but this is just…”
“Ravishing?” Sarah adds. “Spectacular? Captivating? I can keep going.”
I laugh. “Yes, all of those.”
Bessie smoothes down her own dress. “I’m glad you like it, Lil.”
“I love it. I don’t want to take it off. It’s not only the look of it, it’s the way it feels.” What I don’t say is how different it is from my first wedding dress, which was all puffy sleeves, a voluminous frou-frou affair. This gown, being cut on the bias, accentuates my country-girl curves in a way that makes me feel beautiful. I can’t wait to lock eyes with Damon as I enter the church, and walk to him, to my future.
Mamma dabs at her eyes. “Bessie, sometimes I think you should be in Paris, or Milan, or one of those fashion capitals, not stuck here in Ashford, but I’m mighty glad you are. You’ve made my daughter’s wedding day even more perfect.”
Bessie smiles. “I wouldn’t last five minutes in a big town. But thank you, it was my pleasure. It’s not often I get to make a bridal gown, so when I do it’s extra fun for me.”
Sarah says, “Let’s take a few photos. Maybe CeeCee might like to see them?”
“Aww, that’s lovely,” Mamma says as Sarah pulls out her phone.
The girls smooth out the small train, and I beam, for once happy to be photographed.
“Right,” I say once they’ve snapped away. “Let’s see you girls in your bridesmaid dresses!”
The next morning, I wake an hour before my alarm. It’s dark out and the wind is so fierce the shutters shake and woo as if there’s an eerie presence outside. I know it’s only my worry over CeeCee that’s making me feel uneasy. I creep from under the covers so I don’t wake Damon. I’d spent the better half of the night trying to call her but her phone went straight to voicemail.
In the pitch-black room, I fumble for some clothes as quietly as I can. It’s too early for Damon to wake, and he has his bachelor party tonight and will probably be out much later than me. I’ll be with the girls, having our movie marathon, and make-up trial ay Missy’s house. I scrawl him a quick note to let him know I’ve gone in to work early.
Ten minutes later, I’m showered and dressed and race to my truck; the cold outside steals the air from my lungs. It seems every winter gets that little bit more frozen, and I’m careful not to slip on the fresh snowfall. The truck door makes an almighty creak as I pull it open and I wince, hoping I haven’t woken Damon up. Though the truck doing its usual three-minute warm-up to start will wake up anyone in the vicinity who’s not a deep sleeper.
“Come on.” I push the accelerator and try to cajole the motor to roar into life. I turn the heat up, but it comes out in a frosty cloud until the motor warms.
Finally, it decides to start, and I reverse out, thinking I may as well have walked by the time it’s taken to get the truck to comply. Driving at a snail’s pace, I focus on the road, lest I suddenly slip and lose control.
I chug down the street, wiping the inside of the windscreen as I go. The main street is sleepy with no one about; as I drive closer the lights from the Gingerbread Café shine out. She’s there. I knew she would be. When something’s eating at CeeCee she bakes. We both do.
I park around back, and go inside. “Cee?” The furious clicking of computer keys travels from the office. It’s the only space in the café that doesn’t get the warmth from the fire. I shrug into my coat in the chilly room. “What’re you doing?” I peek over her shoulder. “Is that your matron of honor speech?”
She stops and swivels on the chair to face me. “Yeah, Lil. Kinda difficult to express how I feel about y’all in just a few pages.” Tears spill down her sweet brown face.
I crouch down to her level. “They don’t look like happy tears, Cee.”
She gives me a sad smile that almost breaks my heart in two. “They ain’t, they surely ain’t.”
My stomach drops. “Go on, I’m listening.”
She nods, and takes a deep breath. Her hands shake so she clasps them together. “I’m sorry I didn’t get to see you in your dress yesterday.”
I wave her away. “It doesn’t matter. You’ll see it on the day.” I realize in our excitement we’d forgotten to text her the photos of us in our dresses yesterday.
A sob escapes her. “That’s just it, Lil. I might not see you in it at all.”
“What? Why?”
“It’s Janey. He…they…”
I uselessly pat CeeCee’s leg, wishing I knew what to do or to say.
“The doctors say there ain’t…there…ain’t nothin’ more they can do for Janey.” Her face falls; as she is wracked with sobs and fresh tears spill. I’m at a loss of how to help her. My mind gropes for words that won’t form. I try so hard to keep it together for CeeCee’s benefit.
“My best friend…my longest friend is coming home. Coming back to Ashford to say her goodbyes.”
“Oh, Cee.” My fight to stay reserved for her crumbles and my eyes fill with unshed tears.
She shakes her head, and again I notice how much smaller she seems. Her grief is somehow making her fold in on herself.
I grapple with the right words. “You need to be with Janey. Nothing else matters right now.” I can’t imagine getting married without CeeCee there. It wouldn’t feel right, as if a piece of me were missing, but I know that Janey needs her. And that’s what friendship is. Letting go, when you so desperately want to clutch on.
She looks up, and cracks a half-hearted smile. “You a good girl, Lil. Always have been.”
“So…when’s Janey coming home?”
CeeCee takes a long shuddery breath. “Tomorrow. They say…” her voice takes on a slight edge “…that she has a week, like she’s planning some holiday or some such. I hate the way they guess like that…a week, almost like we should mark it on the calendar. How’d they even know such a thing? What about if we want more than a week? What if she ain’t ready to go yet? They never think o’ that, do they? What gives them the right to flounce around healthy as can be and put a number on someone’s life? It ain’t right.”
“They don’t know. How could they?”
“I know what the comin’ days are gonna be like, Lil. I know from when Curtis passed on.” She pauses, expels a shaky breath. “It brings it all back, and I know I need to find strength somewhere in here—” she taps her heart “—for Janey. I don’t wanna tumble into that dark place again.”
I move to hug her. She’s dusty with
