Cutler 3 - Twilight's Child (24 page)

Mother staged one of her most elegant dinner parties. Although she had proposed the dinner party as a way to introduce Betty Ann to the family, she decided to invite some of the more prominent citizens of Cutler's Cove as well. I knew we were in for a more elaborate evening when she sent out formal invitations describing the affair as "black tie." She began with a catered cocktail party and had a three-piece band providing the music. It seemed Mother never missed an opportunity to reestablish her social standing in the community.

So when Jimmy and I arrived we were not surprised to see a line of limousines parked along the driveway. It was a warm evening with barely a cloud in the sky, so that the stars were twinkling everywhere, especially over the ocean. The chauffeurs were gathered in a small circle conversing, and Julius went to join them. Bronson greeted us immediately after Livingston had opened the door.

"Your mother is in top form tonight," he informed us. To me it sounded more like a warning. Moments later she pulled herself away from some of her guests in the marble corridor to receive us. She wore a black velvet gown with her usual low-cut neckline. I recognized a dazzling new diamond necklace and matching earrings. She was as radiantly beautiful as ever, her hair styled in an elegant upsweep. Her eyes were full of glitter, borrowing the sparkle from her gems.

"Dawn, darling," she cried, "and James. How nice to see both of you looking so well."

She hugged me to her quickly and then gave Jimmy her hand to kiss.

"I just saw you day before yesterday, Mother," I said dryly. She flashed a smile at some of her guests before responding.

"Was it only two days ago? It seems like ages and ages. Oh, Dawn, Jimmy, you know Mr. Parkins, the president of Seaside Savings," she said as an elderly gentleman passed nearby. He stopped to be introduced. As soon as he left us I seized Mother's hand and pulled her to me.

"Mother, I thought this was supposed to be a simple family gathering to introduce Philip's fiancée and give us a chance to get to know her, and her a chance to get to know us. How do you expect that to happen with all these people here?"

"It was my intention," she said, batting her eyelashes. "But after giving it some more thought, I realized it would be foolish to waste an opportunity to introduce some of our finer citizens to Betty Ann and she to them before the wedding. We'll all have plenty of time to get to know one another . . . lifetimes. Besides," Mother added, "I think we all need some extravagance in our lives these days. It drives away the gloom and doom."

"Where are Philip and Betty Ann?" Jimmy asked, looking around. A waiter came by with a tray of champagne, and Jimmy took a glass for himself and one for me.

"They haven't arrived yet," Mother revealed, leaning in to whisper. "I told them not to come until I was sure all my guests had arrived. It's more dramatic, don't you think?"

"Where do you have them waiting—in the shadows outside?" I asked.

Mother laughed and scooped us both under the arms.

"Come into the living room. I have some more people to introduce you to," she said. I looked at Bronson, who gave me his "I told you so" smile.

A good half hour later Philip and Betty Ann finally arrived. I hadn't seen Philip for quite a while. I thought he had grown to resemble Randolph even more. He looked taller, his face more mature. He had kept himself slim and had his usual tanned, rich look, his debonair smile and his laughing blue eyes. He looked handsome, successful and very rich in his black tux.

I think Philip's handsomeness and buoyant appearance sharpened and emphasized his fiancée's ordinary face. If anything, her mouth was too small and her brown eyes too close. Her pale complexion looked positively sickly beside Philip's tanned skin. She had lackluster brown hair brushed too far back, thus revealing the wideness of her forehead. Her black satin gown did little to enhance her figure, even though it was obviously an expensive designer dress.

With nothing about her looks to recommend her, I wondered what it was that had first attracted Philip to her. I imagined she had a winning personality and must be quite bright. But when we were finally introduced, even those areas seemed deficient.

She followed everything she said with a silly little laugh and pronounced my name "Don" instead of Dawn. I felt like a dentist when we spoke because it was just like pulling teeth to get her to say more than one or two words. She answered every question with a simple "uh-huh" or "no." I thought it was probably because she was distracted and overwhelmed by all the attention.

