Page 115 of Dreams of Falling
Bitty went very still.
“I found Tootsie Roll wrappers folded in the blanket with Ivy and me. I know only one person who eats those.”
Bitty put her cigarette in her mouth in a casual way, but Ceecee could see her hand shaking. After a moment, she said, “They must have fallen out of my pocket when I leaned over to cover you both better with the blanket.”
“So youwerethere. Ivy’s mural showed you in the house.” Ceecee took a deep breath, trying to find the strength to say the next words. “Did you set the fire?”
Bitty looked outraged. “Me? No. I never went inside. When I got there, Carrowmore was already on fire, and you and Ivy were under the magnolia tree under the blanket. There was nothing else I could do, so I tried to pull the blanket up higher. That’s all.”
Ceecee shook her head. “I don’t understand. Why would Ivy paint you inside the house?”
“I don’t know. Maybe just to show I was there. After the storm passed, I decided to go to Carrowmore to find you. You can’t imagine how I felt when I saw the house on fire. The roads had a lot of water on them, and I was afraid I’d get stuck in the mud, so I left my car on the side of the road and ran through the woods—that’s how I found you and Ivy. I have no idea how Ivy knew I was there that night—I left before the fire truck arrived. I didn’t want them to ask any questions.”
“But why?” Ceecee said. “If you had nothing to hide, why wouldn’t you stay?”
Bitty’s eyes narrowed. “Have you ever wondered why you’ve kept the secret of the candy wrappers all these years?”
Ceecee didn’t hesitate. “No. I never told anyone because you’re my friend. My sister. And if you had set the fire, I thought you might have done it for me.”
“But I didn’t.” Bitty was watching her closely, as if waiting for Ceecee to ask the right question.
“It was an accident,” Ceecee said. “From a candle. There were lit candles down in the white parlor, and one in my bedroom. I don’t remember if I blew out my candle before I went to bed.” She paused for a moment. “I took some sleeping pills. That’s why I don’t remember.”
“And you don’t remember how you got outside.”
Ceecee shook her head. “No. Just... flashes. A memory of flying.”
Bitty continued to look at her, willing Ceecee to say the next thing. Finally, Bitty said, “I called Boyd at the hospital that night. I told him that you’d gone to Carrowmore.”
Ceecee closed her eyes, nodded. “Ivy’s mural. She painted him in the house, too. So he was there.”
“He was,” Bitty said. “I saw him. In his car, driving away just as I arrived. He didn’t see me—or at least he never mentioned it, so I assumed he hadn’t.”
Ceecee remembered the sensation of flying, of strong arms around her, the sound of footsteps. Of course it hadn’t been Bitty carrying her out of the house. She was too small, too slight. Ceecee had never really believed it, but it had kept her busy enough that she hadn’t had to consider the truth. It had been Boyd who tucked her and Ivy safely out of the way of the fire. And then left before anyone could know it had been him. There was only one reason why he would have run away. Ceecee had to search to find her voice. “You never told anyone.”
“Of course not.” Bitty sounded almost angry. “For the same reason you never told anyone about the candy wrappers.” She blew smoke up toward the ceiling and laughed. “It’s kind of funny when you think about it. We’ve both been keeping secrets from each other all these years, holding each other at arm’s length just in case the other sniffed too close to the truth.”
Ceecee glared at her friend. “I’m glad you find this amusing. Because I find it upsetting that the man I loved just about my whole life was probably a murderer.”
Bitty sobered. “Or not. We have no proof, nor do we have proof of what candle may or may not have started the fire—although the fire report did say they thought it started downstairs.” She leaned forward. “And isn’t that what love is? Giving someone the benefit of the doubt?”
Ceecee thought of the gentle man she’d married, the doctor with the warm and sincere bedside manner, the man who’d never raised his voice to anyone. She couldn’t believe he’d committed murder. She wouldn’t believe it. “You’re wrong,” she said out loud. “Love isn’tabout doubting. Love is knowing something is true deep in your heart despite all evidence to the contrary. I never believed you could have done something to Margaret. Lord knows you’ve got a mean streak a mile wide, but I could never see you killing someone, no matter how much you thought it was justified.”
Bitty started to laugh, but it turned into another racking cough, making her whole body shudder with the effort.
Ceecee stood in front of her friend, waiting for it to subside. “It’s not just acute bronchitis, is it?”
For a moment it looked as if Bitty would deny it before she realized that it was pointless to lie to the one person in the world who knew her better than she knew herself. She gave one short nod. “Lung cancer. Stage two.”
Ceecee looked at her matter-of-factly. “And you’re still smoking.”
“Yep. I’ve tried giving it up, but I can’t.”
Ceecee reached over and snatched the pack of cigarettes, crushing it in her hand. “You can now. I’m going to help you quit. And then I’m going to help you get better.”
Bitty sat up. “Give those back.”
“Nope. They’re going in the garbage. You’re quitting today.”
