Cutler 1 - Dawn (28 page)

For a moment I didn't know what to say. My first impulse was to put my arms around him and lavish a million kisses on his face. I wanted to draw his head down against my breast and cuddle it there.

"Oh, Jimmy," I said, my eyes tearing something awful again, "it just isn't fair. All this mix-up. It's not right."

"I know," he said. "But when I learned that you were not really my sister, I couldn't help feeling happy as well as sad. Of course, I was unhappy about your being taken away, but what I was hoping . . . aw, I shouldn't hope," he added quickly and looked away again.

"No, Jimmy. You can hope. What do you hope? Please tell me." He looked down, his face red. "I won't laugh."

"I know you wouldn't laugh, Dawn. You would never laugh at me; I just can't help feeling ashamed thinking it, much less saying it."

"Say it, Jimmy. I want you to say it," I replied in a much more demanding tone. He turned and looked at me, his gaze moving up and down my face as if he wanted to capture me in his mind forever and ever.

"I was hoping that if I ran away and stayed away long enough, you would stop thinking of me as your brother, and someday I would come back and you might think of me as . . . as a boyfriend," he said, all in one breath.

For a moment it was as if the world had stopped on its axis, as if every sound in the universe had died, as if birds were frozen in midair, and cars and people. There was no wind; the ocean became like glass, the waves up and ready to fall, the tide stuck just at the shore. Everything waited on us.

Jimmy had uttered the words that had lingered unspoken in both our hearts for years and years, for our hearts knew the truth long before we did, and kept feeding us feelings we thought were unclean and forbidden.

Could I ever do what he dreamt I would: look into his face and not see him as my brother, not see every touch, every kiss as a sin?

"You can see now why I have to get going," he said sternly and stood up.

"No, Jimmy." I reached out and seized his wrist. "I don't know whether or not I can ever do what you hope, but we're not going to find out if we're apart. We're just going to always wonder and wonder until the wondering becomes too much and we stop caring."

He shook his head.

"I'll never stop caring about you, Dawn," he said with such firmness, it washed away any shred of doubt. "No matter how far away I am or how much time passes. Never."

"Don't run off, Jimmy," I pleaded. I held on to his wrist, and his body finally relaxed. He lowered himself back to the bunk, and we sat there beside each other, neither speaking, me holding his wrist, him staring ahead, his chest lifting and falling with his own excitement.

"My heart's pounding so much," I whispered and lowered my forehead against his shoulder. Now, whenever we touched, it sent a streak of warmth through my body. I felt feverish.

"Mine, too," he said. I brought my palm to his chest and pressed it against his heart to feel the thumping; and then I lifted his hand and brought it to my breast so he could feel mine.

The moment his fingers were pressed to my bosom, he closed his eyes tightly, just like someone in pain.

"Jimmy," I said softly, "I don't know whether I could ever be your girlfriend, but I don't want to wonder forever."

Slowly, almost a millimeter at a time, he turned his face to mine. Our lips were inches apart. It was me who moved toward him first, but then he moved toward me, and we kissed on the lips for the first time as boy and girl might kiss. All our years as brother and sister came raining down around us, threatening to drown us in dark and gloomy guilt, but we held on to each other.

When we parted, he stared at me with a face sculptured in seriousness, not a line creasing softly, his dark eyes searching mine quickly for some sign. I smiled and his body relaxed.

"We haven't been properly introduced," I said.

"Huh'?"

"I'm Dawn Cutler. What's your name?" He shook his head. "Jimmy what?"

"Very funny."

"It isn't funny, Jimmy," I replied. "We are meeting for the first time in a way, aren't we? Maybe, if we pretend”"

"You always want to pretend." He shook his head again.

"Try it, Jimmy. Just try it once. For me. Please." He sighed.

"All right. I’m James Longchamp of the rent weed southern Longchamps, but you can call me Jimmy."

I giggled. "See? It wasn't that hard to do." I lay down on my side and looked up at him. His smile widened, spreading through his face and brightened his eyes.

"You're so crazy, but so special," he said, running his fingers up my arm. He touched my neck, and I closed my eyes. I felt him lean over, and then I felt his lips on my cheek and a moment later pressing against mine again.