Mother seized her by the wrist as soon as she could and dragged her around the large room to introduce her formally to each and every guest. When she introduced her, she spoke about her as if she were a prize or something Philip had bought at Tiffany's, and during the descriptions of her father's estates and vacation homes, their yacht and plane, Betty Ann stood with that idiotic smile frozen on her face.

At first I felt sorry for her, but after a while I became amused. Nothing Mother did or said seemed to change or warm Betty Ann. She resembled a life-size doll that could curtsy properly, bat an eyelash on cue, smile as expected and recite the same polite lines. She had perfect posture, took measured steps, sipped her champagne with clockwork regularity and punctuated her sentences and things said to her with nods and laughs. It was as if Philip had laid claim to some human trophy awarded to the outstanding member of a college fraternity in an Ivy League school.

"What do you think of her?" he asked me as soon as we had a private moment together.

"It's too soon to make any judgments, Philip," I responded diplomatically. "But if you love her and she loves you, what other people think shouldn't really matter."

He fixed his eyes on me, his lips trembling into a small smile.

"You're not other people, Dawn. You never will be other people to me," he said. There was pain in his deep blue eyes. I had to look down.

"You know what I mean, Philip."

"Of course," he said, restoring a note of happiness to his voice. "Betty Ann's devoted to me," he said. "She never stops telling me how lucky she is to have me. She's very sweet. And very, very rich," he added.

"I'm happy for you, Philip, if you're happy," I said. His eyes moved to clash with mine.

"Despite what I say, you know anyone I choose will always be second best. And," he added, a wry smile cocking his lips, "whenever I look at her I will see you. But don't worry," he added quickly, "Betty Ann doesn't know. She doesn't know that once upon a time, a hundred years ago, you and I were boyfriend and girlfriend. Oh, she knows your story," he said, "but not that part. That part is locked here," he whispered, patting his heart. "I can't help it. Don't hate me for confessing. Please," he pleaded.

I was unable to respond. He locked his gaze so intently on me, I could feel the passion and desire radiating. Numbly, I shook my head. I was deceived, I thought. It would never end . . . Philip's lust for me would linger forever and ever. Jimmy was so right to want us to have a home separate from the hotel and away from Philip and Betty Ann, but even that, I feared, would not be enough.

Now, when I looked at Betty Ann, I thought I understood what had attracted him to someone so plain. He had deliberately sought a girl who had little to distinguish her physically. It made it easier for him to see me in her eyes and feel my lips instead of her lips when they kissed. Just the thought of it made me tremble.

I was happy when Mother called him away to meet someone else.

"What's wrong?" Jimmy said, approaching. He had been talking with Bronson. "You look upset. Aren't you feeling well?"

"I'm all right," I said. "Just too much champagne."

"Too much champagne would turn your face crimson, not white," he insisted. He gazed across the room at Philip. "Is it something to do with Philip? Did he say something?"

"No, it's nothing, Jimmy. Please. I'm all right," I repeated more emphatically. Jimmy raised his eyebrows. "Philip was talking to me, and I didn't even hear what he said," I lied. "For a moment I just drifted off and felt a little nauseous. It's nothing."

"Nauseous? Maybe . . ." His eyes lit up with hope.

"No, Jimmy," I said. "I'm not pregnant. Remember, I just had my period."

"Oh," he said, disappointed. "Right. Well, if it happens again, you'd better see the doctor," he said.

A little while later we were all called in to dinner. There were twenty guests, and Mother had arranged the seating so that Betty Ann and Philip were at her sides. Consequently, I didn't get to speak to Betty Ann very much. After dinner I finally had a real conversation with her. We stepped out on a patio to get some air. She was more relaxed.

"What a beautiful house and beautiful view," she exclaimed. "And your mother is so beautiful, too. It's hard to believe she has children your age and Philip's."

