Dreams of Falling

by Karen White

  Laughing, Ceecee jumped up from the dressing table. She felt self-conscious in the violet pedal pushers she’d borrowed from Margaret, but secretly pleased, too. She had long, elegant legs like Margaret, and the pants showed them off. Her mother would take to her bed with a headache if she could see her, but there was no chance of that, thank goodness. She closed her eyes, concentrating on her resolve to enjoy herself for the next two weeks without regret or self-recrimination. She’d have the rest of her life for that.

  There was a knock on the door, and the three women looked at one another with varying degrees of surprise. “It can’t be Boyd,” Ceecee said with confidence. “I didn’t tell him our address, and I told him I’d meet him at the Pavilion.”

  “Don’t look at me,” Bitty said. “What about you, Margaret? Did you tell Reggie where you were staying?”

  Margaret’s blue eyes widened in horror. “Oh, my gosh. I did. But surely he wouldn’t . . .”

  Bitty dropped to her knees and crawled to the bedroom window that faced their street and moved aside the curtain. “It’s Reggie!” she said in a loud whisper. She quickly crawled toward the unmade bed and grabbed the silk wrap from the bottom. It belonged to Margaret’s aunt Dorothy, but Margaret had been wearing it, and the matching silk pajamas, swearing her aunt wouldn’t mind. “Throw this on,” she hissed. “I’ll get the door. And I suggest running a brush through your hair. You look like something the cat dragged in.”

  As Ceecee helped Margaret into the robe, they listened as Bitty opened the door and pretended to be surprised. “Oh, it’s . . . I’m sorry, I think I’ve forgotten your name. From the Ocean Forest, right?”

  “It’s Reginald Madsen—Reggie to my friends. Is this where Margaret Darlington is staying? I’m pretty sure this is the address.”

  “Yes, but . . .”

  “I wanted to make sure Margaret is all right. She was . . . wasn’t feeling well when she left last night, and I feel responsible. I brought her some flowers. Is it all right if I come in? I’d like to see her in person and apologize, and give these to her if possible.”

  “I really don’t think she’s in any state . . .”

  Ceecee tried to hold Margaret back, but her grip easily slipped on the silk sleeves of Margaret’s robe. As she tightened the tie around her slim waist, she slid on small kitten-heeled slippers with soft fur balls at the toes, then walked casually out into the main room like a movie star, Ceecee close behind. “Did I hear somebody at the door?” she asked, feigning a yawn and stretching her arms over her head.

  “Just for a minute . . . ,” Reggie began, but then stopped when he spotted Margaret stretching, outlining her breasts against the silk of her pajamas and robe.

  At that moment another figure stepped out from behind Reggie. Although he was just as tall as his younger brother, Bitty must have missed spotting him because he’d been standing to the side, out of view.

  “Boyd,” Ceecee said, her voice laced with surprise. “I thought we were meeting at the Pavilion.” She moved toward the door, blocking the men’s view of Margaret in her state of undress.

  “I know, but then Reggie said he was coming here. I knew you and Margaret were together, so I decided to come along. And if Margaret is feeling better, maybe we could all go—including Bitty, of course.”

  Bitty took a drag of her cigarette and watched the smoke rings rise to the ceiling, dissipating slowly like little dreams. “Gee, thanks. I’m honored.”

  Ceecee sent her a quelling glance before turning back to Boyd. “Well, I’m already dressed, and I don’t think Margaret is feeling well enough . . .”

  “Don’t be such a wet blanket, Ceecee,” Margaret said as she stepped out from behind Ceecee and extended her hand. “I’m feeling fit as a fiddle after such a good sleep. And you must be the same Boyd that Ceecee has been talking about nonstop since last night. I’m Margaret Darlington.”

  Ceecee watched as Boyd grasped the tips of Margaret’s fingers and squeezed. “It’s a pleasure meeting you, Margaret Darlington.”

  Ceecee watched his eyes as he took in Margaret’s face and tall, lean figure; she watched at the way his eyes didn’t change and how he dropped her fingers quickly. She wasn’t ready to let out a sigh of relief quite yet, thinking about how sometimes a person could get exposed to a cold or some other infectious horror and not develop symptoms for a week.

