Page 28 of Dreams of Falling
“The song.” I jerked my head in the direction of the parlor. “That’s the name of the artist and the song. It’s a thing I do.” I thought he knew that about me. Or maybe I just thought that heshouldhave known that about me.
“Yeah,” he said, vaguely nodding his head as he accepted a slice of cake from Ceecee and placed it in front of me before holding up his own plate.
I cut a forkful and put it in my mouth, the taste bringing back memories. I’d always loved Ceecee’s lemon sponge cake and had eaten half of one the first time I hadn’t made the cheerleading squad. I’d eaten the second half the following day when Mabry had come by to tell me she was going to resign from the squad if I found it too hurtful. I’d smiled and hugged her, then told her she was being ridiculous, that I wanted to focus on the school play and my writing and editing for the school paper. And then Ceecee had come in and told me that I was better than all those girls on the squad, and that it was their loss. I pretended to believe her, and when she’d left to go to the grocery store, I’d finished the cake.
When we were done with dessert, Jackson turned to me. “It’s nice outside—would you like to go for a walk?”
As much as I wanted to get Ceecee alone and ask her about Margaret and the fire, I found myself unable to say no. But before I could respond, Bitty said, “We’ll need Larkin to help clear the table.” She leaned over and took Jackson’s plate without asking even though there were still a couple of bites left.
Ceecee gave her old friend a stern look. “Even at our advanced age, we are more than capable of clearing the table without help.” Facing Larkin, she continued. “You young people go enjoy the nice evening. It won’t be too much longer before the heat and humidity arrive and make walking more than a block a miserable experience.”
Jackson smiled gratefully at Ceecee, but he gave an even bigger smile to Bitty, who continued to frown at him as he escorted me out the front door.
We retraced the route I’d taken the previous night to the Harborwalk. When Jackson reached for my hand, I let him take it. I felt self-conscious at first, and then held tightly, thinking—misguidedly or not—that I had earned it.
“I saw you at Gabriel’s last night, didn’t I?” he asked. “I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you. I don’t think I would have even known who you were if Ceecee hadn’t introduced us.”
Again, I felt as if there were something vaguely insulting in his confession. “Yes, well, that’s all right. You looked like you were busy, so I didn’t want to disturb you.”
He blew out a breath through his nose. “That was Ashley—she’s a receptionist at the agency. We were working late, so I offered to walk her home and on a whim stopped for some ice cream.”
I didn’t say anything, and he must have taken my silence as understanding, because he asked, “How is it that you’re still single?”
I pretended that I hadn’t dreamed of this exact conversation more times than I cared to admit. I felt myself blushing and kept my head down. “I work a lot, and most of my coworkers are female, so not a lot of opportunities to meet guys.”
He grimaced. “And I’m working in the same town I grew up in, where everybody knows my family, so it’s almost like we’re in the same boat. A lot of tourists bring in fresh faces, but nothing permanent, you know?”
The word “permanent” and the sound of the lapping river brought a sense of déjà vu, a reminder of us having been here before, or someplace similar. On his daddy’s boat, anchored offshore, the sound of the river pushing against the fiberglass. Part of me wanted him to remember, too, while the other part wanted him to forget. I had made up my mind to ask him when he spoke again, and the moment passed.
“Do you remember Melissa Griffin?”
I did remember Melissa. Ceecee used to tell me we could have been twins. She said it so often that I actually believed her. Melissa was the cheer captain, and the student council president, and she also visited nursing homes as an extracurricular. She was also on the varsity field and track team, which gave her the athletic body that I hadn’t haduntil I started running in college. But I never noticed that she and I were as different as nonsisters could be, despite what Ceecee said.
“Yeah, I remember her.” I stopped there, not willing to admit that I’d had my hair cut just like hers and imagined that it made me look even more like her. It didn’t, of course, but I wouldn’t realize that until years later, looking at our senior yearbook. I’d tossed it in the garbage.
“We were married while still in college, but divorced within a year—no kids, thankfully. We were too young, I guess.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “That must have been hard. It’s a good thing you figured it out before you had kids.”
“True. Still pretty traumatic. I guess I’d bought into that permanent part, and it was shocking to realize how wrong I was.”
Permanent.He’d used that word again. I stopped to look up at him, the large gaslight behind us turning the tips of his beard stubble the color of fire. His eyes were green tonight—definitely green because of the oxford cloth button-down he wore in a pale shade—and when he looked at me, I thought I saw a flicker of recognition. A flicker ofsomething. Like a shared memory. But then it was gone as he looked at me with the simple expectation of waiting for me to speak. I should have said something then, but the old me wanted to be standing there with Jackson, pretending that the past didn’t exist and of all the girls in the world, he’d picked me. So I spoke, but not the words I should have.
“Or maybe,” I said slowly, “the word ‘permanent’ means something completely different depending on our age. Like how when we’re children, the word ‘old’ means anyone over twenty.”
“Yeah, that must be it,” he said casually, hurting my feelings a little bit, because I thought I’d just said something profound. He pulled on my hand. “Come on—let’s get some ice cream.”
I allowed him to lead me back to Gabriel’s. I held our seats at a table inside while Jackson got our orders—two cups of vanilla frozen yogurt with granola topping. Gabriel caught sight of me and raised his eyebrows when Jackson wasn’t looking. I simply shrugged, not sure how I would explain tonight to myself, much less to Gabriel.
I chiseled out the yogurt along the edges of my cup with my white plastic spoon while Jackson stabbed his right in the middle, taking out a big scoop. “This whole thing with your mother—I’m so sorry. You know, she came to see me recently, asking about various insurance policies.”
I lowered my full spoon back to the cup. “Was there anything in particular she wanted to know?”
“She was asking about that old burned-down plantation over on the North Santee. I had no idea your family owned it. My buddies and I used it for years as a party place. Always gave the girls the creeps, which just meant it was a good thing to be a big football player, you know? We’d build a bonfire and bring sleeping bags and a cooler full of beer. Always a good time.” He winked as he licked his spoon. “I sure am glad we were never tempted to go inside. Even back then it seemed like a bad idea. Besides, the girls didn’t want to go within ten feet of the place, and us guys were willing to keep them warm and safe.”
He put another big scoop of frozen yogurt into his mouth, oblivious to the fact that I’d known that he and his friends and the popular girls would go to an old burned-out plantation house and light a bonfire. Or that I’d never once been asked to go.
His smile faded quickly when I didn’t return it. “So, what did my mother want to know?” I asked.
