Page 75 of Dreams of Falling
Ceecee almost argued, but the look in her mother’s eyes made her realize she shouldn’t. With a quick glance behind her, she went into the house, leaving her mother and Boyd to talk. Were they discussing the marriage proposal, which had yet to materialize? Or, she thought as she walked into the kitchen, was it Margaret’s mental health?
Although Ceecee and Bitty had been to see Margaret every day, their friend seemed to slip further and further away from them. Mrs. Purnell had offered to fix up the spare room for Margaret and have her move in with Ceecee’s family for as long as she needed. But Margaret had turned her down, saying she felt closer to her parents at Carrowmore. Ceecee was secretly glad. Her friend had already taken up so much of her life; she didn’t want to give up her house and family, too.
In the kitchen, Ceecee took her time pouring sweet tea into tall glasses, her hand shaking so badly that she had to stop and clean up the mess twice. Finally, her mother came in.
“What has gotten into you, Sessalee?” she asked, taking the pitcher out of her hands.
“It’s nothing. It’s everything,” she said, closing her eyes so she wouldn’t cry. “Is he here to tell me that he doesn’t want to marry me? Because I know he was planning on asking me that day Dr. Griffith called with the news about Mr. and Mrs. Darlington. But he hasn’t mentioned it since, and I’m sick with worry that he’s changed his mind.”
Her mother regarded her with pinched eyes. So much gray had appeared in her dark hair, Ceecee noticed, and deep wrinkles had formed between her brows.
“My sweet girl,” she said gently, “true love doesn’t change its mind. It might get waylaid or sidetracked, but if it’s real, it stays true. Don’t forget that, you hear?”
“But I know how I feel about him, and I know how he feels about me. I just don’t understand, Mama.”
Her mother pulled her into her arms, and Ceecee placed her head on her chest just like she had when she was a little girl. “Boyd is a good man. With a strong sense of responsibility. He understands, as I knowyou do, too, that one of your dearest friends just suffered a terrible loss and any celebration now would be not only inconsiderate but cruel.”
She pulled Ceecee away from her to look in her face. “You are so young, Sessalee. With all of life’s joys and disappointments ahead of you. Be patient. Your life will unfold the way it’s supposed to, but not necessarily the way you plan or expect. Your father would tell you it’s God’s will, and he’d be right. But I’d also like to think that if you follow your heart, it will lead you to where you’re supposed to be.”
This was the first time Ceecee’s mother had ever mentioned matters of the heart, and it warmed her as much as it scared her. “Why are you telling me this, Mama?”
“Because you’re my daughter and I love you. I know you’re a woman now, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to stop worrying about you.” She pursed her lips, considering her next words. “Remember how I used to caution you about a friendship with Margaret?”
Ceecee nodded, feeling suddenly light-headed.
“It’s easy to be kind and giving and loyal when you have everything. But the mark of a true friend is when everything is taken away and you’re still kind, giving, and loyal.”
“Margaret’s going through a difficult time, Mama. We need to be forgiving.”
Her mother took a step back, her eyes darkening. “I’m afraid Boyd’s come with bad news. I could tell from the look on his face when he arrived, and I sent you in here because I thought it was about Margaret.”
“Is she all right?” Ceecee tried to keep her voice calm as she picked up the three glasses.
Her mother lifted the pitcher of tea. “Yes, thank goodness.” She stopped in the doorway. “But I’m afraid Boyd has bad news about his brother.”
Boyd rose from one of the porch chairs and opened the screened door for them. His eyes met Ceecee’s, the intensity of his gaze making her stumble. He caught her with a hand on each shoulder, the tea from the glasses splashing up onto his sleeve.
“You have news of Reggie?” she asked, hardly recognizing her own voice.
He nodded, his expression one of pure misery. “He’s gone, Ceecee. Reggie was killed during a training mission in Japan.”
Ceecee was aware of the sound of the glasses hitting the wooden porch floor and almost obliterating the sound of screaming that kept reverberating in her ears. She only realized they were her own screams when Boyd put his arms around her and held her close, telling her everything would be all right.
But even then, she knew that things could never be all right again.
twenty-six
Ivy
2010
The ceiling above my hospital bed is an azure blue now, the same color as the sky after a hurricane has come and gone. People always find it surprising that the sky could be so clear after so much turmoil, but they shouldn’t. As Gabriel once told me, hurricanes scrub the skies clean to give us something to distract us from the debris left in their wake.
Life’s like that, I’ve found. If you can find the one good and pure thing to focus on in your life, the rest won’t matter. I didn’t realize the truth of that until the day I fell through the floor at Carrowmore.
Ceecee is humming along to the music as she waters the various flowers and plants that have begun to accumulate in my hospital room. I recognize the song but can’t name it, and I find myself hoping that Larkin will walk in and tell us what it is. It’s such a peculiar habit, her reciting the titles of songs, but I know why she does it. When Mack and I fought, music was her pure blue sky. It’s what she focused on to take her mind away to something good.
I’m pressed against the ceiling again, and I keep seeing flashes of the yellow dress that I know is Mama’s, and Ellis’s car engine just keeps revving and revving, like he’s impatient to go.