  Margaret turned her attention to Reggie, whose eyes darkened as he watched Margaret approach, each curve of her body clearly outlined with each step. As she looked at Margaret standing next to Reggie, Ceecee thought they seemed to have been carved from the same block of marble, each as beautiful and physically perfect as the other. Boyd was decidedly handsome, but Reggie had an air of power and purpose around him that probably affected Margaret like catnip would a cat.

  Margaret batted her eyelashes up at him. “And aren’t you just darling to bring me flowers.” She took the bouquet of red roses from him and delicately sniffed the petals. “These smell just divine.” She graced everyone with one of her wide smiles. “Just give me a moment to put these in a vase with water and throw on some clothes, and we’ll all head out to the Pavilion and have some fun.”

  Everyone watched her retreat toward the kitchen except Ceecee, who watched Boyd, noticing how his eyes seemed reluctantly pulled in Margaret’s direction before he jerked his gaze back to Ceecee and smiled.

  An hour and a half later, they piled into Margaret’s car—because Reggie’s car wasn’t a convertible and the day was too pretty, according to Margaret—and drove to the Pavilion and the attached boardwalk and amusement park. Bitty sat up front with Margaret while Ceecee sat in the middle of the backseat between Reggie and Boyd. After they were settled, Boyd’s hand found hers and held it the entire short ride, making Ceecee want to weep with joy or relief—she wasn’t sure which.

  “Let’s go on the carousel first!” Margaret announced as she waited for Reggie to open her door for her and rewarded him with a warm smile. “It’s very famous, you know—all hand-carved wooden animals, and they just brought it here from Alabama. There’s a blue sea dragon with a gold mane, and I’m riding on that one first.” She turned to face Ceecee. “Did you bring your camera? Because I must get a photograph of us all on the carousel.”

  “Of course,” she said, patting it in its case around her neck as they stood in front of the carousel with its red-and-white-striped awning, its short stature nearly eclipsed by the tall Ferris wheel next to it. “I say we start with that instead,” Bitty said, pointing to it. “So we can get a bird’s-eye view of the entire boardwalk and Pavilion. Not everybody has been coming here since we were children.” She looked pointedly at Margaret.

  Margaret shrugged. “Fine by me,” she said as she tucked her hand possessively into the crook of Reggie’s arm.

  He offered his other arm to Bitty, but she shook her head. “Before we get on the Ferris wheel, I’m going to get some cotton candy. I’m famished since we had to wait so long to leave the house. Would anybody else like to get some? Margaret, I know how much you love it.”

  Margaret’s face blanched, most likely due to her stomach not being completely back to normal after the previous evening, despite Bitty’s efforts to stuff her full of bread that morning, hoping to soak it all up. “I’m not really hungry, so I’ll pass, but I know Ceecee would love some, wouldn’t you?”

  Ceecee did love cotton candy, but also knew she’d be wearing it all over her face by the time she finished hers. It had never bothered her before, but she’d never tried to impress a boy, either. Her stomach rumbled, but she pressed her hand against it to make it stop. “I’m not hungry, either, but we’ll go with you—I’m sure Boyd and Reggie might like some.”

  They headed over to the vendor, and while they were waiting in line, Boyd turned to her. “I’m guessing Ceecee is your nickname?”

  She nodded, her stomach rumbling louder now th
at she could smell the spun sugar. “Yes, everyone except my mama and daddy call me Ceecee. Sessalee is my real name.”

  “It suits you.” He smiled, his eyes crinkling and his cheeks creasing in a way she already found endearing. “Would you mind if I continued to call you by your full name?”

  “Not at all. Especially if it means you’re speaking to me.” She blushed at her outrageous flirting, wondering what he must be thinking of her.

  He threw back his head and laughed. “I like a woman who says what she thinks. My mother would like you. She’s never been one for those silly girls who only say what they think you want to hear.”

  She smiled openly up at him. “I hope you’re not saying I remind you of your mother.”

  He pretended to think. “That wouldn’t be a bad thing, but no, I’m not. Unless it’s okay if I call you both smart women.”

  He handed money to the pimply teen behind the counter and received two gigantic cotton candies in return. “I know you said you didn’t want any, but I don’t think I could stand to hear your stomach grumbling without feeding you something. Besides, Bitty told me it’s your favorite.”

