Page 79 of Dreams of Falling
The photographs were all taken in the backyard of Ceecee’s house, their backs to the river. Mama looked beautiful with long, straight blond hair parted in the middle, wearing a long prairie-style dress, a large magnolia blossom fastened to her wrist as a corsage. I couldn’t tell if her bare toes meant she was wearing sandals or was barefoot. Probably barefoot, I decided. Because that was the way she would dress for a formal event.
In all three photos she was gazing up at Ellis, tall and handsome despite the powder blue velour tuxedo, mustache, and sideburns thatElvis Presley would have envied. He was glancing at Mama sideways, as if he knew he should be looking at the camera but couldn’t take his eyes off her.
Mabry stood and put her arm around my shoulder and squeezed, making me realize that I’d started to cry. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have shown that to you.”
I shook my head. “No. I’m glad you did. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her look so completely happy. She loved him, didn’t she? Really loved him.”
Mabry nodded. “That’s what Mama said. But she also said that your mama never regretted marrying your daddy. She loved him, too. He always thought her heart was secondhand by the time he got it, but Mama said that secondhand doesn’t mean used or worn-out. It means it’s become wise and seasoned. Of course, your mama also said that the most love she’d ever known was the love she had for you.”
I met my friend’s eyes, knowing she wouldn’t judge the tears freely flowing down my cheeks. I cleared my throat and used one of the ice-cream napkins to wipe my face. “Did you see any photos of Mama and me? Any of me wearing a tiara, a tutu, and my sparkly red shoes? She said in an e-mail she’d found it in an envelope and was going to send it to me. But that was the day she disappeared.”
“Nothing,” Mabry said. “Maybe she put it in your bedroom?”
“No. Daddy already checked.” I sat back, recalling my conversation with my father. “He mentioned she’d been refurbishing my grandfather’s desk. Maybe it’s in the detached garage.”
Mabry was already standing. “Come on, then—let’s go look.” She was out the back door before I stood to follow.
By the time I caught up to her, she’d flipped on the overhead light, illuminating a nearly empty garage that smelled of dust, paint thinner, and time. Standing in the center of the space, directly beneath a large light fixture with a bare bulb, was an ancient partners desk. The finish had been sanded from the surface, and bared wood made the desk look like a naked chicken. Bottles of different liquids and paint, along withbrushes, rags, and newspaper, littered the floor. The drawers had been pulled out and stacked against one wall, but after a cursory glance, I could tell that they were empty.
We both examined the desk but found nothing. “I’ll keep looking,” I said. “And I’ll ask my coworker Josephine to check my mail and see if Mama mailed it. I probably have an avalanche in my foyer by now, anyway. I wasn’t planning on being here this long.”
“Me, neither,” said Mabry, smiling softly. “And I’m sorry it took your mama’s accident to bring you back. But I’m glad you’re here. I’ve missed you.”
I was already backing out of the shed, knowing her well enough to anticipate what her next words would be.
“We need to talk about that day on the boat. We need to talk about what happened.”
I was shaking my head, moving forward without looking back. I was so good at it now, I didn’t even need to think about it. “We really don’t,” I said.
“Larkin, please.”
Something in the tone of her voice made me stop and turn around.
“This is your home. I don’t want misunderstandings to keep you away. Don’t you miss us? Don’t you miss the smell of the marsh early in the morning? Or the sounds of the creeks when you sit really still in a paddleboat? I would. I think my heart and soul would shrink if I had to spend months without seeing the sun rise over the sea oats. Don’t you feel that way, too?”
I kept walking toward the door of Ceecee’s house, my stride purposeful so Mabry wouldn’t suspect that I wanted to stop and run to her and tell her yes to all of the above. That I sometimes woke up with wet cheeks because I dreamed of the creeks and rivers of my childhood, missing them like the tides would miss the moon.
But I didn’t. Nine years spent telling myself that I couldn’t go home again made my separation permanent and official. I was nothing if not decisive.
I paused at the back door and faced her again. “Thanks for the icecream—and tell Ellis that I’m glad he’s feeling better. I’ll see you around.”
Mabry stood there, watching me, the same expression on her face that I remembered from the last time I’d seen her, before I left nine years ago, right before I threw a cooler at her head that pushed her into the dark water of the Sampit River.
twenty-seven
Ceecee
1951
Ceecee and Bitty sat in the white parlor, staring at the tea tray with its untouched sandwiches and sweating glasses of iced tea. Summer had appeared with a vengeance, as if it wanted to match Ceecee’s internal misery.
An antique French porcelain carriage clock ticked incessantly on the desk, reminding Ceecee of flies battering their hard black bodies against a closed window until Bitty forcibly made it stop. In other circumstances, Ceecee would have told her to be careful not to damage the fragile antique, but she could no longer find it in herself to care about such trivial things.
Unable to sit still any longer, Ceecee jumped to her feet. “I’ve got to find out what’s going on. I can’t stand not knowing for one more moment.”
Bitty stood, too, but her eyes were wary. “Sometimes it’s best to wait, even if it just means postponing the knowing.”
Ceecee turned on her with an unexpected fury. “Knowing what? I don’t know anything except Margaret is near death with grief, and her baby’s life is hanging in the balance. And the man I love is the only person she will talk to. The only person who can help her.” She facedthe door and took a step toward it before stopping. “If I go upstairs, if I force her to see me...”
