Cutler 1 - Dawn

by V. C. Andrews

  My fingers touched the ivory and began to move over the keyboard as though they had a mind of their own. I felt the notes flow from the piano up my arm, the music circling about me protectively, creating a cocoon of security. Nothing could touch me, not jealous eyes or ridiculing laughter. Resentment, bitterness, derogatory words of any kind were forgotten for the moment. I even forgot Philip was standing nearby. When I was finished, it was a letdown. The music lingered like a shadow calling to me to go on. My fingers tingled and hovered over the keys, my eyes remained closed.

  I opened them at the sound of the ovation. Father had come into the doorway to clap, and Philip applauded beside me. I heard my mother's gentle applause, too, and Clara Sue's quick salvo.

  "Wonderful," my father said. "I'll speak to Mother. Maybe we'll have you play for the guests."

  "Oh, I couldn't."

  "Sure you could. What do you think, Laura Sue?" he called.

  "It was beautiful. Dawn!" she cried. I got up. Philip was beaming, his eyes dancing with happiness. I returned to my mother's bedroom, and she surprised me by holding her arms out. I approached her and let her embrace me. She kissed me softly on the cheek, and when I pulled back, I saw tears in her eyes, but there was something in the way she gazed at me that made me tremble and hesitate. I sensed she saw something else in me, something I did not know existed. She was looking at me, but not exactly at me.

  I questioned her with my eyes, searching her face for understanding. Now that I was this close to her, I saw how tiny her eyelashes were, how diminutive were her facial features, features I had inherited. Her eyes were dazzling, I thought, unable to take my gaze from the soft blue that twinkled with mystery as well as jeweled beauty. I spotted some faint freckles under them, just where mine were. Her skin was so translucent, I could see the tiny blue veins at the corners of her eyes, mapped out along her temples.

  How delightfully sweet she smiled—her hair filled with the fragrance of jasmine. And how silky and soft her cheek had felt against mine. No wonder my father loved her so, I thought. Despite her nervous condition, she maintained a healthy, vibrant appearance, and she was as precious and lovely as any woman could be.

  "That was so beautiful," she repeated. "You must come up often and play for me. Will you?"

  I nodded and then glanced at Clara Sue. Her face was red and swollen with envy, her eyes burning, her mouth firm, her lips so taut they caused little patches of whiteness to appear in the corners. She clenched her fingers into puffy little balls in her lap and continued to glare at me.

  "I've got to see Grandmother," she said, standing up quickly.

  "Oh, already?" Mother cried mournfully. "You've just returned from school, and we haven't had time to gossip like we do. I so enjoy hearing about your friends at school and their families."

  "I don't gossip," Clara Sue snapped unexpectedly, swinging her eyes at me and then back to Mother quickly.

  "Well, I just meant—"

  "Grandmother says we're very busy now, and we don't have time to lollygag around."

  "Oh, how I hate those expressions," Mother said, grimacing. "Randolph?" she appealed.

  "I'm sure Grandmother didn't mean for you to hurry right back. She knows you're up here visiting with us."

  "I promised," Clara Sue insisted. Father sighed and then shrugged slightly at Mother. She took a deep breath and fell back against the pillow as if she had heard a death sentence. Why did she take everything so tragically? Had her condition begun when I had been stolen away? I felt sorry for her and terribly saddened, for it made Daddy and Mommy's action seem that much more terrible.

  "I'm tired anyway," Mother suddenly said. "I think I'll retire for the evening."

  "Very good, honey," Father said. Philip stepped forward.

  "I can show you around a bit now," he told me. Clara Sue turned on us sharply, her eyes blazing.

  "She's been here for days; you don't have to show her around," she complained.

  "She's been working constantly and hasn't had time to really look over the hotel. Right, Dad?"

  "Oh, yes, yes. We've all been so busy. Anyway, I'm making plans for our family outing—dinner at the Seafood House in Virginia Beach next week. If your mother feels up to it, that is," he added quickly.

  "I'm working Tuesday night," Clara Sue interjected.

  "Well, I'll speak to the boss and see if I can't get your schedule adjusted," Father said, smiling, but Clara Sue didn't return his smile.