  “Thank you,” she said, inhaling the sweet smell but unsure of where to bite it. She would die if she had dried cotton candy stuck to her nose and cheeks for the rest of the day.

  As if he’d read her mind, he took a big bite out of his own, the pink confection clinging to the beard bristles on his chin. “There,” he said. “Now we’ll be even.” He handed her a napkin. “I’ll keep your face clean, and you can repay the favor.” He stood closer and said quietly, “But if you get some stuck to your lips, I have a much more interesting way to remove it.”

  Looking into his eyes, she moistened her lips, then took a big bite out of her cotton candy and smiled up at him.

  “Well, now, if that isn’t a challenge.” He leaned down and touched his lips softly to hers, his tongue flicking over her lips. Lifting his head, he closed his eyes. “I do think that’s the sweetest cotton candy I’ve ever had.”

  She laughed as Bitty grabbed her arm and pulled her away. “Don’t make it too easy for him, Ceecee,” she said as she led them toward the Ferris wheel. They rode it three times, the last time Boyd riding with Bitty so she wouldn’t feel left out. Ceecee waited at the bottom, enjoying the smells of roasting hot dogs and popcorn, and the sounds of laughing children and excited young people shouting boasts to one another as they took their chances at Skee-Ball and water gun races. A row of benches had been set up along the boardwalk facing the rides where exhausted parents sat with small children and forgotten stuffed animals as the older children ran from activity to activity.

  Ceecee allowed herself to daydream of her future self with her own children, visiting on a family vacation, eating cotton candy, and letting Boyd kiss the sticky candy from her lips. Someone grabbed her hand and pulled her down the boardwalk. “Come on!” Bitty shouted. “We’re going on the Comet!”

  Ceecee looked back at Margaret to see what she thought about riding the roller coaster that they’d been told was nicknamed the “vomit Comet,” but Margaret was occupied staring up into Reggie’s eyes.

  “Disgusting, isn’t it?” Boyd said as he caught up with her and took her arm.

  “Absolutely,” Ceecee agreed. “Because I can see a whole quarter of an inch between them. If she really liked him, there wouldn’t be any space at all.”

  Boyd chuckled and drew her against his side. “Like this?”

  She nodded. “Exactly.”

  They stayed at the boardwalk for the rest of the afternoon, riding all the rides, including the kiddie rides and bumper cars, and Boyd always making sure that he saved a ride to go on with Bitty. Margaret sat for a charcoal drawing that even Bitty admitted wasn’t half-bad. Margaret rolled it carefully and gave it to Reggie with a small kiss.

  “We’ll have to hang this in the White House when we get there,” he said. “I’ll be sure to put it in a safe place until then.”

  It was such a boastful thing to say, but coming from Reggie Madsen, it sounded nothing less than sincere and prophetic. And it made Margaret glow.

  They stuffed themselves on hot dogs and popcorn, then went to the photo booth to have their pictures made behind cardboard cutouts of fat and skinny swimmers (Ceecee and Bitty), and behind the half-moon depicting Miss Myrtle Beach (Margaret). Ceecee’s favorite was the one of Boyd and Reggie at the Myrtle Beach jail, wearing matching expressions of blatantly false misery.

  Afterward, as they sat at an outdoor table finishing their ice-cream cones, Ceecee slid her feet out of her sandals under the table. They were Margaret’s and too small, and she thought she’d have permanent scars from where the straps bit into her skin. She almost sighed out loud, hiding it instead in a bite of her ice cream.

  Boyd turned his attention to Bitty as she sat back and lit a cigarette. “Sessalee tells me you’re going to school to study art. You must be excited.”

  Bitty nodded, looking surprised but pleased to be the center of attention. To show him how she appreciated it, Ceecee squeezed Boyd’s hand where it sat on her armrest.

  Bitty turned her head to blow out smoke. “I am. My father thinks I should also get a teaching degree so that I can teach art and have a steady income, so I’m thinking about it.” She pointed her cigarette at Boyd and then at Reggie. “What about you two? What are your plans?”

  “I’m planning on starting a medical practice in Charleston,” Boyd said, looking a lot less excited about it than he had when he’d first told Ceecee his plans.