His hands moved over my breasts. I moaned and reached up to bring him down to me. All the while as we kissed and caressed, I kept smothering the voice that tried to scream out that this was Jimmy, my brother, Jimmy. If he had similar thoughts about me, they were driven down, too, held underwater by the building passion and excitement as our bodies touched and our hands and arms held us tightly to each other.

I was back on that merry-go-round of emotions, only it was spinning faster than ever, and I was getting so dizzy, I thought I would become unconscious. I never even realized he had unbuttoned my uniform and his fingers had traveled under my bra until I felt the tips slip over my firming nipples. I wanted him to stop, and I wanted him to go on.

I opened my eyes and looked into his face. His eyes were closed; he looked lost in a dream. A smothered groan escaped his lips—more like a moan. As the skirt of my uniform traveled up my thighs, he slipped himself between my legs, and I felt that male part of him grow hard against me. It sent a panic up through my bosom.

"Jimmy!"

He stopped and opened his eyes. Suddenly they were filled with shock as he realized what he had done and what he was doing. He pulled back quickly and turned away. My heart was drumming against my chest, making it hard for me to catch my breath. As soon as I had, I put my hand on his back.

But he pulled away as if my hand were on fire, keeping his back to me.

"It's all right, Jimmy," I said softly. He shook his head.

"I’m sorry."

"It’s all right. I just got frightened. It wasn’t because of who we were to each other. I would have gotten frightened no matter who you were."

He turned and looked at me skeptically.

"Really," I said.

"But you can't stop thinking of me as your brother, can you?" he asked, his anticipation of disappointment making his eyes darker and bringing creases to his forehead.

"I don't know, Jimmy," I said honestly. It looked as though
he
might cry. "it's not something that I can do quickly, but . . . I'd like to try," I added. That pleased him and his smile returned. "Will you stay a little longer?"

"Well," he said, "I do have some pressing engagements with my business associates in Atlanta, but I suppose I could manage a few more days.

"See," said quickly, "pretending isn't so hard for you either."

He laughed and lay back beside me again.

'It's the effect you have on me, Dawn. You always kept the ghosts and doom out of my eyes?' He traced my lip with forefinger and grew serious again. "If only something good could come out of all this . . ."

"Something will, Jimmy. You'll see," I promised.

"I don’t care what your real parents and your grandma say, Dawn has to be your name. You bring sunshine into the darkest places."

We both closed our eyes and started to bring our lips toward each other's again, when suddenly the hideaway door was thrust open and we turned to see Clara Sue standing in the hideaway doorway, her hands on her hips, a gleeful smile of satisfaction on her twisted lips.

14

"Well, Isn’t this a pleasant surprise," Clara Sue purred, sauntering farther in. "I came here expecting to find you with Phillip but instead it’s your . . ." She stared a moment and then smiled. "What should we call him? Brother? Boyfriend?" she laughed. "Maybe both?"

"Shut up," Jimmy snapped, the blood rushing to his face.

"Clara Sue, please," I pleaded. "Jimmy’s had to run away from a terrible foster father. He’s had a horrible time and now he’s on his way to Georgia to live with relatives."

She whipped her eyes to me and flared them with hate. Then she put her hands on her hips.

"Grandmother sent me to find you," she said. "Some kids had a food fight in the coffee shop, and we need all the chambermaids to help clean up." She gazed again at Jimmy, a sly smile returning to her twisted lips. "How long are you going to keep him hidden here? Grandmother would sure be angry if she knew," she said, her threatening note clear.

"I'm leaving," Jimmy said. "You don't have to worry."

"I'm not the one who has to be worried," she sneered.

"Jimmy, don't go yet," I said, pleading with my eyes for him not to leave.

"It's all right," Clara Sue suddenly said in a much softer, kinder tone of voice. "He can stay. I won't tell anyone. It might be fun."

"It's not fun," Jimmy said. "I don't want to get people in trouble on account of me."

"Does Philip know about all this?" Clara Sue demanded.

"He brought him down here," I said, replacing the sneer on her face with a look of indignation. Her hands flew back to her hips.

"Nobody tells me anything," she moaned. "You come and everyone forgets I'm part of the family. You better get inside before Grandmother sends someone else to look for you, too," she warned, her eyes turning cold and hard again.

