Cece reminds herself to breathe, ears buzzing, throat tight. “I know it’s too late, but I’m sorry,” she says. “I was afraid…of how you made me feel. It was selfish, hoping I could just keep you in my life as a friend even when I knew, deep down, what you wanted…what I wanted…I just wanted—”
“Why not stay here?” Morgan says, as if it’s the simplest thing in the world, as if they’ve just met for the first time at the Whaler, when Springsteen had played on the jukebox, when they’d walked around the neighborhood, cocktails in hand, Bernard tugging on his leash, Morgan beside her, forever patient, forever there.
At first Cece says nothing because she’s misheard him. Magical thinking, fantastical optimism. After all this—he wantsnothing to do with her.Shewants nothing to do with her! And then he’s close, arms around her.
“I didn’t think that was an option.”
“You’re thinking again,” Morgan says, his beard teasing and prickly against her cheeks. “That’s the problem.”
19
In his baggy sweatpants and fadedUniversity of Tennessee SwimmingT-shirt, Barry more resembles The Dude than the once-proud athlete Cece recalls so vividly from her adolescence. He stalks the perimeter of the detached garage in Wynonna’s backyard like an animal wary of a trap. In a bind, Devin had called in a favor of his friend who was a local contractor, and he’d started converting the garage into a proper guesthouse. Devin had even lent a hand to speed things along, cutting out windows and putting up drywall. If he’s bitter about having to park his shiny truck on the street, he’s hiding it well. The place still needs plumbing and electric, but it looks better than anything Cece could have expected. She is thankful for Wynonna.
The air in Charlotte is sticky like molasses. The sisters, side by side, watch their father. From inside the house, the sound of children roughhousing. Devin is grilling steaks for dinner on the deck that overlooks the subdivision, where Cece imagines he cansee fifty houses identical to this one. Maybe she’s been too hard on her sister, too judgmental. Wynonna seems happy; her family is big and loud and must fill up her life in ways Cece could never imagine.
“Go inside, Dad. Check it out,” Wynonna says. “Just don’t touch anything. We’re still waiting on city inspectors.”
Cece’s back barks from the merciless U-Haul seats. She’s made the drive from New York with her father in two days, only stopping once at a profoundly disappointing Best Western for a night of fitful sleep. Barry had wanted to make the drive in a single shot, but his bladder had quickly put an end to those aspirations.
Wynonna runs a hand under her nose and sniffles. Cece pulls her close, and then her little sister is trembling, her voice woolly and low. “I’ll never forgive Mom.”
Cece doesn’t say anything for a long time. Barry moves from room to room in the garage, his figure determined and plodding. “I know you’re angry,” she finally says.
“And you’re not? You don’t just give up. That’s not how marriage works.”
“I’m more resigned than anything.”
“I just can’t fathom it, Cece. Mom. At her age? Starting over. It’s laughable.”
“She did try, Wynonna. Maybe we wish she would have tried for longer, but she couldn’t. And now she’s trying to make up for lost time…I can’t blame her for that. I know the feeling.”
Wynonna stiffens, shoulders tight, back rigid. “I can’t forgive her, Cece. I just won’t.”
“No one’s asking you to, Wynonna. Certainly not me.”
One of the boys bursts through a sliding door, and Wynonna quickly wipes her tears and conjures a smile before he asks for the precise location of a toy. Wynonna scrunches her eyes, thinks for a moment before she says it’s in the den under the coffee table. The boy scampers off, confident in his mother’s superpower. She is no longer her little sister, Cece realizes, not really. This life, this family—this is her creation, her monument to humanity. A triumphant yelp from an open window—the toy has been found, just where Mom said it would be.
“Thanks for taking Dad,” Cece says. “Really, I don’t know what I would have done.” And it’s true. When Kim had informed everyone of her intentions to move out, Cece is ashamed to admit her first concern was not for Barry’s well-being, but for his living situation. Who would look after him? Who would take him in when they eventually sold the house? It couldn’t be her; she didn’t even have a place of her own, not really, and the thought of caring for her father just when Rayburn Oyster was expanding seemed like a cruel twist of fate.
“It’s nothing,” Wynonna says like she really means it. “We have the room, and the kids will love having him around. Once we get some furniture in there, it will feel like a real home.”
“You’ve built a good life down here, Wynonna. Have I ever told you that?”
“You should visit more.”
“I will. I don’t know why I haven’t.”
Wynonna puts an arm around Cece as if to absolve her of any guilt. “You’ve been a little busy.”
“Understatement of the summer.”
“And now?”
“Less complicated. I met someone.”
“What’s his name?”
“Morgan.”
