Midnight Whispers (Cutler 4)

"I don't know," I said. "I don't care."

"Well you should care. It's yours. You can't let your uncle take it all. I'm sure there are legal documents. Sure. You can go back and in a few years, you'll get your share of the hotel and property and . . ."

"I don't care about the hotel. I can't go back," I said vehemently. I wished I could tell him everything, but it was like talking to a complete stranger and I couldn't get myself to describe what Uncle Philip had done to me.

"Well, you can't live here, honey. I don't have the room for you and besides, I don't have any right to take custody of your little brother there. You could get separated from him," he added.

"Separated?" Jefferson's hand found mine quickly. "No, we'll n

ever be separated," I said firmly.

"And you shouldn't be. That's why you have to go back. After a few years, when you're eighteen, or when you've gotten your inheritance, you'll call me and I'll come out," he said, smiling. "Sure. We'll have a real father-daughter relationship then, okay?"

I said nothing. Disappointment put tears in my eyes.

"Coffee's ready," the woman said, standing in the doorway. "I'm not serving," she added, fixing her eyes on me. "So come get your own cups."

"I don't want any coffee," I said.

"I need a cup," my father announced. "Maybe we got some milk and cookies. look." He stood up. "You sing too?" he asked.

"No. I play the piano," I said.

"Great. Before you go, you can give us a little recital. That would be nice, right, Catherine?" She smirked.

"We got to go to Mr. Ruderman, don't forget."

"Oh yeah. I got a little problem with the IRS and have to see my accountant today. Nothing serious," he said, then added, "I hope. Let me get some coffee." He went into the kitchen. Jefferson and I could hear him and Catherine whispering.

"I don't like it here," Jefferson said.

"No, neither do I," I replied. My heart felt so heavy I thought it would drop into my stomach. What had I been thinking to come here? I wondered. How desperate I had been. And now all I had left was twenty-three dollars.

"Come on, Jefferson," I said standing.

"Where are we going now?"

"We'll go someplace to get something good to eat and think, okay?"

"Okay," he said and took hold of his suitcase quickly.

"Hey," my father said, coming to the kitchen doorway. "Where are you two going?"

"I think you're right," I said. "We're going back."

"Sure. That's the smartest thing. Put in your time, get your inheritance first. You have your return ticket, right?" he asked hopefully. I nodded even though I didn't.

"Wait a minute," he said, digging into his pocket. "Take this for extra spending money." He handed me a five-dollar bill.

"I thought that's all the cash you had on you," Catherine said, coming up behind him quickly. "How are we supposed to get uptown?"

"Relax. We'll take the subway," he replied.

"Subway!" She grimaced.

"Good-bye," I said quickly and reached for the doorknob. Jefferson shot out as soon as I opened the door. I looked back once. My father stood there, smiling. It wasn't until I had closed the door and had gone down the stairs and back onto the street that I realized he hadn't kissed me hello or goodbye.

It was as if we had never met.