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"But it's my name!" I cried. She looked as if she would cry herself.
"I know what we will do," she said suddenly, clapping her hands together. "Whenever we introduce you to anyone who is important, we will introduce you as Eugenia Grace Cutler. Around here, in the family's quarters, we will call you Dawn, if you like. Doesn't that sound sensible, Randolph? Won't Mother think so?"
"We'll see," he replied, not sounding happy. But my mother put on a pained expression, and he relaxed and smiled. "I'll speak to her."
"Why can't you just tell her that's what you want?" I asked my mother. At this point I was more curious than angry. She shook her head and brought her hand to her breast.
"I . . . can't stand arguments," she said. "Must there be arguments, Randolph?"
"Don't concern yourself with this, Laura Sue. I'm sure Dawn and I and Mother will work it all out."
"Good." She took a deep breath. "Good," she repeated. "That's settled," she said.
What was settled? I
glanced at my father. He smiled at me as if to say let it be. My mother was smiling again, looking like a little girl who had been promised something wonderful like a new dress or a day at the circus.
"Come closer, Dawn," she said. "Let me get a real good look at you. Come, sit by the bed." She indicated a chair I should bring up with me. I did so quickly and sat down. "You are a pretty girl," she said, "with beautiful hair and beautiful eyes." She reached out to stroke my hair, and I saw her long, perfect pink fingernails. "Are you happy to be here, to be home?"
"No," I said quickly, perhaps too quickly, for she blinked and brought herself up as if I had slapped her. "I'm not used to it," I explained, "and I miss the only people I ever knew as my family."
"Of course," she said. "You poor, poor thing. How horrible this all must be for you." She smiled, a very pretty smile, I thought, and when I looked up at my father, I saw how much he adored her. "I knew you only for a few hours, held you in my arms for only a little while. My nurse, Mrs. Dalton, knew you longer than I did," she whined. She turned her sad eyes toward my father, and he nodded sadly.
"Whenever I am able to see you, you must spend as much time with me as you can, telling me all about yourself, where you have been, and what you have done. Did they treat you well?" she asked, grimacing as if preparing to hear the worst things: stories about being locked in closets or starved and beaten.
"Yes," I said firmly.
"But they were so poor!" she exclaimed.
"Being poor didn't matter. They loved me and I loved them," I declared. I couldn't help it. I missed Jimmy and little Fern so much it made me tremble inside.
"Oh, dear," my mother said turning to my father. "This is going to be just as difficult as I imagined it would be."
"It will take time," he repeated. "Don't work yourself into a panic, Laura Sue. Everyone will help, especially Mother."
"Yes, yes, I know." She turned back to me. "Well, I'll do what I can for you, Dawn, but I'm afraid my strength hasn't returned yet. I hope you will understand."
"Of course she will," my father said.
"After a while, when you've learned how to behave in society, we will have a little party to celebrate your homecoming. Won't that be nice?" she asked, smiling.
"I know how to behave in society," I replied, wiping the smile from her face.
"Well, of course you don't know how, dear. It took me ages and ages to learn the proper etiquette, and I was brought up in a nice home surrounded by nice things. People of position were continually coming and going. I'm sure you don't know the proper way to greet someone, or how to curtsy and look down when someone gives you a compliment. You don't know how to sit at a formal dinner table, what silverware to use, the proper way to eat soup, butter your bread, reach for things. There is so much for you to learn now. try to teach you as much as I can, but you must be patient, okay?"
I looked away. Why were these things important to her now? What about us really getting to know each other? What about a true mother-daughter relationship? Why wasn't she more interested in what I wanted and needed?
"And we can talk about womanly things, too," she said. I raised my eyes with interest.
"Womanly things?"
"Of course. We can't have you looking like this all the time."
"She's working in the hotel this summer, Laura Sue," my father reminded her gently.
"So? She can still look like a daughter of mine should look."
"What's wrong with the way I look?" I asked.