"Jimmy, you won't run off, will you?" I said. He looked at Clara Sue and then shook his head.

"I'll wait," he said. "As long as she promises not to tell and get you in trouble."

I looked imploringly at Clara Sue. I wanted to tear into her for trying to get me into trouble with the necklace, but I had to keep my tongue glued to the roof of my mouth. In order to protect Jimmy, I had to remain under her thumb.

"I said I wouldn't tell, didn't I?"

"Thank you, Clara Sue." I turned back to Jimmy. "I'll return as soon as I can," I promised and started out. Clara Sue lingered behind me, staring at Jimmy. He ignored her and returned to the bunk.

"Boy, wouldn’t Louise Williams like to know he’s here. She would come right away." She laughed, but Jimmy didn’t look at her or say anything, so she turned and followed me out.

“Please help us Clara Sue,” I pleaded as we walked up the cement stairway. “Jimmy’s had a terrible time living with a cruel man. He hitched rides and didn’t eat for days. He needs to rest up.”

She didn’t say anything for a moment, and then she smiled.

“Luckily Mrs. Clairmont found her necklace,” she said.

“Yes lucky.” There was no love lost between us as we stared hatefully at each other.

“All right, I’ll help you,” she said, her eyes narrowing. “As long as you help me, too.”

“What can I do for you?” I asked, surprised. Mother and Father bought her anything she wanted. She lived upstairs in a warm, cozy suite, and she had a nice job in the hotel and could dress up and be pretty and clean all day.

“I’ll see. You better hurry to the coffee shop before Grandmother blames me for not finding you and demands to know what kept me.”

I started obediently toward the front of the building, feeling like a puppet whose strings were in Clara Sue’s hateful fingers.

“Wait!” she cried. “I know something you can do for me right away.”

I turned back with dread.

“What?”

“Grandmother’s upset about the way I keep my room. She thinks I make too much work for Mrs. Boston and I’m too messy and disorganized. I don’t know why she worries so much about Mrs. Boston. She’s just another of the help around here,” she said, wagging her head. “Anyway, when you’re finished in the coffee shop, go up to my room and straighten it up. I’ll be there later and see how you did.”

“And don’t take anything!” she added smiling. “No necklaces.” She pivoted on her heels as if she were my drill instructor and went in the opposite direction. I felt the heat rise in my neck. How could she make me her personal maid? I wanted to chase after her and pull out her hair, but I gazed toward the hideaway and thought about poor Jimmy. All I would do is create a commotion and drive him away. Frustrated and fuming, I plodded on to help the others clean up the coffee shop.

Clara Sue hadn’t exaggerated. It was a mess with ketchup and french fries, milk and mustard, ice cream and soda all splattered on the walls and tables. I had seen a food fight at a cafeteria in one of the schools Jimmy and I attended, but it didn’t seem as bad a mess as this. Of course, I didn’t have to clean the school mess up, but now I could feel sorry for the custodial staff.

“It’s some of the spoiled rich kids who come here,” Sissy muttered as soon as I arrived and began washing one of the tables. There were pieces of food everywhere. I had to step around puddles of milk and ketchup splashed on the floor. “They thought it was funny, even after it was all over and there was this mess. They run off through the hotel laughing and giggling. Mrs. Cutler was fit to be tied. She says the younger families ain’t what the older ones used to be. The older ones are more classy and wouldn’t have children this bad. That’s what she told us.”

Grandmother appeared in the doorway shortly afterward and watched us work. When we were finished, she and Mr. Stanley inspected the coffee shop to be sure it had been restored properly. I thought I would go up and do Clara Sue's room right away, but Mr. Stanley told Sissy and me to go right to the laundry and help wash and dry linens. That took more than two hours. I worked as hard and as fast as I could, realizing Jimmy was all alone, shut up in the hideaway, waiting for my return. I was afraid he might leave before I arrived.

As soon as we finished in the laundry, I started out to visit him, but Clara Sue caught me going down the corridor toward the exit. She had come looking for me.

"You've got to go right to my room," she demanded urgently. "Grandmother is coming up later this afternoon to see how I fixed it up."

"Well, why can't you do it?"

"I have to entertain the children of some important guests. Besides, you're better at cleaning up. Just do it. Unless you don't want me to help you and Jimmy," she said, smiling.

"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.