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"Maybe you should move into hers, then," I suggested, half in jest.
"Heaven forbid. I don't want anything whatsoever to do with that dreadful woman's things. Don't even joke about such a thing," she said, and then as quickly as her face had turned sour, it turned sweet. "Well, I must be off," she said. "I have Julius waiting in the hotel limousine outside. Perhaps," she said, calling back to me as she left, "I'll see something new and fashionable for you to buy."
I watched her hurry away and then went up to get Christie. Because the summer season was in full swing, I had become more and more involved in the day-to-day administration of the hotel. Occasionally Jimmy gently reminded me of my promise not to become so involved in my hotel work that I neglected him and Christie. A few times I had been called away from dinner to solve a problem or two, and each time, when I returned to the table, Jimmy gazed up at me, that "I told you so" glint in his eyes.
But both Mr. Dorfman and Mr. Updike were growing more and more confident about leaving things up to me. Phone calls and requests, questions from staff members and suppliers were increasingly directed to me. Every morning now my notepad was filled with things to do and people to call. It had become far more tiring and mentally draining than I had ever imagined it would be. It made me wonder how Grandmother Cutler had run this hotel so firmly when she was so much older. I couldn't believe that someone that age, especially someone like her, could outlast someone my age. And yet precisely because I had all these things distracting me, I felt more and more guilty about not spending enough time with Christie.
She was developing so rapidly that one day I would look at her and think of her as a pretty little baby, and the next day I would see her as a precocious infant with a remarkable curiosity about her surroundings. She missed Randolph enormously—probably missed him more than anyone. Sissy told me how often she asked to go to his office. He had been so patient with her and so happy to have her interrupt his bizarre activities.
Finally I told Sissy to bring her to my office, only I found it more difficult than Randolph had, for my work was real, and the people who waited to speak to me on the phone or came to see me about problems in the hotel weren't as happy about waiting for me to first explain something to Christie. But if I didn't explain it, she would pull on my skirt or ask her question repeatedly until she was satisfied.
Sometimes, when Jimmy was in one of his more charitable and forgiving moods, he would come by and take her out with him to ride on the mowers or watch the men painting and cleaning. Nothing bored her, whether it be manual labor or simply watching the bookkeeper work away on an adding machine. People were always interesting to her.
We bought her educational toys, and her speaking vocabulary grew by leaps and bounds. Guests were astounded when they were told she was only a little more than two. Growing up in the hotel environment, surrounded by different strangers weekly, she became quite outgoing and was shy only when someone complimented her clothes or her hair or her beautiful blue eyes.
I couldn't help wondering if she had inherited Mother's coyness. She was certainly quite enamored of herself and would spend hours before her mirror with her first brush and comb set. She sat patiently, too, when Sissy did her fingernails for the first time, and she couldn't wait to be paraded through the hotel to show everyone.
Only Mother paid her scant attention. If she did come upon her in the hallways or lobby, she would flash a smile, but I felt she was doing it because she was aware there were other people watching. She never volunteered to spend time with Christie or permitted Sissy to bring her into her suite. The one time Christie had wandered in there, Mother had shouted for Sissy to take her out because there were too many expensive things she might break accidentally.
Mother's busy new schedule increasingly kept her away from the hotel. She rarely ate a meal with us in the dining room and saw guests only as she was passing through to come and go. Philip called me one day to ask me if I knew why she hadn't returned his phone calls.
"I'm just wrapping things up at college and wanted to take a short holiday with Betty Ann and her parents in Bermuda. They've invited me, and I wanted Mother to know," he said, but I also felt he wanted me to know.
"When did you call her last, Philip?"
"At least a week ago, and I called twice before that. Where is she? Is she all right?" he inquired.
"She's fine. I've never seen her looking healthier or more energetic. The fact is, I don't see her all that much these days. She's always going somewhere, and wherever she goes, she stays away for most of the day. Even most of the evenings sometimes," I added.
"Hmmm," he said. "That's not like her. Anyway," he said, "please give her my message. send you postcards from Bermuda," he added.
"Well, I hope you have a good time," I said.
"Thank you. I do expect that when I return I'll pick up my share of the work," he promised.
"There will be plenty for you to do," I advised him. He laughed.
"Becoming the new Mrs. Cutler?" he teased.
"Hardly," I said. "I'm my own person."
I felt I had done much to make that happen. As I had planned, I changed the office decor considerably, replacing the dreary dark curtains with bright blue ones, tearing up the carpet and putting in a thick, beige one that gave one the feeling that he or she was walking on marshmallows. I added more light and put up some paintings that had color and brightness. The only painting I let remain was the portrait of my father on the wall behind the desk.
It just didn't feel right taking that down.
I had pictures of Christie and Jimmy in frames all over my desk, and I let Sissy leave some of Christie's toys in a corner of the office. Jimmy made sure there were fresh flowers brought in and placed in vases every few days, so that the scent of lilac—a scent that had been Grandmother Cutler's—was replaced with the scent of roses and carnations, jasmine, or whatever was in bloom, except lilacs.
"I hesitate to ask this," I said before Philip and I ended our conversation, "but what is Clara Sue doing?"
"She won't return my phone calls either, but she passed word through some mutual acquaintances that she intends to spend the summer with a friend whose parents have a home on the Jersey shore. I'm sure that leaves you heartbroken," he concluded, laughter in his voice.
"Has she told Mother?" I wondered aloud. "If she has, Mother had said nothing about it to me."
"Her only contact with Mother will be to have her send money, I assure you," Philip said.
I wished him a good time once more, and we ended our phone conversation.
Early in the evening, when I had gone up to shower and change for dinner, Mother came to my door and knocked. Apparently she had returned from wherever she had been and showered and changed herself for another one of her evenings out. She looked quite smart in her crimson dress with its slender waist, billowing full skirt and boned bodice. I had just come out of the shower, and I had my head wrapped in a towel and wore a robe.
