Page 96 of Dreams of Falling
The nurse nodded. “If it’s all right with you, Doctor, I think I’m going to go home myself. I want to secure the shutters and bring in my flowerpots. My sister said the National Weather Bureau expects the hurricane to remain offshore, but I’d rather be safe than sorry.” She looked again at Ceecee. “Unless you’d like me to stay a little longer.”
“That won’t be necessary. I’ll see Miss Purnell out and lock up the office. Remember that I’m at the hospital for the next two nights, maybe longer if the storm gets bad. I’ll call in for any messages.”
The nurse nodded, then exited, leaving the door open behind her. Boyd picked up the phone on the desk and tried calling Margaret, but there was no answer. He hung up slowly. “I wanted you to go with her and Ivy. She could use your company.”
Ceecee looked at him, alarmed. “Is Ivy all right with Margaret?”
He shook his head. “She loves Ivy. She’d never do anything to compromise her daughter’s safety. It’s just that Margaret’s so sad all the time. It can affect her judgment.” He shrugged. “I’d feel better knowing you were with them.”
Ceecee almost sighed with relief. She couldn’t imagine being forced to spend time with Margaret for the car trip and however many days the visit stretched out.
Except she’d be with Ivy. The one good and beautiful thing to come out of this untenable situation. “It’s too late—she’s already gone. And I’d hate to get anyone else sick, especially the baby.” She forced a smile. “Bitty is supposed to be coming home today for a short visit. Imagine how annoyed she’d be to find out that both Margaret and I had deserted her.”
Ceecee turned and headed back to the lobby, babbling now in hereffort to keep her emotions intact. They were suspended from a weblike strand, susceptible to breaking from one more look from Boyd.
The nurse had already gone, the desk empty, a cloth pulled over the typewriter. Ceecee reached the door and put her hand on the knob. She’d almost made it outside when Boyd spoke.
“Margaret thinks we’re having an affair.”
She stopped, keeping her gaze trained on the frosted glass of the door. “What did you tell her?”
“The truth. That I would never dishonor her. Or you.” He paused, and she could feel his warm breath on her hair. “But I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t still love you. I’ve tried to stop, but I can’t.”
She didn’t turn around, knowing if she did, all would be lost. “Good-bye, Boyd. Stay safe.” She twisted the knob and yanked the door open, then fought the wind to slam it shut behind her. Bullets of rain stung her face, reminding her that she’d left her umbrella in the office. She didn’t bother with her rain hat, and kept walking without any direction until her hair was plastered to her face, her skirt clinging to her legs.
Eventually she stopped, out of breath, looked up at the darkening sky with its layers of billowing gray clouds, and felt her heart echoing the atmospheric turmoil of the hurricane brewing out in the Atlantic.
thirty-two
Larkin
2010
We stepped from the air-conditioned car and were slapped in the face with what felt like a wet towel. It was just after seven o’clock in the evening, but the temperature still hovered close to eighty, and the air dripped with moisture. A heavy cloud cover blanketed the sky, obliterating any possible stars and the moon and hugging the humidity close to the ground.
We began to walk the block to King Street, which had been closed off for the festival, and where a large dance tent had been set up. I stuck by Mabry’s side, leaving Bennett to walk with Jonathan.
You look as if you’re wearing moonlight.I couldn’t erase the words from my head, or the way he’d looked when he said them. Or the way they’d made me feel. He was Bennett, and he shouldn’t be saying things like that to me. It was as if we were in the second half of a football game and all of a sudden the rules had changed.
“Don’t worry about your hair, Larkin,” Mabry said, interrupting my thoughts. “I used about a can of humidity-defying hair spray. It won’t budge, no matter how much you dance.”
“Seriously? Because I already feel as if I’ve been swimming.” I placed my palm against the side of my head.
“No worries,” she said, pulling a black elastic hair tie from her wrist and handing it to me. “I always have a plan B.”
I slid it on my own wrist with a laugh and stopped, looking down at my heels. “And when did you say we could switch to our dancing shoes?”
“After we make our grand entrance, remember?”
“Do you really think it’s going to matter, Mabry?” Jonathan asked with a grin. “We’re probably going to be the youngest people there. I’m thinking you could walk in barefoot and wearing sackcloth and not many would be able to tell unless they got close enough to see better.”
Mabry smacked him playfully on the arm. “Don’t be rude. Just because it’s organized by the Rotary Club and benefits Alzheimer’s doesn’t mean it excludes those under thirty. Besides, they say you have twenty-twenty vision after cataract surgery, so don’t you be challenging anyone to a duel.”
“Have you been before?” I asked. The Shag Festival was new—at least to me. It didn’t exist when I lived in Georgetown. If it had, I’d have attended every year and danced until my feet bled, spurred by Ceecee’s confidence and my love of dancing. I would have danced with whoever asked me or by myself. I’d have worn an outrageous outfit and bad makeup, and I wouldn’t have thought to think I was making a spectacle of myself.
“We’ve been a couple of times,” Mabry said. “This is the fifth Shag Festival, and it seems to get bigger every year. My parents usually come, but tonight they’re our designated babysitters.” She slipped her arm through Jonathan’s and squeezed it against her side. “There are advantages to living near your parents.”
With Mabry and Jonathan walking together, Bennett fell into step beside me. Neither of us spoke.
