Read Online Cutler 04 - Midnight Whispers by authors_sort - Free Book Online
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her heavy makeup lay the smile of a woman who thought herself a young girl again. Her eyes twinkled and her lips curved gently, lovingly.
"She looks good," Bronson had said, when he caught the object of my gaze. "She's reliving her own Sweet Sixteen," he added with a note of melancholy.
Now, he wheeled her off with the others after Mammy and I had kissed her good night. Mommy and I stood together and watched them go. She squeezed my hand and I saw her eyes well up with tears. Before either of us could utter a sad thought, however, we were inundated with well-wishers, including Aunt Bet, Richard and Melanie. Jefferson had, after all, behaved rather well and Richard had to tell us so. Of course, he took credit.
"He knew he had to be a gentleman at my table," Richard bragged. With his stiff demeanor, his hoisted shoulders and habitually serious expression, he looked more like a little old man than a twelve-year-old boy. Melanie wasn't much different. She kissed me good night, but when she stepped back, I saw that her eyes shifted quickly to her father. Uncle Philip's gaze was locked on me instead of her.
"Good night and once more Happy Birthday to the new princess of Cutler's Cove," he said, moving forward to embrace me and kiss me on the cheek.
"I'm not a princess, Uncle Philip," I said. Some of my school friends who lingered behind were sure to tease me after hearing him pronounce my title.
"Sure you are," he said. "Who else could be?" he added. I saw Melanie's eyes darken.
"What about all the presents?" Jefferson asked. He had been circling the pile of gifts on the table all night, anxious to tear off the wrapping paper and discover something he could play with.
"They will be brought to the house later," Mommy declared. "Go get your jacket."
Disappointed, he rushed off. I searched the straggling crowd and found Gavin hovering near the doorway, talking to Ricky Smith and Warren Steine.
"I'll be home in a little while, Mommy," I said. Perceptively, she looked toward Gavin.
"Don't be too late, honey. You're a lot more tired than you think," she cautioned.
"I won't." I hugged her tightly. "Thank you for a wonderful party."
"You're welcome, honey," she said.
Gavin's eyes locked with mine as I approached him. He excused himself and stepped toward me.
"I'm too excited yet to go to sleep," I said. "Do you want to go for a little walk?"
"Sure."
We slipped away from the lingering guests and I led Gavin through the rear of the lobby and outside to the rear of the hotel. The sky had almost completely cleared and the stars themselves looked like the twinkling tips of so many birthday cake candles. I took Gavin's hand in mine and turned down the walkway toward the gazebo, but a shrill peal of laughter coming from .the pool cabana caught our attention. We stopped walking and looked. A second cry of laughter confirmed our suspicions.
"It's Fern," Gavin whispered. We heard a male voice. He sounded and looked like one of our newest bellhops. Unable to put a lid on our curiosity, we walked toward the pool and saw Aunt Fern on a lounge, the bellhop lying beside her. Her all too sheer blouse was unbuttoned most of the way. Gavin and I paused, neither of us speaking, both hardly breathing. The bellhop was kissing her shoulders and lowering his face to her breasts. But Aunt Fern suddenly lifted a small bottle and brought it to her lips.
"You've had enough," the bellhop said.
"I never have enough," she replied and laughed again, only this time, her laugh turned into a cough, the cough into the sound of choking.
"Hey," her lover cried as she began to heave. He spun himself off the lounge just in time. Aunt Fern began to vomit hard and loudly, the grotesque sound carrying through the night. When it was over, she moaned and clutched her stomach.
"Oh, I feel like I'm dying," she wailed. "And it's all over me."
"You had better get to a bathroom," the bellhop declared. All she could do was moan a reply. He helped her up and led her
"She looks good," Bronson had said, when he caught the object of my gaze. "She's reliving her own Sweet Sixteen," he added with a note of melancholy.
Now, he wheeled her off with the others after Mammy and I had kissed her good night. Mommy and I stood together and watched them go. She squeezed my hand and I saw her eyes well up with tears. Before either of us could utter a sad thought, however, we were inundated with well-wishers, including Aunt Bet, Richard and Melanie. Jefferson had, after all, behaved rather well and Richard had to tell us so. Of course, he took credit.
"He knew he had to be a gentleman at my table," Richard bragged. With his stiff demeanor, his hoisted shoulders and habitually serious expression, he looked more like a little old man than a twelve-year-old boy. Melanie wasn't much different. She kissed me good night, but when she stepped back, I saw that her eyes shifted quickly to her father. Uncle Philip's gaze was locked on me instead of her.
"Good night and once more Happy Birthday to the new princess of Cutler's Cove," he said, moving forward to embrace me and kiss me on the cheek.
"I'm not a princess, Uncle Philip," I said. Some of my school friends who lingered behind were sure to tease me after hearing him pronounce my title.
"Sure you are," he said. "Who else could be?" he added. I saw Melanie's eyes darken.
"What about all the presents?" Jefferson asked. He had been circling the pile of gifts on the table all night, anxious to tear off the wrapping paper and discover something he could play with.
"They will be brought to the house later," Mommy declared. "Go get your jacket."
Disappointed, he rushed off. I searched the straggling crowd and found Gavin hovering near the doorway, talking to Ricky Smith and Warren Steine.
"I'll be home in a little while, Mommy," I said. Perceptively, she looked toward Gavin.
"Don't be too late, honey. You're a lot more tired than you think," she cautioned.
"I won't." I hugged her tightly. "Thank you for a wonderful party."
"You're welcome, honey," she said.
Gavin's eyes locked with mine as I approached him. He excused himself and stepped toward me.
"I'm too excited yet to go to sleep," I said. "Do you want to go for a little walk?"
"Sure."
We slipped away from the lingering guests and I led Gavin through the rear of the lobby and outside to the rear of the hotel. The sky had almost completely cleared and the stars themselves looked like the twinkling tips of so many birthday cake candles. I took Gavin's hand in mine and turned down the walkway toward the gazebo, but a shrill peal of laughter coming from .the pool cabana caught our attention. We stopped walking and looked. A second cry of laughter confirmed our suspicions.
"It's Fern," Gavin whispered. We heard a male voice. He sounded and looked like one of our newest bellhops. Unable to put a lid on our curiosity, we walked toward the pool and saw Aunt Fern on a lounge, the bellhop lying beside her. Her all too sheer blouse was unbuttoned most of the way. Gavin and I paused, neither of us speaking, both hardly breathing. The bellhop was kissing her shoulders and lowering his face to her breasts. But Aunt Fern suddenly lifted a small bottle and brought it to her lips.
"You've had enough," the bellhop said.
"I never have enough," she replied and laughed again, only this time, her laugh turned into a cough, the cough into the sound of choking.
"Hey," her lover cried as she began to heave. He spun himself off the lounge just in time. Aunt Fern began to vomit hard and loudly, the grotesque sound carrying through the night. When it was over, she moaned and clutched her stomach.
"Oh, I feel like I'm dying," she wailed. "And it's all over me."
"You had better get to a bathroom," the bellhop declared. All she could do was moan a reply. He helped her up and led her
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