  "Grandmother hates when we do that. She wants the hotel to run like a clock," Clara Sue insisted, her hands on her hips. Whenever she nagged or whined, she scrunched up her nose, widening her nostrils and making herself look like a little hog.

  "We'll see," Father said, still not showing any fluster. I couldn't imagine why not. Clara Sue needed discipline if anyone ever did, I thought.

  "I've got to go," Clara Sue repeated and stormed out.

  "Oh, how I hate the summer season," Mother said. "It makes everyone so tense. I wish I could go to sleep and wake up in September." She actually had two small tears shining in the corners of her eyes.

  "Now, now, dear," Father said, going to her side. "Don't let anything bother you this summer, remember? Remember what Doctor Madeo said: You've got to develop a tougher skin, ignore things that disturb you and think about only pleasant things. Now that Dawn is back and she is so talented and beautiful, we have even nicer things to think about."

  "Yes," Mother said, smiling at him through her tears. "I did enjoy her piano playing."

  "We've had some talented performers play here over the years, Dawn," Father said. "It will be wonderful to add you to the list someday soon."

  I looked from his smiling face to my mother's and saw that hers had become serious, even sorrowful again as she gazed intently at me. Once more I saw something confusing in her eyes, but I didn't give myself a chance to think about it.

  The next day there was an air of excitement running throughout the hotel. Everywhere I looked the staff was busy working, taking extra care to make the hotel look spic and span. In the kitchen the cook, Nussbaum, was cooking up a feast, and outside the gardeners were tending to the grounds with meticulous care.

  "What's going on?" I asked Sissy as I saw her zoom by with an armful of fine lace tablecloths.

  Sissy stopped dead in her tracks. She stared at me, her eyes widening. "Don't you know?" she asked. "Don't you know what day today is?"

  "No, I don't," I honestly admitted. "Is today a special day?"

  "It sure is!" Sissy proclaimed. "Today is Mrs. Cutler's birthday. Tonight there's going to be a big party with decorations, a birthday cake, and tons of guests and presents."

  After delivering the news Sissy continued on her way, leaving me to grapple with a dilemma. Today was Grandmother Cutler's birthday, and I hadn't even known. But even if I had, what difference would it have made? I knew how she felt about me—her feelings were obvious. Why should I care that today was her birthday? Yet suddenly I remembered Momma always telling me to treat others the way you would like them to treat you. Although I wanted to be just as mean and thoughtless to Grandmother Cutler as she had been to me, I kept remembering Momma's words. I sighed. I suppose I could turn my cheek the other way just this once. Maybe this was the chance I had been waiting for. Maybe this could be the first step in making things right between myself and Grandmother Cutler. I had hardly any money saved up to buy her a nice present. What was I going to do?

  I supposed I could ask my father for some money to buy a present, but that wouldn't be the same as getting Grandmother Cutler something myself. Besides, knowing her, she'd be awfully suspicious if I bought something I really couldn't afford. Then I came up with a solution. A brilliant solution! I would give Grandmother Cutler a gift from my heart and upon which a price tag could never be placed.

  I would sing her a song. This would be a step toward smoothing things out between us. Yes, my song would make everything right!

  I eagerly dashed off to my room to pra
ctice, unable to wait for Grandmother Cutler's birthday party that evening.

  That night I dressed with extra special care. First, I took a long, luxuriating shower, shampooing my hair and then conditioning it. When my hair was finally dry it was soft and fluffy, falling down my back in silky, cascading waves.

  Surveying my wardrobe, I chose to wear a white pleated skirt with a pink silk blouse and a sweater vest of pink and white. Taking a look at myself in a mirror, I thought I looked very nice and hurried down to the hotel lobby. That's where Grandmother Cutler would be greeting her guests and accepting her gifts.

  The lobby was already decorated with colorful streamers and balloons. A sign that read HAPPY BIRTHDAY stretched from one end of the lobby to the other. A line of guests was already waiting to meet with my grandmother. At its end were Clara Sue and Philip. Each had a gaily wrapped package in their hands. Philip's was tiny while Clara Sue's was huge. For a moment I felt embarrassed being empty handed. Then I reminded myself that I had a gift for Grandmother Cutler, too.

