Page 66 of Dreams of Falling
“You think so?” She paused a moment before blurting out, “Because I find myself feeling so much anger toward her. Anger for getting herself in this situation. And anger because she’s doing nothing to help herself.”
“Maybe she doesn’t know how,” Boyd suggested gently. It’s one of the things she loved most about him. His compassion for others even when they didn’t seem to deserve it.
He continued. “She’s been raised with others taking care of her every need. Being born beautiful doesn’t help, either. She’s never had to work very hard to get people’s attention, so she’s never had to wait for something she’s wanted or needed. She expects it all as her due.”
Everything Boyd said was immediately forgotten as soon as he said the word “beautiful.” “You think Margaret’s beautiful?” Ceecee asked, trying to keep her voice light and playful, and was afraid she’d failed completely. It was a stupid question that did nothing to hide her insecurities. A person would have to be blind not to notice that Margaret Darlington had a rare kind of beauty.
“Yes. But in the way a marble statue in a museum is beautiful. So lovely to look at, but you’re a little afraid to touch it in case it might break.”
Mollified, Ceecee curled her legs up on the swing and rested her head on Boyd’s shoulder. She knew he was getting close to proposing, felt it in her bones. She’d been working very hard to ensure they had enough time alone. Which was difficult, considering she had two younger brothers and a mother with eyes like a hawk. Even now, before dusk, the front-porch lights were on, and the front room draperies were pulled wide open to allow ample viewing of the porch from inside the house.
Boyd looked down at her, his eyes twinkling. “Have I told you lately that I think you’re the most incredible woman I’ve ever met?”
“I don’t remember. But I don’t mind you repeating yourself.”
He smiled, his gaze traveling down to her lips, and something that felt like fire raced from her heart to her toes and back again. “Have I told you how much I love you?”
“Yes,” she whispered, stretching her neck so that their lips were almost touching. “But you can say that as many times as you want, too.”
His lips brushed hers just as the front door slammed open and her brother Lloyd ran out onto the porch, stopping in front of the swing. “Mama wants to know if you want some sweet tea.”
Ceecee could tell Boyd was trying very hard not to laugh. “Thanks, Lloyd. I wouldn’t mind a glass, and I’m sure your sister would like one, too. Please thank your mama for being so thoughtful.”
Lloyd stood staring at them, as if he hadn’t anticipated Boyd’s answer, and for a horrible moment, Ceecee wondered if her mother had any sweet tea at all or was just playing her chaperone role a little too thoroughly.
“All right,” he said, dragging his feet as he moved closer to the door and opened it, the sound of the phone ringing inside.
The door banged behind her brother as Boyd turned back to her. “Where were we?” he asked softly, his lips brushing hers.
“Sadly, here on my parents’ porch instead of somewhere with a little more privacy.” She pressed her lips against his, hoping his head blocked her mother’s view from inside.
Boyd pulled back, his eyes searching hers. “I haven’t spoken with your father, yet, and I haven’t even begun my medical career, but I believe my prospects are good.”
He pressed his forehead against hers as Ceecee prepared to say the word “yes” without shouting it.
The front door opened again, and Ceecee started to tell Lloyd to go away, but she paused with the words still on her lips. It was her mother, her face ashen. Ceecee stood, Boyd following and standing next to her. “What is it, Mama? What’s wrong?”
“That was Dr. Griffith. On the phone.” Her gaze drifted to Boyd. “He’s looking for you. There’s... there’s been an accident.”
Ceecee rushed to her mother and grabbed her arms. “Is it Daddy? Is Daddy all right?”
Ceecee’s mother shook her head. “Your father is fine. It’s the Darlingtons. Margaret’s parents. They were in their car on the South Santee River Bridge, and a truck swerved...” She stopped, regained her composure. “Their car went over the side.”
Boyd was already struggling into his jacket and putting on his hat. “Where are they?”
She reached for Ceecee’s hand and squeezed. “Dr. Griffith needs you to bring Margaret.” She paused again, taking a deep breath. “He’s at the morgue. Both of her parents are gone.”
“Come with me, Sessalee,” Boyd said, already stepping quickly from the porch. “Margaret’s going to need you.”
Ceecee met her mother’s eyes, seeing beyond the grief and sadness the same kind of resignation she’d seen in Bitty’s eyes, a recognition of an inevitability that everyone except for her seemed to have anticipated.
twenty-three
Larkin
2010
As I walked up to my parents’ front porch, my phone beeped again. Glancing down, I saw it was another text from Jackson, letting me know he was back in town and asking if I wanted to go out on his boat. While half of my brain was already planning what sort of bathing suit to buy, the other half was shouting at me to tell him no, reminding me that I’d received the apology I’d been waiting for and should move on. I had no problem identifying which message was being conveyed by the old Larkin and which by the new.
