Page 55 of Dreams of Falling
“Grow into a reclusive old maid, I’m sure,” Bitty said, hiding her smile by taking a drag from her cigarette.
Ceecee leaned into Margaret. “Don’t listen to her. We all know that you’re destined to be the queen of the universe with or without us.”
Her mood restored, Margaret gave them a quick squeeze before sliding off the swing. “Come on, then. It’s time to put our new ribbons in the tree.”
“What new ribbons?” Ceecee asked.
“The ones we talked about in Myrtle Beach—about being friends forever, that no matter what, we will stick together,” Bitty said. “Although I still don’t know why we have to put it in writing. It’s like she doesn’t trust us or something.”
“Silly,” Margaret said. She reached into the large pockets on the skirt of her yellow dress. “I’ve already made them, and they all say the same thing.” She gave each of us a wide sunshine-colored hair ribbon, her neat penmanship inked down the length of each one in blue.Friends forever, come what may.
“Come on. Let’s make it official.” Margaret ran down the porch steps, her mood changed as quickly as the weather, as if she truly believed things were bound to go her way. Because, of course, theyalways had. Ceecee felt a moment of resentment, but quickly pushed the feeling away as she and Bitty followed her to the back of the house, under the dangling martin gourds, to the old tree at the edge of the river. One by one they stuck their ribbons into the opening, then stood grinning at one another. Distant thunder rolled over the marsh, dark and heavy clouds billowing sleepily across the sky.
Ceecee shivered, remembering how it had rained the last time they’d done this and how so many of their dreams had come true. She looked back at the house and at the retreating forms of her two friends, and she had the sudden desire to freeze that moment in a photograph, a memory of three friends before everything changed.
Shaking off her dark mood, she shouted for them to wait for her, then quickly ran to catch up.
•••
?On the day Boyd and Reggie were expected to arrive, Ceecee was back again at Carrowmore, pacing the front porch while Bitty sat with Margaret on the swing. Despite multiple attempts to reach Reggie—including Bitty following through on her threats to call incognito—Margaret hadn’t heard a single word from him. Even Boyd was having trouble reaching him, but promised he’d go out of his way to stop in Summerville on his way to Georgetown to find out what was going on with his brother.
Boyd was due any minute now, with still no word from Reggie. Ceecee refused to dwell on what might have happened, fearing the worst. As her mother always told her, she’d cross that bridge when she came to it. Although, from what she could tell, the bridge was just around the bend.
A small part of her hoped that Reggie wasn’t with Boyd. She didn’t want him to see Margaret like this. She glanced at her friend, alarmed at the change in her. The golden hair lay dull and lifeless against rounded shoulders, her face lacked its usual glow, and even the light in her eyes seemed to have dimmed. The only color in her skin was the purple of the half-moons under her eyes, a testament to her inability tosleep and to her incessant worry. But this would be the measure of true love, she reasoned. To see a person at her worst and love her anyway.
Ceecee watched as Bitty offered Margaret a Tootsie Roll, and Margaret turned away, shaking her head. Mrs. Darlington had given up trying to entice Margaret with the usually forbidden sweets she craved, and was threatening to call the doctor. That was the only thing that had evoked a strong reaction from Margaret, who told her mother that no doctor could mend a broken heart.
Mrs. Darlington’s expression had suggested that Margaret was being overly dramatic, but there was worry there, too. She’d promised that if they hadn’t heard from or seen Reggie by the end of the day, she’d have Mr. Darlington make a phone call. Not to appear eager on their daughter’s account. After all, Margaret Darlington was not desperate or the kind of girl without other options. They just wanted to show their concern over Reggie’s welfare.
By the time they saw the cloud of dust announcing an approaching vehicle, Ceecee had chewed off all of her fingernails, and Margaret had collapsed against Bitty’s shoulder on the swing. Ceecee ran to the screen and threw good manners aside to shout inside the house, “Someone’s here!”
The uniformed housekeeper who’d been dusting the foyer stared back at Ceecee through the screen. “Yes, miss. I’ll let Mr. and Mrs. Darlington know.”
Ceecee ran back to the top of the steps, pausing long enough to watch Bitty helping Margaret stand, their hands clutched together. Her heart gave a leap of relief when the car was close enough for her to recognize it as Boyd’s. She strained to see whether someone was in the passenger seat, but the dust obscured her vision. Impatient, she ran to the bottom of the steps but forced herself to stop at the drive upon hearing the arrival of Margaret’s parents behind her. Their regal bearing and strict adherence to social niceties had always intimidated Ceecee, and she knew she had to be on her best behavior for Boyd’s sake.
When the car pulled up and the engine stopped, she heard the cry of despair from Margaret before her own brain registered that Boydwas alone. But Boyd was here.HerBoyd. It took every ounce of restraint not to throw herself into his arms and kiss him. Instead, she walked around the car to greet him sedately as he shut his door, and when he smiled at her, it was with the same mix of emotions she was feeling.
“Hello, Sessalee. I’ve missed you,” he said quietly.
“Me, too,” she whispered back, and then, because she couldn’t not touch him, she took his arm and slid her hand into the crook of his elbow. “Let me introduce you to Margaret’s parents. We’re hoping you’ve brought us good news.”
He looked down at her and gave a quick shake of his head. Ceecee’s heart sank as he guided her up the steps toward the gathering group. She couldn’t look at Margaret, couldn’t bear to see her friend’s agony any more than she could bear the guilt of her happiness because she had Boyd by her side.
Margaret surprised them all by moving to stand between her parents to make the introductions. She appeared cut from glass, her skin bloodless, her movements sharp and deliberate as if someone else had moved into her body and left only a shell.
The housekeeper appeared and pulled the door wide open, and Mrs. Darlington ushered them all inside. Margaret even managed to walk on her own, following her mother’s lead by asking about Boyd’s trip and how his family was doing in Anderson. But her voice didn’t sound like hers; it reminded Ceecee of a talking doll.
They were led through the gracious paneled entryway lined with antiques and family heirlooms, Dresden figurines and French crystal, and to the white parlor on the right. Ceecee had always thought of this room as the wedding room, and not just because generations of Darlingtons had been married within its four walls but because of the layers of filigreed moldings and heavy chandelier medallions that resembled the white spun sugar of a wedding cake. It was the room where she was sure Margaret had already dreamed of her wedding with Reggie taking place.
Ceecee made sure her back was straight and her ankles crossed as ancient Darlingtons looked down their perfect noses at the visitorsfrom framed portraits on the walls. The housekeeper and another maid brought in a silver tea service and small cakes, along with the treasured Darlington Chinese porcelain that had been in the family for two centuries.
They made small talk as cups and plates were passed. A cup and saucer were placed on a table next to Margaret, and she accepted a plate of cakes, which sat perched on her lap untouched. Boyd sat next to Ceecee on the sofa, and she had to keep remembering not to stare at him, to keep her focus on Margaret, who appeared to be shattering beneath her skin.
Bitty, who sat in a chair to Ceecee’s left, kept shooting her glances, her eyes widened with worry. Mr. Darlington was in the middle of telling Boyd that he would be more than happy to formally introduce him to the retiring Dr. Griffith, when the sound of shattering china quieted the room immediately.
Margaret had stood, her plate and teacup crashing together onto the Aubusson rug. Her fists were clenched by her sides, her eyes wild as she regarded Boyd. She opened her mouth to speak, and Ceecee held her breath.
“Where is Reggie? He’s supposed to be here today.”
