Page 45 of Dreams of Falling
Bitty stared at her, unblinking. “Besides the obvious?” She started to laugh, but it came out more like a bark. “If she knows, she didn’t find out from me, and if you didn’t tell her, then it’s impossible. We should tell her, though, when she wakes up. Not that it will make any difference, of course.”
Ceecee took a gulp of her coffee, scalding her tongue. “I’ve only wanted the best for Ivy—you know that. To protect her from all the hurts life can throw at you. But somehow, I failed. Except for when she was with Ellis and after Larkin was born, I’ve never seen her truly happy.”
Unexpectedly, Bitty reached over and squeezed her hand. “I don’t think Margaret could have done any different, if that makes you feel better. And I think she would have approved of the choices you’ve made.”
“But do you think she would have forgiven me?” Ceecee hadn’t meant to say that, to blurt out those words she’d never spoken out loud before.
“For what?” Bitty asked, her brown eyes still as dark and probing as they’d been when they were girls.
Ceecee looked away, wanting to ask Bitty about her coughing or anything other than her question. She lifted her chin and met her friend’s gaze. “For not saving her.”
Bitty squeezed her hand again, then stood, her coffee untouched. “But you saved her baby, and for that I know she’d be grateful. I hope you know that.”
Ceecee nodded without looking up, something thick and unrelenting blocking her throat.
Bitty grabbed her cigarettes and lighter. “I’m headed to the hospital. I expect I’ll see you there at some point.”
Ceecee nodded slowly. “She’s still there, you know. Our Ivy. She’s lying there without moving or speaking, but I can tell she’s there. And she’s listening, and I know she’s trying to communicate. I just don’t know how I’m supposed to hear her. It’s like when she was a little girl and having her nightmares, and there was nothing I could do to help her.”
“She’ll need your help when she wakes up. She’ll need all of us. And we’ll be there for her.”
“But what if she doesn’t?” Ceecee forced the words out, her voice barely audible so that only her oldest friend could hear her unacceptable doubt.
“She will,” Bitty said with conviction. “She’s a Darlington. Remember what Margaret used to tell us? Something about Darlingtons setting the sun and the moon in the sky so that light always shone upon them. There’s been an eclipse for a long time, but it’s about to be over. I can feel it.”
Ceecee sat up and straightened her shoulders, taking in Bitty’s wide gauzy pants and worn leather sandals, a hundred paint flecks giving them color. It made her realize how much of Bitty was in Ivy, too. How both Ceecee and Bitty had honored their friend by being the best mothers to Margaret’s daughter that they knew how. But if Ceecee had learned anything in the intervening years since Margaret’s death, it was that a thousand good intentions could never tip the scale over one unforgivable mistake.
“I hope you’re right,” Ceecee said. “Because I don’t know how I’ll survive if something happens to Ivy.”
Bitty gripped her box of cigarettes tightly, the sound of crumpled cardboard overruling the whirring of a cicada in a magnolia at the edge of the garden. “You’ll survive, Ceecee. All the love you keep inside your heart holds you up and forces you to go on. It’s how you’ve always made it through, and I can’t see it deserting you now.”
Bitty made to leave, but Ceecee called out to her. “What about you? What makes you keep moving forward when things are so dark?”
Bitty looked down at her crumpled cigarettes as if just realizing what she was holding. “Regret,” she said, her voice raspy.
“Regret? Regret for what?”
Bitty met Ceecee’s gaze. “For a lot of things. Mostly for not being strong enough to tell Margaret no when that’s what she needed to hear.” She turned and left without waiting for a response, her hacking cough eventually cut off by the slamming of her car door.
Ceecee picked up her coffee cup and took a sip, not caring that it had grown cool. She needed something to hold on to, something to keep her hands steady. She thought about what Bitty had said about the Darlingtons and the moon and the sun. Ceecee took another sip, then closed her eyes and remembered.
•••
Ceecee
1951
The last notes of “Let It Roll Again” drifted out on the dance floor as the couples, sweating and laughing, collapsed onto one another and slowly made their way to the stairs leading down from the top floor of the Pavilion. After two weeks of being together every day, it was their last night in Myrtle Beach, and Ceecee found herself clinging tighter to Boyd’s arm as he led her outside into the cooler air.
“I wish we didn’t have to leave,” she said, embarrassingly close to tears. “I don’t know how I can face tomorrow without seeing you.”
He lifted her chin with his finger. “We’ll be together again soon,” he said, sealing the deal with a gentle kiss on her lips. “We’ve already talked about this, Sessalee. I just need a week to go home for a bit, and see my parents, and talk to them about my plans.”
“Which include moving to Georgetown.” Ceecee didn’t make it a question because she simply couldn’t imagine it any other way.
He smiled indulgently. “I’ve already sent a letter to Dr. Griffith and have asked my supervising doctor who oversaw my internship to forward a letter of recommendation to him. I expect a reply to be waiting for me when I get home to Charleston.”
Ceecee felt so giddy, she wanted to jump up and down, but she didn’t want to appear childish. Boyd was older than she was, had been to war and graduated from medical school. She needed to give at leastthe outer appearance of being wiser than her years. “I know Mr. Darlington will say wonderful things about you, too. They’re old family friends. All the more reason for you to hurry and come to Georgetown.”
