Dawn (30 page)

"Jimmy needs something for lunch!" I cried. "I won't leave him without food all day."

"Don't worry. I'll see that he gets it," she said.

"You have to be careful no one sees you sneak food to him," I warned.

"I think I'm better at being careful than you are, Eugenia," she commented and walked off laughing.

Grandmother Cutler was right about one thing—Clara Sue was a slob. Her clothing was scattered all about—panties and bras draped over chairs, shoes under the bed and in front of the closet instead of inside it, skirts and blouses on the floor, blouses hanging on the headboard and on the back of the vanity table chair. And the vanity table! Makeup and creams were left open. There were streaks of cream and powder over the table. Even the mirror was spotted.

Her bed was unmade and covered with fashion and fan magazines. I found an earring under the bedspread and searched everywhere in vain for its mate. She had her jewelry strewn about, some of it on her desk, some on her vanity and some on top of her dresser.

All the dresser drawers were open and some had panties and stockings leaking out. When I started putting things into the drawers, I saw they were all mixed up―stockings with panties, T-shirts with stockings. I shook my head. There was so much to do. No wonder Grandmother Cutler was angry.

And when I opened the closet door! Clothing hadn’t been properly hung, so skirts and pants, blouses and jackets were half on and half off the hangers, some of the clothing fallen to the floor in heaps. Clara Sue had no respect for her possessions. I thought. It all came too easily.

It took me more than two more hours to do up her room, but when I finished, it was clean, organized and spotless. I was exhausted, but I headed out quickly and snuck around the back of the hotel to see Jimmy.

When I entered the hideaway, however, he wasn’t there. The bathroom door was open, so I could see he wasn’t in it. He had gotten disgusted waiting for me. I flopped down on the bunk bed. Jimmy was gone; perhaps I would never see him or hear from him again. I couldn’t keep the tears from rushing out―all my frustrations, fatigue, and unhappiness ganged up on me. I cried hysterically, my shoulders heaving, my chest aching. The dark, damp room closed in on me as I bawled. All our lives we were trapped in small, run-down places. I didn't blame Jimmy for fleeing from this one. I made up my mind I wouldn't come here again.

Finally, exhausted from crying, I stood up and wiped my tear-streaked cheeks with the back of my hands, which were dusty and dirty from all the cleaning I had done. Head bowed, I started for the door, but just before I reached it, Jimmy came in.

"Jimmy! Where were you? I thought you had run off for Georgia without saying good-bye!" I cried.

"Dawn, you should have known I wouldn't do that to you."

"Well, where were you? You could have been seen and . . ." There was a strange look in his eyes. "What happened?"

"Actually, I was running away," he said, lowering his head with a look of embarrassment. "I was running away from Clara Sue."

"What?" I followed him to the bunk bed. "What did she do? What happened?"

"She came down with some lunch for me and stayed while I ate, talking nonsense to me about Louise and the other girls and asking me all sorts of nasty questions about you and me and how we lived together. I got angrier and angrier, but I kept my temper down because I didn't want her to make any more trouble for you.

"Then . . ." He shifted his eyes from me and sat down.

"What then?" I asked sitting beside him.

"She got cute."

"What do you mean, Jimmy?" My heart started to race.

"She wanted me to . . . kiss her and stuff. I finally told her I had to get out for a while and ran out. I hid out by the baseball field until I was sure she would he gone and then I snuck back. Don't worry. No one saw me or paid any attention to me."

"Oh, Jimmy."

"It's all right," hit said, "but I think I'd better go before she does make things worse."

I looked down, my tears building again.

"Hey," he said, reaching out to lift my chin. “I don't remember you ever being this unhappy."

"I can't help it, Jimmy. After you go, I’m going to feel so terrible. When I first came in here and I thought you had left―"

"I can see." He laughed and got up to go into the bathroom. He ran the water over a washcloth and returned to clean my cheeks. I smiled at him and he leaned forward to plant a soft kiss on my lips. “All right," he said, "I'll stay one more night and leave sometime tomorrow."

“I’m glad Jimmy. I’ll sneak back and eat dinner with you," I said excitedly, "and later I'll come and . . . stay with you all night. No one will know,” I quickly added when he took on a look of worry„

He nodded.

"Be careful. I feel like I'm making so much trouble for you, and you’ve got more than your share because of us Longchamps."

"Don't ever say that, Jimmy. I know I'm supposed to be happier here because I'm a Cutler and my family's well off, but I'm not and I’ll never stop loving you and Fern. Never. I don't care. I’ll never stop," I insisted. Jimmy had to laugh.

