Grandmother Cutler would gloat at my disaster. I went mad, wandered the city streets in the midst of a snowstorm and was hit by a car. Luckily, it wasn't a serious injury, but it ended all the lies; only afterward, I was left even more vulnerable than before and completely at the mercy of Grandmother Cutler, who moved swiftly to have me transferred into the hands of her witch sister Emily back at their family plantation, The Meadows.
    "The rest of it is too awful to tell," she concluded.
    "I was born there?" I asked.
    "Yes, and stolen away from me. But Jimmy arrived and thank God, we were able to get you back," she said, her eyes so filled with warmth and love that I felt that finding me was the best thing that had ever happened to her. "There now," she added, kissing me on the cheek. "You've made me tell you all of our sad history on your special birthday."
    "But you haven't told me all of it, Mommy. And you promised," I cried.
    "Oh Christie, what else must I tell you?" she asked, the corners of her mouth drooping.
    "Once my father came here, right?"
    "Not here," she said. "He called from Virginia Beach. He begged me to bring you to see him, claiming that was all he wanted—to set eyes on his daughter. What he really wanted was to blackmail me and get some money, but my attorney frightened him off.
    "To tell you the truth, I felt sorry for him. He was a shadow of the man he had been. Alcohol and wild living had taken its toll both on him and his career."
    "Mommy," I said, bursting with a memory, "that old locket I have buried in my box of jewelry . . ." I opened the box and sifted through until I found it and took it out. She nodded. "It was my father who gave this to me, then?" She nodded again.
    "Yes, that's all he ever gave you," she said.
    "I can't remember him . . . there's just a picture of some sad face . . . dark, melancholy eyes . . ."
    "It was just an act to get my sympathy," she said coldly.
    "You hate him then?" I asked.
    She turned and gazed at herself in the mirror for a long moment before replying.
    "Not anymore, I suppose. In my mind he is some sort of ghost, the spirit of deceit, perhaps, but also, the ghost of a young girl's fancy, the ghost of her dream lover, the impossible dream lover. It's what happens when we make our frogs into princes," she said. She turned to me abruptly. "Be careful of that, Christie. Now that you have become a beautiful young lady, you will find yourself very popular. I never had a mother to warn me, but I fear that even if I had, I would still have fallen prey to the charm and the smiles and the promises.
    "Be smarter than I was. Don't be afraid to love someone with all your heart, but don't give your heart freely: A little skepticism is a good thing, a necessary thing, and if a man really loves you, truly loves you, he will understand your fears and your hesitation and never try to move too quickly. Do you know what I mean?" she asked.
    "Yes, Mommy," I said. Even though Mommy and I had never really had a heart-to-heart about sex, I knew she was talking about going too far with sex as she had.
    She kissed me again and squeezed my arm gently.
    "Now let's see, where were we?" she said,