  Margaret sat up and folded her hands on the table. “You know, Boyd, Dr. Griffith has been our family physician in Georgetown since Mama was a baby, but he’s getting ready to retire. He always planned to have his son take over the practice, but poor Donny got killed in the war. I think you should talk to him. Just in case Charleston isn’t sounding as appealing as it used to.” She winked at Ceecee, who looked down at her lap to hide her blush.

  Boyd squeezed her hand. “I might just have to do that, Margaret. Thank you.”

  “And you?” Bitty asked, indicating Reggie. “What are you going to do?”

  “He’s going to practice law in Charleston,” Margaret said proudly, as if she’d been the one to earn the degree.

  “Eventually.” Avoiding looking at Margaret, he continued. “But I’m planning on enlisting in the army first. I can’t sit back and watch what’s going on in Korea without doing my part.”

  Margaret went very still, but Reggie kept talking. “I’m a few years younger than this old guy,” he said, elbowing Boyd, “so I didn’t get the chance to serve my country in the last war. I feel I need to earn my stripes somehow, to prove myself before I become a public servant. I’ve got big plans for my future. Very big plans. Which is why I need to do this now.”

  Margaret stood suddenly and walked away without a word. Reggie immediately jumped up and followed her, leaving the three of them sitting in stunned silence.

  “Well, I guess he hadn’t mentioned that to Margaret before.”

  Ceecee grabbed Boyd’s hand with both of hers. “Can you talk to him? Tell him it’s a bad idea?”

  Boyd shook his head slowly. “It’s not my place. When I enlisted in ’forty-three, I was just a little bit younger than Reggie is now. I understand how he feels. And I didn’t have a sweetheart at the time, but my mother was pretty upset. She thought I should wait until I was called up, to let it be in God’s hands. But once a man makes up his mind to do something, it’s too late to change it.”

  “Don’t say that.” Ceecee pressed her forehead against his shoulder, imagining herself in Margaret’s place.

  “They’ll work it out,” Boyd reassured her. “Reggie is a good man—one of the best. He’s smart and ambitious. Our father always said it was like he had two elder sons.” He grinned. “Reggie saved my life once, when we were boys. We used to rent a
house on Folly Beach each summer. I went out too far and couldn’t swim back, and he came out and got me even though I was the stronger swimmer. I thought we were both going to drown. So, yes, I trust Reggie to do the right thing—whether or not it’s what we think is the right thing.”

  Boyd placed his arm around her shoulders. “We have tonight and almost two weeks together. Let’s enjoy it.” He squeezed her, then let her go before standing up. “You two go find a spot for us to watch the fireworks on the Pavilion. I’ll go find Reggie and Margaret and come find you.”

  Ceecee nodded, fighting the feeling of panic at the thought of his leaving her, even for a short while, then acknowledged the nudge of excitement at the thought of his taking over for Dr. Griffith in Georgetown. Her mother had always told her that if she fixated on something she wanted to happen, it wouldn’t because vanity and joy seeking weren’t things that God rewarded. Instead, Ceecee pushed the thought from her mind and left the table with Bitty to find a good vantage point along the boardwalk.

  By the time they’d found places on a bench to watch the evening’s fireworks, Ceecee’s face hurt from so much smiling and laughing throughout the day, and she promised herself that she would never regret one single moment. Nor would she tell her mother about any of it, so that she’d never have shadows encroaching on these memories.

  While Bitty held their spots, Ceecee walked along the boardwalk looking for Boyd, knowing his tall form would be easy to find even in the diminishing light. She found herself wearing an idiot grin but couldn’t make her mouth stop. When she spotted him, she ran toward him, relieved to discover that Margaret and Reggie were with him, Margaret’s head resting on Reggie’s shoulder, his arm protectively around her waist.

  They watched as the evening sky exploded into bursts of red, white, and blue stars of light, the feeling of excitement and euphoria echoing in Ceecee’s chest. She was on fire with it, with the heat and longing and brightness of it all. And with Boyd, who kept her hand in his for the entire display, and then when the sky had finally grown dark and silent, kissed her. Streaks of light from the fireworks repeated themselves on the insides of her eyelids, and she knew, right then, what it was to be truly happy.