"All right," he said. "Don't stop."

"I'm going to go get washed and changed and show my face about the hotel, so no one suspects anything," I said. "I'll eat with the staff, but I won't eat much. I'll save my appetite to eat with you." I stood up and looked down at him. "Are you going to be all right?"

"Me? Sure. It gets a little stuffy in here, but keep that door partly open. And later, after it gets good and dark, I might sneak over to that big pool and jump in."

"I'll jump in with you," I said. I headed for the door and turned back just as I reached it. "I'm glad you came, Jimmy, so glad."

He beamed the widest, brightest smile at me, which wiped away all the frustration and fatigue I had to suffer to keep him here. Then I hurried out and away, cheered by the promise of once again spending a night with Jimmy. But as soon as I entered the old section of the hotel, I heard my grandmother and Mrs. Boston talking in the corridor. They had just come down from upstairs where they had inspected Clara Sue's room. I stood just outside the doorway and waited until I saw Grandmother walk by, her face so firm, it looked like a chiseled bust of her. How straight she stood, I thought, her posture so perfect when she walked. She radiated so much confidence and authority, I was sure not even a fly would cross her path.

As soon as she passed, I reentered and started down the corridor, but just as I went by the sitting room, Mrs. Boston stuck her head out and called to me.

"Now, you tell me the truth," she said as I approached. She lifted her eyes toward the family suites above. "It was you who cleaned and fixed up Miss Clara Sue's room, right?"

I hesitated. Would she get me into more trouble now?

"She never did nothing that good, not that child."

Mrs. Boston folded her arms under her bosom and peered at me suspiciously. "Now, what she give you to get you to do that, or what she promise you, huh?"

"Nothing. I just did her a favor," I said, but shifted my eyes too quickly. I was never a very good liar and hated trying.

"Whatever it is she promised you, you shouldn’t have done it. She's always getting someone to do things for her. Mrs. Cutler is trying to get her more responsibility for herself. That's why she ordered her to fix up her room before dinner."

"She told me Grandmother Cutler was mad because she was leaving too much for you to do."

"Well, goodness knows, that's true, too. That makes enough of a mess for two of me. Almost from the day she was born," she said.

"Mrs. Boston, you were here when I was stolen away, right?" I asked quickly.

Her eyes grew smaller, and there was a tremble in her lips.

"Yes."

"Did you know the woman who had been my nurse for that short time ... Nurse Dalton?"

"I knew her before and knew her after. She's still living, but she needs a nurse herself these days."

"Why's that?"

"She's an invalid, suffering from diabetes. She’s with her daughter just outside of Cutler's Cove." She paused and looked at me askance. "Why are you asking questions? There's no sense dragging up bad times.”

"But how could my daddy . . . I mean Mr. Longchamp steal me right out from under my nurse’s nose? Don't you remember the details?" I pursued.

"I don't remember no details. And I don't like bringing up bad times. It happened; it's over and done. Now I got to get going and finish up my work." She started away.

Puzzled by the way she reacted to my questions, I stood there and watched her walk off.

How could she forget the details of my kidnapping? If she once knew and still knew Nurse Dalton, she surely knew the way it had happened. Why was she so nervous when I asked her questions? I wondered.

If anything, it made me want to pursue the answers even harder.

I hurried on to get out of my dirty uniform and clean up. I wanted to take a long, hot shower and wash my hair so it smelled fresh and clean for Jimmy. I'd choose one of the nicer outfits from Clara Sue's hand-me-downs and brush out my hair so it shone the way it used to before all this happened. This could be the last night Jimmy and I spent together for years, I thought. What I wanted to do was bring back happier memories, help him to recall the times when we were all cheerful and hopeful. I needed to bring back the memories as much for myself as for him.

As soon as I got into my room, I stripped off my uniform and tossed it in the corner. I took off my underthings and my shoes and socks. Then I wrapped a towel around my body and went to the little bathroom.

. It always took a few minutes to get the water hot, so I turned it on and stood back to wait when all of a sudden the bathroom door was thrust open behind me.

I gasped and quickly scooped up the towel to wrap around myself again. Philip, smiling coyly, eyes big and bright, stepped in and closed the door behind me.

"Philip, what are you doing? I'm taking a shower!" I cried.

"So? Go ahead. I don't mind." He folded his arms across his chest and leaned back against the door provocatively.

"You get out of here, Philip, before someone comes along and hears you in here."

