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No, it was better I did it without his knowing, quickly, staying only a few minutes. I would do just as Michael suggested—I would tell Christie we were visiting some old friend. I'd pretend we just happened to meet him.
I couldn't believe how my body was shaking. Was I trembling because of fear, or was I trembling because of excitement? Michael's handsome face flashed before me. I had done so well keeping those memories locked and buried in the deepest chambers of my heart, but in a moment Michael had burst into my new life and torn open the black chest of remembrances, permitting them to escape into my conscious thoughts. Once again I heard the music, saw his impish glint, heard his laughter and felt myself being swept up in his arms. Falling in love with someone so debonair, sophisticated and handsome had been overwhelming for a girl my age. The power of those recollections was enormous. They could still bring a flush to my face and take my breath away.
Try as I would, I couldn't put my impending rendezvous with Michael out of mind. Every moment of silence was filled with the sound of Michael's voice, the memory of his singing or his laughter. And if I stopped working, my mind drifted back quickly to some scene with him in New York, even just walking alongside him in the corridors of the school.
At dinner Jimmy noticed I was going in and out of daydreams, and finally he asked me if anything was wrong.
"You look so distracted at times," he said. "Are you worried about something new?" he asked, shifting his eyes toward Fern.
"Oh, no," I said quickly, realizing how guilty I looked. "I was just thinking about some of the suggestions Mr. Dorfman made concerning the hotel's expansion."
"I thought we were going to try to put the hotel behind us when we entered our sanctuary," Jimmy reminded me.
"You're right, Jimmy. I'm sorry," I said, and I immersed myself in the conversation he was having with Fern and Christie about school.
Later, when I went in to kiss Christie good night, I told her she and I were going to go shopping in Virginia Beach as soon as she returned home from school.
"Is Aunt Fern coming, too?" she asked.
"No, no, it's just us, honey. She has to do her schoolwork. In fact, you shouldn't tell her anything; it would just make her unhappy that she can't go," I said. I hated bringing Christie into this deception, but I still believed it was for the best.
"You mean like a secret," she said.
"Sort of. Yes. Think of it like that," I coached, and I kissed her. "Good night, sweetheart," I said, and I thought, Soon you will see your real father, and you won't even know it—not now, not for a long time. But at least you will have that memory when I do tell you, I reasoned, and I kissed her a second time.
"Sleep tight," I said.
I closed her door behind me and stood there in the hallway for a few moments. I couldn't help being a little terrified of meeting Michael again. How would I react when I first saw him? What would come out of my mouth? Words of fury and anger, or words of sadness? Can you have been so in love with someone and then years later look at him and feel nothing at all? I wondered.
Tomorrow I would find out.
I was on pins and needles all day until Christie and Fern were brought back from school. I had already instructed Julius about taking Christie and me to Virginia Beach. When he pulled up in front of the hotel with her in the backseat I hurried down the steps and slipped into the vehicle as quickly as I could. I couldn't help feeling sneaky about it. I had told Jimmy I intended to do some shopping, claiming Christie needed some things. He didn't question me; I even asked him if there was anything he needed.
"No. I wish I could get away to go with you," he said, "but we have that problem with the oil burner in section four."
"That's all right, Jimmy. It's just a fast trip," I said, afraid that he might find a way to join me later.
Now, as I sat in the limousine and we drove off, all my fabrications came home to roost, and I felt just horrible.
"Aunt Fern wanted to know why I wasn't getting out of the car, Momma," Christie said.
"What? Oh . . . what did you say?"
"I told her I was going to the hotel. She looked at me funny," Christie added.
"It's all right, honey. It's better this way," I assured her. "Where are we going?"
"Oh, just to do some shopping, and to stop by and see an old friend who's staying at a
hotel in Virginia Beach," I added as casually as I could.
"Why didn't this old friend stay in our hotel?" Christie asked quickly. She was so sharp.
"He had business in Virginia Beach and is staying only one day," I replied. I'm sure I was imagining it, but she looked skeptical.
I had Julius drive us directly to the Dunes. My intention was to see Michael and get it over with immediately. Then I would take Christie to a department store and buy her some new underwear and stockings, as well as a new sweater. Winter was just around the corner. We had already had cold mornings with flurries, and the clouds that came rolling in from the northwest looked angrier and darker than ever. The period between the end of fall and the heart of winter always depressed me. Trees had lost their leaves and looked bare and still but had not yet taken on sleeves of snow over their branches. They looked most gloomy in the moonlight, until they had either snow or ice crystallized on them. Then they would twinkle and make me think of Christmas.
"Here we are," Julius announced. The doorman at the Dunes shot forward and opened our doors before Julius could. Christie stepped out, thanking him, and I followed, my heart beginning to pound against my chest like a sledgehammer. I had to stop to catch my breath. Christie looked up at me quizzically.
