Cutler 04 - Midnight Whispers

would cast her as Juliet or Cleopatra immediately," she said and they both laughed.
    "Who's Agnes Morris?" I asked.
    "Our house mother when we were at Sarah Bernhardt," Trisha explained.
    "I'm ready," we heard Jefferson cry. He came running out of his room where Mrs. Boston had helped him dress. In his little blue suit and tie with his hair neatly brushed, he looked adorable.
    "What a handsome young man," Aunt Trisha said. "Would you be my date tonight?"
    "Uh huh," Jefferson said, looking up at her with wide eyes. Everyone laughed and we started for the hotel. My heart was pounding so, I thought I might faint on the stairway. Mammy saw the tension in my face and put her arm around me quickly and kissed me.
    "Everything is going to be wonderful," she promised. "Just enjoy."
    "Thank you, Mommy. I have the best parents a girl could have. Thank you for loving me so much," I said. She smiled, but her eyes were filled with tears.
     
    At night, with the band playing, the lights flashing on the dance floor and the decorations sparkling, the ballroom looked spectacular. At the last minute, so it would be a surprise for me, the staff had hung up an enormous banner that read, HAPPY SWEET SIXTEEN CHRISTIE, WE LOVE YOU in bright pink letters.
    People began flooding in, literally arriving, in droves, so many so fast, I barely greeted one set of guests before I was approached by another and another. The waiters dressed in starched white shirts with bow ties, dark blue vests and slacks, and the waitresses in cute pink blouses and skirts began circulating with trays of the hot and cold hors d'oeuvres that Mr. Nussbaum and his nephew Leon had concocted. On the left two enormous glass punch bowls had been set up for the young people. Down right in a far corner was a bar for the adults.
    Uncle Philip, Aunt Bet and the twins arrived soon after we did. Richard wore a dark blue suit and tie and Melanie wore a dress the same shade of dark blue with sleeves that reached to her elbows. After they greeted us, Uncle Philip lingered by Mommy and me. He raked his eyes over me, nodding with approval.
    "I don't know who's more beautiful tonight," he said, swinging his eyes from me to Mommy and then back to me, "you or your mother. Actually," he added quickly, before either of us could claim the other was prettier, "Christie is like a small flawless diamond and you, Dawn, are the royal jewel."
    "Thank you, Philip," Mommy said quickly and turned her attention to the arrival of Bronson and Grandmother Laura. "Oh, Mother's arrived."
    "You greet her first," Philip said, a wry smile cocking his lips. "I hate it when she calls me Randolph and Bronson's standing right beside her." Mommy nodded and took my hand so I would follow. I glanced at Uncle Philip who continued to linger and gape at us, and then I hurried alongside Mommy to the door. Grandmother Laura had had her hair washed and styled. Lately, because of terrible arthritis in her hips, she had taken to a wheelchair. She looked like the dowager queen, bedecked in her sable fur stole. She wore one of her prettiest gowns and her thick diamond necklace and matching earrings with a diamond tiara. Although she appeared to enjoy being brought here, in her eyes was a look of confusion.
    Caring for Grandmother Laura had taken its toll on Bronson Alcott. Although he was still a tall, sleek-figured man, his shoulders slumped a little more each time I saw him. His Clark Gable mustache had filled with gray, as had his chestnut brown hair. However, he was still quite handsome and distinguished looking. I liked his soft-spoken, kindly manner. No one reminded me of what a rich Southern aristocrat should be like more than Bronson did. I couldn't help admiring him for the patience and love he bestowed on Grandmother Laura, who, according to Mommy, was still quite spoiled, despite her periodic losses of memory.
    "Mother, you look lovely," Mommy said as she leaned over to hug and kiss her. Grandmother Laura looked pleased and then lifted her eyes toward me.
    "Happy birthday, dear," she said. How wonderful, I thought. She remembered and knows. "Bronson, give Clara her present," she said and my heart did flip-flops. Mommy flashed me a conspiratorial look and Bronson winked. I nodded.
    "Thank you, Grandmother," I said and hugged and kissed her, too. My nose filled with the scent of her heavy perfume. It seemed like she had taken a bath in it
    "Wheel me, wheel me," Grandmother Laura commanded, waving her hand. "There are