Page 53 of Dreams of Falling
We walked without talking for an entire block, me hanging on to his arm to keep going in a straight line. As soon as we got past the historic district and the street became more residential, we moved to the grassy yards of the homes we passed to give my feet a break.
I stopped in the middle of one of the yards, enjoying the damp coolness of the grass. I looked up at Bennett as if I’d just invented something important. “I haven’t gone barefoot in years—not a good idea in the city, you know? But there’s something nice about it—feeling the ground beneath your feet. Reminds me of the old me, I guess.”
“Good,” he said, his voice so quiet, I wasn’t completely sure he’d spoken.
We walked in silence until we reached Ceecee’s house. I had to lean on Bennett’s arm to climb the steps. The porch lights were on, andCeecee had kept the front door open, with just the screened door closed to keep out the bugs.
Bennett handed me my shoes. “Do you want me to make sure you can climb the stairs all right?”
I shook my head. “I’m sure Ceecee is lurking inside, so I’ll be okay.” Then I remembered my manners again and added, “But thanks.”
“I’m pretty sure you won’t remember this in the morning, so I’ll call to remind you, but I wanted to let you know that Dr. Wallen-Arasi wants to come out on Friday morning to see Carrowmore and give us her professional opinion.” He looked at me closely as if deciding whether to say anything more. “Also, my mother was getting ready for a garage sale and found a couple boxes of old files and newspapers that had belonged to my granddaddy. There’re a few things in there you might want to see.”
I hadn’t really been listening, just enjoying the cool river breeze and the sound of his voice. It didn’t appear that Bennett was expecting an answer, so I didn’t say anything. The walk had cleared my head to a certain degree; instead of swimming, the world rocked gently, like a docked boat in a safe harbor. I looked up at Bennett, enjoying the calming sensation of being rocked, and felt his arms around me again.
“You’re going to fall over if you keep leaning backward.” His smile belied the sternness of his voice.
I decided I liked the feel of his hands on my waist, so I kept leaning backward, studying his face. “You’re not too hard on the eyes, Bennett Lynch. And in the morning I’ll probably regret having said this, but I think you’re funny and smart and fun to be with. How come some girl hasn’t laid claim to you yet?” I pulled back as another thought crossed my mind. “You’re not gay, are you?”
His mouth twitched, and I noticed how nice his lips were, how full and well formed and probably great to kiss. “No, Larkin. I’m not gay.”
“Not that there’s anything wrong with that,” I said earnestly.
“No,” he said. “But I’m not.” He was definitely smiling now, but when I peered at him in the dim glow of the porch lights, his eyes seemed sad.
“So, there’s no one special in your life right now?”
He sighed, his breath warm on my face. “There is, but I don’t think she knows I’m the perfect man for her.”
“Well, maybe you should introduce us so I can talk some sense into her.”
“Yeah. Maybe I will.”
We were standing very close, with his arms around me. My gaze drifted to his mouth again, to those lips of his.
“You should go inside now,” he said.
“Hmm,” I murmured.
He leaned toward me and I closed my eyes, surprised to feel the soft brush of his lips on my forehead before he stepped back, moving his hands to my shoulders. “Here, let me help you.”
He opened the screened door and with a gentle pressure on my back, pushed me inside, then placed my shoes neatly on the floor. “Good night, Larkin. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
As he walked away I watched through the screen, listening to his footsteps cross the porch and move down the steps, and wondered why I suddenly felt so bereft.
eighteen
Ivy
2010
“Mama?”
Larkin waits, as if expecting me to answer. And I try; I really do. I focus on the big toe of my right foot, putting all my effort into just making one movement. According to one of the articles Ceecee found on the Internet, that’s where all coma patients have to start—with moving their big toe. I think. I wasn’t really listening; I was paying attention instead to Ceecee’s face, and to how much I associate it with love. It was her face that calmed me when things were bad after Ellis left.
And I keep thinking about my memory—or was it a dream?—of being carried out of the fire, and looking up into the face of the person who’d saved me. The smoke blocks my vision, but the arms holding me hug me close and I feel safe.
As with all mothers and daughters, we had our struggles. But after the accident and my being in this room, the hard edges of my resentment have softened like butter left on the counter. The softer I feel, the fuzzier the ceiling of my room becomes, like I’ve found a part of the combination to spring me loose. I just need to figure out the rest of it.
