Twilight's Child (Cutler 3)

We stepped back into the sunlight, only to me the day had turned pale gray. It might as well be raining, I thought. Would nothing be easy for me, ever? Mistakes haunted me like ghosts. I had begun to believe that because I was a child born from evil I would be cursed forever. The sins of the fathers do rest on the heads of their children. I couldn't keep my own tears back, and before we had left the portico I was sobbing hysterically. Jimmy embraced me quickly and kissed my cheek.

"Hey, don't cry. Don't worry. This isn't going to be hard," he promised.

"Oh, Jimmy, don't you see that everything's going to be hard? I don't know why you would want to marry me. You're only going to suffer along with me. I'm cursed, cursed!"

"Come on, Dawn. Take it easy. It's not you; it's what that evil old lady did. Well, we'll just see it undone. That guy's stupid and asking for trouble."

"I can't blame these people, Jimmy. He wasn't all wrong. And did you see the expression on that woman's face? She finally got a baby she could call her own, and we're here to take it away," I moaned.

"But you want to, don't you? You want Christie back?" Jimmy asked.

"Yes, of course I do. I just can't stand all this pain and suffering. Why was one old woman given so much power to hurt other people?" I cried.

"I don't know. She did it, and it's over with. Now we've got to make it right. I guess we'll go to the police first," he said.

"No, we had better check into a hotel someplace close by and call Mr. Updike. The police can't help us. Sanford Compton is right—it's going to be a legal battle."

I looked back at the house once, trying to imagine which room Christie was in. I was sure they had bought her the finest crib and the most expensive baby clothes. Just a baby, she didn't know where she was or what had happened to her. She was probably as content as she could possibly be. In a short while I would disturb that contentment; but I had to believe that even an infant as young as Christie would sense her own mother when she was finally placed in my arms, and that would give her a deeper, more complete sense of security and love. Armed with that faith, I hurried off with Jimmy to begin our battle for custody of my own child.

We checked into a small hotel just outside of Richmond. It was a restored old mansion, and the rooms were quiet, large and comfortable, but we were not able to enjoy anything. Our time here was to be filled with waiting for phone calls and preparation for a hearing.

When I phoned Mr. Updike I was surprised at his reaction.

"Maybe it would be wiser just to leave things be," he suggested. "The baby's in a very good home and will be very well taken care of. Sanford Compton is wealthy and powerful in his community."

"I don't care how wealthy he is, Mr. Updike. Christie is my baby, and I want her back," I said sharply. "I thought you had explained it all to the Comptons," I continued, not disguising my annoyance. If he intended to continue as the family's attorney, he would have to satisfy me now that I was the majority owner of the hotel and property.

"I didn't get into the nitty-gritty details with them," he confessed. "I was just trying to protect the Cutler name. You can imagine what a field day the newspaper people would have with such a story, and that might very well reflect on the hotel."

"Mr. Updike," I said, speaking through clenched teeth, "if I don't get Christie back and get her back soon, I will feed the story to the newspapers myself!" I flared.

"I see," he said. "I just want you to understand what will be exposed—your affair with this older man, your pregnancy out of wedlock, your—"

"I know what I've done, and I know what has happened, Mr. Updike. My baby is more important to me than any of that. If you can't help me and help me quickly, I will see another attorney," I said, no longer veiling any threat or anger.

He cleared his throat.

"Oh, I'll help you. I just wanted you to understand all the aspects of this," he quickly explained.

"What do we do next?" I demanded.

"Well, I know some people there. I'll get right on it. Maybe we can settle this in a closed hearing in front of a judge with just the attorneys and parties present. I'll work toward that, and hopefully—"

"Then Jimmy and I will remain here and await your making the arrangements quickly," I emphasized.

"Okay. I'll call you. Where are you?"

I gave him the place and the number and repeated my desire to have the problem solved as quickly as possible. He promised to get right on it.

The day after I had first phoned Mr. Updike he finally called to say he had managed to get the Comptons and their attorney to agree to a hearing in front of a Supreme Court judge, Judge Powell, who was both a friend of the Comptons and an acquaintance of Mr. Updike.

"If Mr. Compton is so powerful around here and this judge is his friend, will he be fair?" I asked with concern.

"Well, this is sort of an off-the-record hearing, a favor the judge is doing for both of us," Mr. Updike explained. "We can always turn to formal legal remedies afterward if we're not satisfied with the outcome. The Comptons aren't happy about the prospect of a public hearing either."

He gave me the address and time to be at the judge's chambers and told us he would meet us there an hour earlier. It was an afternoon meeting. I was so nervous about it, I couldn't eat a thing for lunch.

"It's going to be okay," Jimmy continued to assure me. "Once everyone understands the truth of what happened, it will be settled simply and quickly."