"No one's coming along," he said calmly. "Grandmother's busy with guests; Father's in his office, Clara Sue's with her friends, and Mother . . . Mother is debating whether or not she is well enough tonight to come to the dining room. We're safe," he said, smiling again.

"We're not safe. I don't want you in here. Please . . . go," I begged.

He continued to gaze at me, his eyes moving from my feet to my head, drinking me in with pleasure. I tightened the towel around my body, but it was too small to be an adequate covering. When I brought it higher to cover my breasts, it came up too far on my thighs, and when I lowered it, most of my bosom was revealed.

Philip's tongue moved across his lips as if he had just finished eating something delicious. Then he grinned wickedly and took a step toward me. I backed up until I was against the wall.

"What are you doing, getting all cleaned and dressed for Jimmy?"

"I'm . . . getting ready for dinner. I did a lot of work today, and I'm not very clean. So go. Please."

"You're clean enough for me," he said. I cringed as he drew closer. In a moment he had me pinioned in his arms, with his palms flat against the wall to prevent my escape. His lips brushed my cheek.

"Philip, are you forgetting who we are now and what has happened?"

"I'm not forgetting anything, especially," he said kissing my forehead and moving his lips toward mine, "our night under the stars when we were interrupted by my idiot friends. I was about to teach you things, things you should know by your age. I’m a very good teacher, you know. You'll be grateful and you don't want to learn these things from just anybody, do you?" He dropped his right hand to my shoulder.

"You've had a taste of what it's like," he said softly, his eyes fixed on me. "How can you not want more?'

"Philip, you can't. We can't. Please."

"We can as long as we know when to stop, and I promise I know that. I keep my promises, too. I'm keeping my promise to help you: with Jimmy, aren’t I?" he said, raising his eyebrows to drive home his point.

Oh, no, I thought. Not Philip, too. Both he and Clara Sue were taking advantage of Jimmy's troubles to get me to do things.

"Philip, please," I pleaded. "This doesn't feel right anymore. I can't help it. I'm just as sorry as you are that it's turned out this way, believe me; but there nothing we can do about it but accept it."'

"I accept it. I accept it as another challenge,” he said, slipping his hand farther down to run his fingers along the top of my towel. I clutched it desperately.

"But it’s not fair," he said, his face suddenly turning dark and angry. "You knew how much I want to touch you and hold you, and you led me to believe it would happen."

"But it's not my fault,"

"It's nobody's fault . . . or maybe it's your other father's fault, but who cares right now? As I said," he continued, working his forefinger in and under the top of my towel, "we don't have to go as far as ordinary, unrelated men and women do. It won't mean anything then, but I had promised you I would show you—"

"I don't need to be shown."

"But I do," he said, forcing the towel down against my inadequate grip. I tried twisting away, but that only helped him get a better grip and the towel slipped of my breasts. His eyes widened with appreciation.

"Philip, stop!" I screamed. He gripped the inside of my elbows, pinning my arms back.

"If anyone hears you, we'll all get into trouble," he warned, "you, me, and Jimmy especially." He brought his lips to my nipples, moving quickly from one to the other and then back again.

I closed my eyes to try to deny this was happening. Once I had dreamt of him holding me and loving me, but this was twisted and harsh. My poor confused body responded to his caresses—stirred in places it had not been stirred before, but my mind screamed
No!
I felt like someone sinking into warm, soothing quicksand. For a few seconds it felt good, but it promised only trouble.

I continued to twist and squirm under his pincerlike fingers. The tip of his tongue drew a line from one breast to another and then he began to lower his body, kissing his way down my stomach until he reached the towel that was barely around my waist. I held it in the tip of my fingers. He bit the towel and tugged at it like a mad dog.

"Philip, stop, please," I pleaded.

With one strong pull, he drew the towel away from my body and dropped it at my feet. Then he gazed up at me, his eyes mad with desire. The glint in them was enough to set my heart racing even faster and pounding even harder than it already was.

Unable to get around him because he trapped against the wall, I brought my hands to my face as soon as he released my arms to embrace my thighs and draw them to his face. I felt my legs crumble and slid down the wall to the floor, my face covered.

"Dawn," said, his breathing heavy and hard. “It feels so good holding you. We don't have think about anything else."

All I could do was cry as his hands moved over my body, exploring, caressing.

"Doesn't this feel good? Aren't you happy?” he whispered. I took my hands off my face when he took his hands from me and started unbuttoning his jeans.