Page 80 of Dreams of Falling
“It won’t accomplish anything,” Bitty said calmly, taking out her pack of cigarettes from her pocketbook and pulling one out. “Damn,” she said under her breath, crumpling the now-empty pack and tossing it across the room.
Ceecee turned to look at her friend, her anger and frustration—her grief—momentarily defused. “I have a stash of Tootsie Rolls in my pocketbook if you need them. I save the ones you give me because I don’t like them.” She wasn’t sure why she was being honest about that now. Maybe because she was so raw and bare, and felt the need to shed what skin still clung to her aching bones.
“If I had another cigarette, I’d offer you one,” Bitty said, only half joking.
The sound of slow footsteps coming down the grand staircase caught their attention. Bitty waited while Ceecee ran out into the foyer, feeling all the past Darlingtons looking down their aristocratic noses at her in their portraits. Her gaze skimmed over them to the tall figure carefully making his way down the stairs, his hand tightly gripping the banister.
“Boyd.” She’d meant to say it in a normal tone of voice, but his name came out as if her mouth were coated with feathers.
He looked awful. His face was pale and drawn, his hair uncombed as if he’d been repeatedly running his fingers through it. His collar was unbuttoned, his tie askew, his jacket discarded somewhere, and his sleeves rolled up to his forearms as if he was prepared to do battle.
“Sessalee.”
It didn’t sound like her name or his voice. It was a cry of defeat and longing, of frustration and grief, and it scared her enough that she turned toward the front door. She was grasping the handle before she felt his hands on her arms, his warmth behind her.
“I need to tell you something,” he said, his voice tight, his mouth stingy with the words.
“Don’t.” She wasn’t even sure what he needed to tell her, but she knew whatever it was would break her heart.
The grip on her arms tightened as he pulled her against him, resting his chin on the top of her head. “I love you, Sessalee. From that first moment I saw you, remember?”
She turned in his arms, stood on her tiptoes, and kissed the underside of his jaw before laying her head on his shoulder. “Then let’s run away. Far from here. We’ll get married and have children together and live happily ever after.”
“Oh, my darling Sessalee. You have no idea how much I wish we could.”
A thin crackling sound came from inside her chest, like that of stepping on a frozen puddle in the middle of winter and shattering its surface. She felt suspended in time, somehow, as if this all weren’t happening, or had already happened to someone else.
They both turned at the sound of running feet moving up the staircase and saw Bitty pausing at the curve of the landing. She leaned over the railing. “I’m going to see if I can talk some sense into her.” She angrily brushed at the tears streaming down her cheeks. “This... It cannot be allowed.” Without another word, she disappeared around the graceful curve of the staircase, her feet heavy and quick.
Ceecee had seen Bitty cry only once, when her favorite dog had died when they were twelve. And seeing her cry now, more than anything, chilled her heart. Ceecee could lie to herself and pretend that her darkest fear didn’t exist, could pretend that because she and Boyd loved each other they would be married and live the life they both dreamed of. But Bitty’s tears were nails in the coffin of Ceecee’s dream. There could be no more denying or pretending. No more dreaming. No more thinking that the Darlington luck would pull through one more time.
But then again, she thought, it had. Just not for her.
She tried to pull away from Boyd, but he held her tightly. Taking her hand, he led her through the front door and then around to the back of the house. She struggled again to make him let go when she realized where he was taking her.
“Sessalee—please. Please. I need to show you something.”
She allowed him to lead her to the giant oak tree near the bank of the river, resentful of the bright sun that glinted off the water andthrough the shiny leaves of the oak. “Let’s sit,” he said, pulling her down onto one of the thick roots protruding from the earth like an arthritic knuckle.
Boyd took a deep breath before reaching into his shirt pocket and retrieving a white envelope. “Before Reggie left to enlist, he wrote two letters. One was for Margaret.” He pressed the letter into Ceecee’s cold and stiff fingers. Despite the heat of the day, she shivered.
“This one was for me. It was sealed, and he left instructions for me not to open it unless something happened to him.”
She looked at the torn flap of the envelope, and her breath caught in the back of her throat.
“Read it,” Boyd said gently.
She shook her head. “I can’t.”
He waited for a long moment, and she felt his gaze on her, heard his breathing. Finally, he took the envelope from her and opened the letter inside before he began to read aloud.
Dear Boyd,
I’ve been doing a lot of thinking recently, and it occurred to me for the first time that I have never lived a day of my life without knowing you were in it, and knowing I was better off for it. You’ve always been the best big brother and role model a man could ever want. Even with our age difference, it never seemed that you and I were very far apart in the way we viewed the world and our place in it. I’m prouder than I could ever say to call you my brother.
Ever since that summer on Folly Beach when I saved your life, I’ve always known that I was meant to be there. To maybe save you for better things. You’ve always said that you owed me your life, that you would go to the ends of the earth to repay the favor, but I never once viewed it that way at all. Yet perhaps you’ve been right all along. Maybe we both have.
I love Margaret Darlington and wish to spend the rest of my life with her. I know she feels the same, despite our difference in opinion about whether I should enlist. I love my country, and I am compelled to serve itin any capacity and do my duty as you did and our ancestors have done. Enlisting was the toughest choice of my life, and that decision does not lessen how I feel for Margaret. Please make sure she knows that.
