Twilight's Child (Cutler 3)

"She is, after all, the guest of honor," Mother announced. "And quite a pretty one, if I might say so."

Fern looked as pleased as could be at the comment. Jimmy had asked me to take her to one of the finest department stores in Virginia Beach to buy her a new dress for the occasion. She had chosen an expensive blue velvet with a white lace collar and cuffs. The dress had a sash at the waist with a bow on the hip, too. Actually, it was more of a dress for a girl well into her teens, but with a few adjustments Fern could wear it well. She also talked me into buying her a padded bra, claiming all her new girlfriends at school were wearing them. I gathered that she was hanging around with older children, just as she had when she attended the Marion Lewis School in New York, but I didn't make an issue over it.

Naturally, I had to buy her shoes to match the dress, and when we walked past a jewelry store she eyed a gold-plated necklace and matching teardrop earrings so covetously, I just had to get the set for her. After she hugged me and thanked me profusely, I began to regret what I was doing.

Was I no better than Clayton and Leslie Osborne, trying to buy her affection and love?

I gave her permission to go to our hair salon in the hotel, and our top stylist, Elaine Diana, washed and styled Fern's hair in a much more mature look. Elaine, unbeknownst to me, made up Fern's face for her as well. When Fern emerged from her room, dressed in her new clothing, bedecked in her new jewelry, her hair redone, her cheeks brushed with rouge, her eyelids painted and her lips covered in a bright pink shade, she looked years older than she was. Jimmy stood gaping in astonishment.

"Is this my baby sister?" he cried, and then he drew her into his arms and hugged her. Her dark eyes brightened and shone like onyx. She flashed me one of her self-satisfied looks, and what I saw in her dark eyes startled me. It was as if she had been competing with me for Jimmy's romantic love and had won. She kissed him on the cheek.

"Thank you, Jimmy," she said.

"Don't thank me, honey. Thank Dawn. She's the one who bought you all this," he replied. Fern turned to hug me as well. As she did so, Jimmy beamed and nodded. I knew he thought he was right: Lavishing all this affection and raining down all this love on her was making her a better person.

She couldn't have been more polite or more delightful at Mother's. The Osbornes had taught her well when it came to dining etiquette. She didn't have to be told which fork and spoon to use, and she dazzled Bronson by referring to him as sir. When either he or Mother asked her a question she replied softly, with measured phrases, describing places she had visited, things she had seen, art and theater she had experienced. She sounded as sophisticated and experienced as a girl twice her age. I saw how impressed they were with her and how Jimmy radiated pride.

"What a delightful young lady she is," Mother told me at the end of the evening. "Obviously she's had good training."

I saw immediately that Jimmy didn't appreciate any praise being given to the Osbornes. His face darkened with displeasure.

"She's not a racehorse, Mother," I replied before he could voice his own objections. "She's a little girl. True, she was brought up in a well-to-do home, but believe me, she didn't have a happy life."

"Oh, I know, I know. I'm just delighted to see a child behave nowadays," she said, swinging her eyes from me to Jimmy. She sighed deeply. "Which reminds me," she added, placing her right palm over her heart as if she were close to a faint, "I have news concerning Clara Sue.

"She's living with that truck driver, Skipper, outside of Raleigh, North Carolina. We found out when she phoned to get Bronson to send her some money. She sits in his truck and travels around the country with him. Can you imagine? How she finds these people, I'll never know.

"Oh, what did I do, what did I do," she moaned, "to have that child become such a burden?"

"It's not what you did, Mother," I said, unable to keep the caustic tone out of my voice, "it's what you didn't do."

"Please, Dawn, don't start one of your famous lectures about Clara Sue—not tonight, after we've had such a special time celebrating the return of Jimmy's long-lost sister," she said, spinning around quickly to shine her charm on him.

He thanked her, and then we thanked Bronson and said our good nights. Mother complained that we were leaving too early, but I explained it was a school night. I felt certain Fern hadn't done all her homework. As it turned out, I was wrong: She hadn't done any of it. And for days and days.

Mr. Youngman phoned late the next morning to give me a summary of Fern's activities since we had enrolled her in the Cutler's Cove School.

"All of her teachers here have the same complaints," he explained. "She is erratic. Sometimes she will do her work and do it well, and then she won't do it at all, and for days at a time. She makes up all sorts of excuses. Blatant, obvious fabrications, I'm afraid.

"She has also been insubordinate on two occasions, one serious enough to have the teacher send her to me. I think our problems might be bigger than I first anticipated, Mrs. Longchamp. Tender loving care isn't all she needs right now; she needs some strict discipline as well."

"Thank you for the call, Mr. Youngman," I said. "I'll speak to my husband about it immediately, and we will speak to Fern."

"Thank you, Mrs. Longchamp," he said.

I went to see Jimmy as soon as I could and told him everything Mr. Youngman had said. His eyes shadowed, grew deep, dark, and he shook his head.

"I think he's right, Jimmy. We have to be firmer with her, too."

"I thought she was doing so well," he said.

"That's what she told us, Jimmy," I pointed out. "It's not the truth."

"All right," he said. "We'll speak with her."

That evening he and I had a meeting with Fern in her room. We laid down new rules.

"You are to go right to the house after school," Jimmy said, "and do your homework before you do anything else. When it's finished, bring it to Dawn to check. If it's done all right, you can do what you want in the hotel.