  "What are you doing here?" Clara Sue sniffed disdainfully. She inspected me from head to toe. "Why does that outfit look so familiar? Oh, yes!" she laughed gaily. "It was mine before I decided to throw it out. Shall we call you 'Second-Hand Dawn' from now on? It seems like you're always settling for seconds. Clothing, family." She laughed cruelly.

  Philip gave Clara Sue a dark look. "You sound jealous, Clara Sue. Could it be that your outfit looks much better on Dawn than it ever did on you?" he said, coming to my defense.

  "Thank you," I said to Philip. "And thank you, Clara Sue." I was determined not to let Clara Sue's pettiness bother me. "I never owned anything so pretty before."

  "It must be hard getting used to silk when you've only worn burlap for years," Clara Sue said sweetly.

  I bit my tongue and turned to Philip. "What did you buy for Grandmother?"

  "Perfume," he proudly boasted. "It's her favorite. It costs a hundred dollars a bottle."

  "I bought her a handmade vase," Clara Sue threw in, shoving herself between me and Philip. "It was made in China. What did you get her?"

  "I didn't have enough time or money to buy her a present," I admitted, "so I'm going to sing her a song."

  "A song?" Clara Sue looked at me blandly. "A song? You've got to be kidding!"

  "Yes, a song. What's wrong with that?" I could feel myself turning red. Maybe I should have brought Grandmother Cutler something. There was still time. I could get a bouquet of flowers in the hotel gift shop.

  "You can't be serious!" Clara Sue exclaimed. "What's the matter? You too cheap?"

  "I'm not cheap!" I told her. "I told you why I don't have a present. Besides, it's the thought that counts."

  "Some thought," Clara Sue snorted. "An off-key tune. Whooppee!"

  "That's enough, Clara Sue," Philip ordered sharply. "Dawn's right. It's the thought that counts."

  I gave Philip a grateful smile as we moved closer up. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."

  He gave me a wink. "Don't worry. You'll knock her socks off."

  After half an hour we reached Grandmother Cutler. Both my parents were at her side, looking exceptionally nice. My father gave me a smile while my mother stared at me nervously.

  Philip was the first to approach Grandmother. She opened his present slowly, being careful not to rip the paper. After finding the bottle of perfume, she dabbed some on her wrists and neck, inhaling the scent while giving Philip a big smile.

  "Thank you, Philip. You know how much I adore this scent."

  Clara Sue was next, and Grandmother once again opened the package slowly, removing a very pretty vase with an Oriental design from a mass of pink tissue paper.

  "It's exquisite, Clara Sue," she raved. "Exquisite! It will look lovely in my bedroom."

  Clara Sue nudged me in the side. "Let's see you top that with your dinky little song," she whispered before heading to kiss Grandmother Cutler on the cheek.

  Now it was my turn. Butterflies fluttered around my stomach, but I ignored them as I stepped up to Grandmother Cutler, a tentative smile on my face.

  "This is a surprise," she said, looking down at me from the ornately carved chair she sat upon. She held out her hands, expecting a gift to be placed in them. "Well?" she coldly asked.

  I nervously cleared my throat. "My gift isn't wrapped, Grandmother."

  She looked at me strangely. "It isn't?"

  "No." I took a deep breath. "I'm going to sing you a song. That's my present to you."

  Taking a deep breath, I launched into the song I had chosen to sing. It was my very favorite, "Over the Rainbow," the song I felt I sang with the most confidence. Suddenly I was no longer in Cutler's Cove, but over the rainbow. In the land of my dreams. I was back with Momma and Daddy, and Jimmy and Fern. We were all together, safe and happy. Nothing would ever tear us apart.

  When I finished the song, there was a tear in my eye. The crowd broke into applause and I smiled at everyone. My parents and Philip were even clapping, although Clara Sue wasn't. I turned to Grandmother Cutler. She was also clapping, but it wasn't because she was proud of me. Oh no! She was only doing this for appearance, because others were around. Her eyes glared at me icily and although there was a smile on her lips, her face was devoid of emotion. Frozen solid and as sleek as a chunk of granite.

