Midnight Whispers (Cutler 4)

"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, smiling in the mirror. "Too bad Grandmother Laura isn't well enough to be here with us. She would be parading up and down behind us like a coach, telling us what shades of lipstick and makeup to wear, what earrings, how to wear our hair."

"I want to look like you, Mommy," I said. "Natural, simple, myself. I don't want to put on tons and tons of makeup and impress people with pounds of jewelry."

She laughed.

"Nevertheless," she said, "there are a few things we can do with our looks—fix our eyebrows, a little rouge, the most complimentary shade of lipstick, and perfume." She squirted a drop of her favorite scent down my cleavage and under the towel I had wrapped around me. We both laughed loudly, loudly enough to bring Daddy to our doorway.

"I thought I had wandered into the dorm at some college," he declared, smiling.

"Never mind, James Gary Longchamp, just be sure you put on your tuxedo like you promised. You should be flattered, Christie," Mommy added, "he's doing it only because it's for you. I can't get him to wear a tie otherwise."

"Why a woman can be as comfortable as she wants and a man has to wear a monkey suit is beyond me," Daddy complained. "But," he said quickly when Mommy scowled, "I'm doing it, gladly doing it." He backed out, his hands up.

When he was gone, Mommy's face softened, her glowing eyes and radiant complexion betraying a love that still loomed larger than life.

"Men are babies," she said. "Remember that. Even the strongest and toughest are more sensitive than they care to admit."

"I know. Gavin's like that," I said.

She stared at me a moment, that angelic smile on her lips.

"You like Gavin very much, don't you?" she asked.

"Yes," I said tentatively. She nodded as if con-firming a suspicion.

"Don't you like him, too, Mommy?"

"Oh yes. He's a very sensitive and polite young man, but you have a long time to go before you fall in love with anyone," she said. "You will have dozens of boyfriends."

"You didn't," I said quickly. "Are you sorry you didn't?"

She thought a moment.

"Sometimes," she confessed. "I wouldn't trade Jimmy for anyone, but I wish I'd had a normal childhood and gone to lots of dances and on dates and . . ."

"You had no boyfriend when you went to high school and didn't go on dates?" I asked. Her dreamy look instantly faded.