Twilight's Child (Cutler 3)

"That's not fair, Fern," I said softly. "We lived in different times, under entirely different circumstances."

"I think you owe us an apology," Jimmy said. "I really do."

She looked down, her shoulders sagging.

"I'm sorry," she muttered. "May I go upstairs now?"

"You're not finished with your dinner," Jimmy said.

"I'm not hungry anymore."

"Fern, it's better that you listen to us this time. We're just trying to do the right things for you," I said.

"Okay," she said, wiping her cheeks with the napkin. "I just want to go upstairs and read."

"Go on, then," Jimmy said.

As soon as she left the room Christie turned to me. "What's the matter with Aunt Fern?" she asked.

"She's growing up too fast," I said. Christie looked at me quizzically.

"Am I growing up too fast, Momma?" she asked.

"I hope not, sweetheart. I really hope not," I said. It brought a smile back to Jimmy's face, but he couldn't help turning toward the door and looking after Fern, worry drawing dark shadows around his eyes. I reached across the table and touched his hand. "I'll speak to her, Jimmy," I promised.

Afterward I went upstairs and knocked softly on her door. "Come in," she said. She was curled up on her bed, reading a library book.

"Fern," I began, "I think maybe you and I ought to have a heart-to-heart talk."

"You mean talk about sex?" she said, turning the corners of her mouth down.

"Yes. Apparently you are growing up very fast. Did Leslie ever sit down and discuss it with you?"

She laughed.

"Hardly," she said. Then she leaned toward me and said in a whisper, "I don't think she and Clayton even do anything together anymore. They have separate bedrooms, you know," she said, sitting back.

"That," she added, "is probably why he did what he did to me."

I was astounded. How could a girl this young be so sophisticated when it came to sex? And then I thought, maybe growing up in New York City did it. She was exposed to more and consequently learned faster.

"You seem to know a great deal more than I did when I was your age, Fern," I said. She shrugged. "Where did you learn it all, then, if Leslie didn't talk to you?"

"From friends at school and stuff," she said nonchalantly.

"What's 'stuff' mean?"

"Books and magazines and things. Just stuff," she said. "I see. Well, may I tell you something, some wise things I have learned, then?"

"Sure," she said. She finally looked intrigued, interested in something I had to say.

"Your body is just turning into the body of a young woman. Things are changing in you—"

"I know. I'm getting a bosom. Boys notice, too," she added, pleased with herself.

"It's not just getting a bosom, Fern. Becoming a grown woman involves a lot more. You have different feelings. Suddenly things—things you never expect to happen—happen. You cry for apparently no reason; you long to feel things, touch things, hear and see things that didn't interest you very much before.

"And boys . . . boys can become fascinating. You notice things about them that you've never noticed before, and you want to be around them a lot more.