Edith’s thoughts were jumbled for a moment, refusing to settle. “I’ve got some shrimp and rice, and some wonderful tomatoes I got yesterday in Frogmore. . . .”
“Great. Just make it fast. I’m going to show CeCe the rest of the house. She’s from outside of Greenville and swears she’s never seen such grand houses as we have here in Beaufort.”
The back door opened and Deborah entered the kitchen, stopping suddenly when she saw C.J. and Cecelia. C.J.’s expression hardened as Deborah closed the door slowly behind her, then stopped with her back against the door facing Edith’s son, the two of them like fighters claiming their corners.
Deborah had continued to babysit for C.J. until he was old enough to be left alone, despite his protests that he hated her. Edith soon realized that he wasn’t using that as an excuse, but he truly had a dislike for his babysitter. It hadn’t taken Edith long to understand it was because Deborah didn’t put up with any of C.J.’s bullying. Deborah was tall for a woman, with large bones and big, capable hands, and she was used to taking care of her siblings. This meant she wasn’t susceptible to C.J.’s charm or cajoling, and was intimidating enough physically to make sure C.J. complied with her rules. C.J. hated rules and had spent most of his childhood circumventing them despite Edith’s best efforts. Even without his father there, Edith had always felt outnumbered.
“Hello, C.J.,” Deborah said. “It’s good to see you.”
“Hello, Deborah.” C.J. just nodded at her, and didn’t introduce Cecelia.
Ignoring the snub, Deborah turned to the girl. “I’m Deborah Fuller. I used to babysit for C.J. I must admit to being surprised that he survived childhood.”
Cecelia gave a small laugh that was cut off by an abrupt squeeze from C.J. Sobering quickly, she said, “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Cecelia Gibbes. I’m at Carolina with C.J., studying nursing.”
“Not for long, though, isn’t that right, sugar?” C.J. kissed the top of her head as Edith’s unease grew.
“Is there something I should know?” Edith tried for a lighthearted tone, but she’d never been able to fool C.J. He looked at her as a person might look at a bug on a wall.
“Not yet, Mother. But you’ll be the first to know.”
She looked back at Cecelia and felt her heart shrink. She wanted to shout at her to run, to finish her nursing degree and find another life that didn’t involve her son. She hated herself for such disloyal thoughts, but she’d long since stopped praying for forgiveness.
C.J. reached into the fruit bowl on the counter and grabbed an apple. He rubbed it on his shirt, then took a big bite before offering it to Cecelia. She took a bite, although it didn’t seem like she wanted any. “I’d like to show CeCe my favorite fishing spot over on Lady’s Island, but they’ve got the road blocked off. Any idea what’s going on?”
Deborah turned on the faucet and began washing her hands in the sink. “They think they found parts of a plane that crashed over the marsh a while back.”
C.J. chewed thoughtfully. “Was I alive back then? I don’t think I remember that.”
“You were almost four,” Edith said quietly, watching him closely. She’d never spoken of that night to him, not wanting him to recall any memories that might still linger, or bring his nightmares into the daylight. And she’d never mentioned that it had happened on the night his father’s car crashed into a tree, because that would have invited the questions of where he’d been going, and what had distracted his attention from the road. There were some things best left unsaid.
C.J. took another bite of the apple, the sound loud in the small kitchen. “What happened?” he asked with a full mouth.
Deborah turned off the faucet and wiped her hands with a dish towel. “They’re not sure. I remember people finding bits and pieces of the plane in the river and the marsh for weeks afterward.” She paused for a moment, her brow furrowed, her lips tightening. “We had a baby doll fall into our front yard, and my mother cried and cried when she found out all those people were killed.”
Cecelia’s face had paled, and she had a hand to her mouth while C.J. kept eating the apple.
“Please excuse me,” Edith said, smoothing her palms on her skirt. “I’ll just go freshen up the guest room for Cecelia and then see about supper.”