Page 83 of Dreams of Falling
Ceecee thought for a moment, frowning down at Margaret. “If it’s a girl, I want you to name her Ivy.”
“But that’s the name you always said you would give your daughter if you ever had one.”
“Yes, it is. But it doesn’t look like I’ll be getting married and having my own children now, does it?”
Fresh tears oozed from Margaret’s blue eyes. “I’m sorry, Ceecee. I’m so very sorry. I know how inadequate the word is, but I hope in time that you will find it in your heart to forgive me.”
Ceecee pulled her chin up. “It’s not me you have to wait to forgive you.”
“What do you mean?”
“Boyd’s the one who will have to live with you for the rest of your lives. You’d better hope he finds it in his heart to forgive you. And himself.”
Margaret straightened her shoulders. “I can make him happy. I can be a good wife to him.”
Ceecee took a step forward, pointing her finger at Margaret’s chest. “Don’t you ever say that to me again. Do you understand? I will be a part of your life because of the child, but I will never, ever think of you and Boyd as husband and wife. I will never see you that way. Because he was never meant to be yours.”
Margaret pressed her back against the headboard to create distance between them, but she didn’t lower her gaze. It was as if for the first time they saw something new in each other, something that equalized their standing. Something unexpected and just as terrifying.
Ceecee stepped back. “I’m going downstairs to tell the maid to bring the food back, and I will stay to watch you eat every last bite. This babywillbe born healthy and strong, and I will come here every single day to make sure of it.”
She began walking toward the bedroom door, stopping when Margaret spoke again.
“I didn’t mean for this to happen, Ceecee. I loved Reggie with all my heart. If it weren’t for his baby, I’d happily die. If I could bring him back, you know I would.”
Ceecee turned to look at Margaret. Softly, she said, “So would I.” Then she left the room, the door closing behind her with a soft click.
twenty-eight
Larkin
2010
I sat at the nearly empty counter at Gabriel’s ice-cream shop, slowly sipping at my Brown Cow. Music played from the speakers, and I gave Gabriel a questioning look. “‘Runnin’ Down a Dream’ by Tom Petty. Definitely eighties. What’s up with that?”
He shrugged. “It’s Tom Petty. One of the few who are allowed to share a playlist with the classics.”
I laughed, looking around the store. Being here was a welcome break; I continued to do my job remotely, with almost daily reassurances to my boss that I would be back soon. As Gabriel finished with a few customers, my gaze settled on the mural. Recalling what Mabry had told me about my mother always hiding a small image, I climbed off the stool and moved closer. But all I saw was what I’d seen before, the tree and the river, and the three girls with their backs to the artist. It was a beautiful, peaceful scene, yet there was something about the colors used for the background, and the visible strokes of the artist’s brush, that agitated the image. Like shaking a snow globe distorts the picture inside.
I stepped back to get a different perspective, seeing for the first time a nearly hidden edge, tucked into the back corner of the room. I putmy glass on the counter and moved away a table and two chairs to see it better. There, in the crease where one wall ended and another began, was Carrowmore, painted as it must have once been, with its graceful columns and still-intact roof. This hidden picture was larger than the other ones I’d seen, making it easier to make out the details. I leaned forward. In a first-floor window, a fork of orange-yellow flames shot out from the shattered frame. Behind the flame, a shadowy figure was barely visible—the shape of a woman with red hair.
I jerked back, as if I’d just seen something obscene.
“Are you all right?” Gabriel put his hands on my shoulders, steadying me.
“I’m not sure,” I said. “Look.” I pointed to the corner.
Gabriel whistled softly. “Never saw that. Your mama came in not too long ago, said she needed to add a few details. I got busy with customers and didn’t see what she was doing, and she left before I could ask what she’d added.”
“Do you remember when that was?” I asked.
He thought for a moment. “Yeah—either the day before or maybe the morning of her accident.”
I stepped closer again, trying to see if I might have missed any other details. There was another blurry image in an upstairs window, and I squinted to see it better. There were flames in the background here, too, but pressed against the window frame were the blurred faces of two women, both blond.
“I can’t believe this was here all this time and I never noticed.” Gabriel shook his head. “One thing she did tell me while she was painting it the first time was that she was trying to paint her nightmare so that it would be stuck on the wall and out of her head. She didn’t want to answer any of my questions, so I didn’t press her to explain. I wish I had.”
“Me, too.”