  The guests started heading to the dining room, talking among themselves. Many of them complimented me as they walked by. Soon only my family was left.

  "What did you think of my song?" I asked Grandmother Cutler meekly.

  "Is that all?" she asked in her iciest tone as she rose from her seat. "If so, please step to one side. I have guests to entertain."

  "That's all," I whispered. I stood still, speechless. How could everything have gone so wrong? I looked to my parents, to Philip and Clara Sue, but no one came to my defense. No one. Once again I was all alone.

  Grandmother Cutler turned to the rest of my family. "Shall we adjourn to the dining room?" She led the way out, not even looking at me.

  Not able to say anything, fearing I would break down and cry, I turned away and fled. As long as lived I would never, ever forget this horrible evening.

  The following day Philip found me alone in the lobby, still feeling sorry for myself.

  "Shake away that frown and forget about last night," he said. "You'll win over Grandmother. Wait and see. In the meantime, you need some cheering up." He grabbed my hand, pulling me after him as he headed outside.

  The clouds had parted, and the sunlight was now streaming down in warm rays and making everything look bright and new. The grass smelled fresh and was Kelly green, as were the leaves on bushes and trees.

  I did look at everything as though for the first time. Up until now I had spent most of my time in the hotel working or sitting in my room. Philip's excitement opened my eyes and made me realize just how beautiful and big the Cutler's Cove Hotel and grounds were.

  To the left was a huge sparkling blue swimming pool with a bright white and blue cabana at the far end and a children's wading pool at the near end. A number of guests had come out to greet the returning sun and were bathing and sunning themselves on the lounge chairs that were set up along the sides of the pool. Pool boys were circulating about, setting up the cushions and providing guests with towels or whatever they needed. The lifeguard sat in his high chair at the far end overseeing the swimmers.

  There were pretty little walkways off to the right, circling through gardens and fountains. At the center was a large bright green gazebo. Some guests were seated at a table playing cards, and others were simply relaxing on the benches, talking softly, enjoying the afternoon.

  We walked down one of the fieldstone pathways. I paused to smell the scent of the tulips, and Philip broke off a white gardenia and put it into my hair.

  "Perfect," he said, standing back.

  "Oh, Philip, you shouldn't do that," I said gazing about quickly to see if anyone had noticed. No one was looking our way particula
rly, but my heart fluttered beneath my breast.

  "No big deal. We own the place, remember?"

  He took my hand again, and we continued down the pathway.

  "We have a baseball field over there," Philip said, pointing to the extreme right. I could see the high back stop fence. "There's a staff softball team. Sometimes we play the guests; sometimes we play the staffs from other hotels."

  "I didn't realize how beautiful and spacious it was back here," I said. "When I arrived at the hotel, it was already dark, and I haven't done much exploring on my own."

  "Everyone's jealous of how much land we own and what we've been able to do with it over the years," he said proudly. "We offer guests much more than the average beach resort can," he added, sounding like a true son of a hotel family. He saw the smile on my face. "I sound like an advertising brochure, huh?"

  "That's all right. It's good to be excited about your family's business."

  "It's your family's business now, too," he reminded me. I looked about again. How long would it take before I had such a feeling? I had to keep telling myself that if I hadn't been stolen right after my birth, I would have grown up here and been used to it.

  We stopped at one of the fountains. He stared at me a moment, his blue eyes growing darker and more thoughtful and then suddenly lighting up with the exciting thought that had occurred behind them.

  "Come on," he said, seizing my hand again, "I want to show you something secret." He tugged me so hard, I nearly fell over.

  "Philip!"

  "Oh, sorry. You all right?"

  "Yes," I said laughing.

  "Come on," he repeated, and we ran around the side of the old section until we came to a small cement stairway that led down to a faded white and chipped wooden door with a black iron handle. The door's hinges were rusted, and it was so of kilter that when he scurried down the steps and started opening it, it scraped along the cement and he had to jiggle and lift it to get it to open.