"Mother will love you for saying that, Betty Ann," I said. She smiled and giggled.

"I'm so excited about living in the hotel," she said. "From the way Philip has described it, there's always something to do, something happening. It's never dull."

"He's right about that."

"And I'm so impressed with what you do. Philip says you haven't even been to college. He's told me so much about you. I know all about how you were kidnapped and returned. Philip's always talking about you," she added, but without any note of envy. "About how talented you are musically and how bright you are."

"He exaggerates, I'm sure," I said, unable to hide my embarrassment.

"Oh, no. Not Philip. He's known for his honesty. Besides, he's always playing that tape recording of you singing, and you do have a beautiful voice."

"Tape recording?" I wondered when Philip had taped me singing. "What am I singing?" I asked. After she told me, I realized Philip had taped me singing for the guests at the hotel one night, and he had never told me. It made me feel funny, as if I had been eavesdropped upon. Why had he kept that a secret?

"He's so proud of you. It's so nice for a brother and a sister to like each other as much as you two like each other, especially when you consider what happened to you," she added.

"Yes." I smiled weakly.

"Someday I hope you will sit down and tell me all about it. Will you? I want to know all the details—what it was like for you before, how you were found, what it was like to return. . ."

"It's not as exciting or interesting a story as you might think," I replied.

"Oh, no, I know it is. Philip always has tears in his eyes when he talks about it . . . especially when he describes that first day you were at the hotel and you and he met for the first time as brother and sister. I cry myself," she confessed.

"Philip's so romantic," she continued. "He's so handsome, and he has a wonderful sense of humor. All my girlfriends are dying with jealousy. And my parents love him—especially my father, because he knows so much about business and investments. I'm so lucky," she said. "Don't you think?" she asked me, and suddenly I felt a great sorrow for her. How horrible it would be for her to know that whenever Philip looked at her lovingly he was looking at me, and whenever he kissed her passionately he was kissing me.

She was being deceived and lied to and used. Philip had found himself an innocent, naive young woman who just happened to fit all the social criteria. She was incapable of seeing or understanding the deception. A handsome, debonair young man—a hero on campus who came from a famous resort family—had chosen her. Her fantasy, her dream had come true.

I wanted so much to say something, to stop her from beginning a life of illusion, but then I thought that even if she knew the truth, she might accept it just so she could have Philip. Obviously, he meant that much to her.

I could almost hear Mother telling me, "Everyone accepts a certain amount of deception and illusion, Dawn. It's the price we pay for what little happiness we can achieve."

It was the way Mother had lived her life; it would be the way Betty Ann and Philip would live theirs. And deny it or run from it as much as I would, I was sure, in the end, it was the way I would live mine as well.

"I'm very happy for you, Betty Ann," I said. "Happy for both of you."

"What are my two favorite women doing out here alone?" Philip cried, coming up behind us. He moved himself between us and embraced both of us at the waist. "Not exchanging notes about me, I hope," he said, eyeing me suspiciously.

"What an ego. Why should we be talking about you?" I asked. Muscles near his lips worked almost spasmodically, hovering near a smirk or a laugh, I couldn't tell which.

"A little bird told me," he said, squeezing us both tighter to him. "That's all right. I want you two to get to know each other as quickly as you can so we can all be a happy little hotel family again."

"I'm looking forward to being of some use at the hotel," Betty Ann said. "I want to contribute, even if it's only in some small way."

"I'm sure we'll find something appropriate for you to do, darling," Philip said. He smiled at me again. "Even if it's just standing by the dining room door greeting our guests as Mother and Grandmother used to do."

"Oh, I'd love to do that," Betty Ann said. Philip gazed down at me and winked.

"I will be a very lucky man to have two beautiful women around me day and night," he said, and he kissed Betty Ann on the cheek and then turned to kiss me. But I pulled out of his grasp.