Page 112 of Dreams of Falling
Ceecee’s fingers were gripped tightly together, still imprisoning the letter. “A year later. It was the decent thing to do, to wait a year.”
Bennett didn’t let go of my hand as I nodded repeatedly, trying to process my rampant thoughts. “So, he was in love with you when he married Margaret, and then after his wife dies in a fire, he marries you, and the two of you raise Margaret’s daughter as if she were yours.”
“Shewasmine!” Ceecee said, her voice raised, but not yet a shout. “I helped bring her into this world, right there in the hallway at Carrowmore. Ivy never lacked for love. Boyd and I raised her as if she were our beloved daughter because she was. We’d hoped for more children, but it wasn’t to be. So our lives revolved around Ivy, to make up for both of her parents being gone.”
My jaw felt as if it had been wired shut as I asked my next question. “Did you have anything to do with the fire that killed Margaret?”
Ceecee raised her hands to her face, just as Bitty reached over and snatched up the letter. “I think we’ve all heard enough for the time being,” she said. “I’ll take this for safekeeping, and we can look at it together tomorrow. I think our emotions are a little too raw right now.”
I started to stand, to reach over and grab the letter, but Bennett held me back. “That’s a good idea, Bitty. But to be fair, you’re not exactly an uninvolved bystander. Why don’t you give me the letter until the morning, when we can discuss this with clear heads?”
My gaze moved from Ceecee to Bitty, two women who’d alwaysloved me, even at my most unlovable. They’d raised me, made me the woman I was. There was something in the letter, something grave, something they weren’t ready to share. I owed them at least this.
Bennett looked around the table, waiting for each of us to nod our head. Bitty looked down at the letter for a long moment, then handed it to Bennett. “I trust you, young man. Don’t disappoint me.” She focused on me. “And don’t use any of your powers of persuasion on him, either. He’s a good man, but I’ve seen what a man can do in the name of love.”
Without stopping to explain, she slid her chair back from the table and stood, making Bennett stand, too. “I’m going to bed. I’ll see you all in the morning.”
Ceecee turned to watch her go, then faced me again. “We put a ribbon in the tree—the three of us together: Margaret, Bitty, and me. It said, ‘Friends forever, come what may.’” She frowned. “I don’t think we understood then that even dreams and wishes have to survive in the real world. I don’t think Margaret ever understood that. She never had to live in the real world until Reggie died.”
Bennett pulled out her chair and helped her stand, then led her to the stairs. To my surprise, she leaned up and kissed his cheek. “You remind me of my Boyd in so many ways. I’m glad Larkin has you.”
I wanted to tell her that I didn’t technically have him, but I stopped, realizing that wasn’t completely true.
“There are pillows and blankets in the chest behind the sofa, and I’ll put fresh towels for you in the upstairs-hall bath. New toothbrushes under the sink. You’re on your own for a razor, though.”
“Thank you, Ceecee. I’ll be fine,” Bennett said.
“She sleeps like the dead, so she won’t hear you if you come up the stairs,” Bitty called over the railing.
I wanted to laugh, or roll my eyes, but I couldn’t. I kept imagining the mural in my bedroom, the four martins, each carrying a ribbon in its beak. Did Mama imagine them to be Boyd and the three friends, each carrying a separate message to the Tree of Dreams?
“Good night,” Ceecee said, and waited.
But I couldn’t say anything, couldn’t stop thinking about what I’dlearned. How so many secrets had been kept from me my entire life. How the man I’d always considered my grandfather, who’d raised my mother, was my grandfather in name only. Not that it really mattered. He’d been my grandfather in all the ways that counted. He’d been kind and loving, and let me sit on his shoulders during the annual Fourth of July parade so that I was the tallest person there. He was the one who’d taught me how to bait a hook, and how to step into a johnboat without tipping it over. In my usual oblivious way, I’d never asked for the details, but I’d always known that the man I’d called my grandfather had been married to my grandmother and then married Ceecee. It had never occurred to me to ask how that had come about. Or how my grandmother had died. I felt a stab of guilt and shame, and wanted to ask Ceecee to tell me everything.
But when I lifted my head to say good night to Ceecee, the words froze in the back of my throat. I remembered the other mural in the ice-cream shop, of the three adults inside the house, the man carrying a child. Without a doubt, my grandfather’s identity hadn’t been the only truth kept from me.
Ceecee turned, and I listened to her slow progress up the steps, not moving until I heard the snap of her door as it closed. I went into the living room and pulled a pillow and blanket out and began to make up Bennett’s bed on the sofa. I felt him beside me before he took hold of the bedding and gently pried it from my hands.
“Sit down,” he said gently.
Too tired to argue, I sat, and he settled next to me. “I know what you’re thinking,” he said.
“Do you?”
He gave me a look. “Yeah, I do. There are a lot of puzzle pieces here, with several possible solutions, some of them easier to swallow than others.”
“Would you consider showing me the letter now?”
He didn’t dignify my question with an answer. Instead, he said, “Regardless of what’s in the letter, there are a handful of givens you need to remember. First is that you have had the undying devotion of Ceecee and Bitty your whole life. They’re not perfect, and I’dquestion some of their mothering skills, but there’s never been any doubt that they have always wanted the best life for you, in spite of where you think their motivation comes from.
“Second, I can’t see either one of those ladies engaging in a malicious act toward anyone. That’s not who they are, even if circumstances might tempt them. Third, I never knew Boyd, but he was my parents’ and grandparents’ family doctor, and they’re full of stories about his generosity and kindness. How he made house calls for the elderly long after most doctors stopped, and how he’d accept eggs or produce from those who couldn’t afford to pay. He delivered Mabry and me—did you know that?”
I shook my head. I hadn’t. Like so much else I hadn’t known, and not all of it because of Ceecee holding back.
“Last, but not least, look at who you are now. You’re an amazing woman, and it’s all because of how you were raised. If you’re brave and fearless, it’s because they showed you how.” He took a deep breath. “What I’m trying to say is that how devastating—or not—whatever is in that letter might be, those things won’t change.”
Tears pricked at the backs of my eyes, but I wasn’t ready to cry. I had a feeling there would be an opportunity in the coming days. For now, I had to pretend to be strong and see if I liked it enough to keep pretending until I believed it. “Thanks, Bennett.” I tilted my head. “How’d you get to be so smart?”
