Page 81 of Dreams of Falling
I think we are all born with just half a heart, and we are meant to spend our lives looking for the other half. Margaret is mine, and I am hers. I haven’t doubted that from the moment she took my hand on the dance floor at the Ocean Forest. That’s how I remember her—gold hair shining under the moonlight as she danced in my arms.
All the plans and hopes in the world can’t make our dreams come true, which is why I’m calling in the debt. I behaved dishonorably, and even though I asked Margaret to marry me, she said no—but only until I’d changed my mind about enlisting. I don’t blame her. This isn’t what she planned for. But we can’t always plan for everything, can we? Life has its own plans sometimes, and we’ve no choice but to follow.
I need you to promise me, Boyd, that if something should happen to me, you will repay the debt you owe me and take care of my Margaret. And if there is any result from my transgression, I’m counting on you to do the honorable thing by me. You know that I would do the same thing if our positions were reversed. But of course they’re not. You’ve always known how to turn away from temptation and do the admirable thing. I’m not nearly as strong.
Be well, Boyd. I hope you never have to read this letter. And if you do, then I thank you with all of my heart. Knowing you are there for Margaret brings me the greatest comfort.
Your brother,
Reggie
Ceecee tilted her head back, looking up at the sun to reassure herself that it was still there. She was light-headed and feverish and thought she might throw up. She wanted to dive into the cool water of the river, deeper and deeper until she’d run out of breath and simply let go of this world. “Are you going to marry Margaret, then?”
He let out a long breath. “Yes.” He closed his eyes for a moment. “I’ve gone over and over all the options with Margaret, and she’s turnedthem all down for one reason or another. She won’t give up the baby because it’s the only thing left of Reggie. I mentioned that you and I could raise the baby as ours, but she won’t hear of it. She’s adamant that the baby remain with her. She is the child’s mother.” He drew a long, shuddering breath. “Reggie is not only my brother, and the baby my niece or nephew, but I owe Reggie my life. I can’t ignore that. I don’t have a choice.”
“Of course you do,” Ceecee said, not caring about the desperation in her voice. “Reggie wouldn’t ask you to do this if he knew how we felt about each other.”
He was already shaking his head before she finished speaking. “It’s not Margaret or Reggie I’m thinking about. It’s the baby. The only hope for a future for that child is if I marry Margaret now and let the world believe that it’s mine. A healthy child is the one good thing that can come of all this. You see that, don’t you?”
Ceecee shook her head. “I want to. I do. But all I can see right now is a lifetime of emptiness, and Margaret walks away with everything. Just like she always has.” There. She’d said it. The words she’d thought for years. The truth of what her mother had been trying to tell her since they were children. “I’m sorry, Boyd. I know you think you’re doing the right thing, but you’re wrong. We belong together. You and me.” She didn’t care that her face was streaked with tears and mascara. Nothing mattered anymore. Nothing.
He took her hands in his and kissed them. “We do, Sessalee. We do belong together. But doing the easy thing is rarely the right thing. Think of the baby. Of that innocent life whose future depends on us.” He pressed his forehead against hers. “We can pretend the baby is ours—yours and mine. It will be the thing that we can share.”
She wrenched her hands away and shook her head. “It’s not enough, Boyd. You know it’s not enough.”
He put his hands behind her head and brought her face close to his. “It has to be, Sessalee. We’ll just have to make it be enough.”
Boyd reached up and tugged at her ponytail, setting loose the ribbon she’d put in it that morning that now felt like a million years ago. “What are you doing?” It didn’t sound like her voice any more thanshe felt like the same Sessalee Purnell she’d been when she’d put that ribbon in her hair.
“I’m putting a ribbon in the Tree of Dreams,” he said, drawing out a pen from his shirt pocket.
She stared at him uncomprehendingly.
He flattened the ribbon on his leg and began scribbling something on the fabric. Her gaze traveling to the black opening, she remembered the first ribbon she’d put in there, about her finding the perfect man. And how Margaret had written the same thing.
“Don’t.” Ceecee scrambled to her feet.
But Boyd had already stood and was stuffing the ribbon deep into the tree’s trunk. When he turned to look at her, beads of sweat covered his forehead. Ceecee grabbed his wrist and pulled him away from the tree. “What did it say?”
He looked at her as if he didn’t understand her question.
She tugged on his arm. “What did you write? On the ribbon?”
His eyes, dark and brooding, bored into hers. “‘I will love Sessalee Purnell until I die, and will hope every day that we will find a way to spend our lives together.’”
“Don’t, Boyd. Don’t say it if you don’t mean it. You can’t marry her and love me. You can’t have it both ways. We will both die inside trying.”
“I have to try, Sessalee. Because this is breaking my heart, too. I don’t believe in this stupid tree any more than you do, but I can’t imagine it will make our situation any worse.”
“No!” she shouted, straining forward toward the tree, desperate to pull out the ribbon. But Boyd held fast, wrapping his arms around her before pressing his lips against hers. She was lost for a moment, in his kiss and in the love she had for him, until the sound of the returning martins made her open her eyes to see the darkening sky filled with the rattle of birds coming home to roost.
•••
?When Ceecee returned to the house alone, Bitty was waiting for her on the porch swing, an ashtray full of cigarette butts at her feet. “I found more in Mr. Darlington’s study. Want one?”
Ceecee shook her head, listening as Boyd’s car disappeared down the drive, and tried to think about what she was supposed to do next but couldn’t. So she stood on the bottom step and looked up at Bitty. She opened her mouth to say something, to scream, or cry, but there was nothing left. She was an abandoned shell on the beach, whole and unscathed on the outside, but hollowed out and empty inside.
Bitty stood and took a step forward, her arms outstretched, but Ceecee shook her head, knowing that if she received one ounce of compassion, she’d start to cry and never be able to stop.
