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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 flour, and smells like cinnamon. “Strength, Cee? You got it in spades. Strength is being there when it’s hard. And helping out when your heart is breaking. And you’ve been there every step of the way for Janey. Not just now, but a whole lifetime. No question it’s going to be a dark time. But we’ll all be here for you, and Janey. And Walt. He’s sure going to need a friend like you, Cee.”
When CeeCee’s husband Curtis died, she barricaded herself in her house. No one saw her for weeks after the funeral. It was as if she just stopped living. She didn’t answer her phone, or her door. Stopped going to church. I’d only just opened up the café — it was so new all I sold back then were gingerbread men, and instant coffee. I wasn’t making a dime. In fact I was losing money. But I knew CeeCee needed a reason to wake up every day. So I went and dragged her out of her house, and insisted she help me at the café. It wasn’t long before she learned to smile again. And in the midst of it all, I made a friend I’ll cherish for ever.
“Lil, I’m just…I’m every kind o’ sad. How you gonna cope here all alone? What about the wedding? What if I can’t make it?”
The thought of CeeCee missing my wedding makes my heart seize but it’s nowhere near as important as being with Janey. “You never know, Cee — what if you can make it? What if Janey’s doing better than expected? And if not, then I’ll be more proud knowing you’re with Janey.”
“I know, you like a daughter to me, that’s all. It’d be like missing my own kid’s wedding. But we’ll see, we surely will, cause, no matter what they say, I ain’t giving up on my friend just yet. The good Lord performed miracles before, and there’s still time to hope.”
I nod sagely, knowing that deep down CeeCee knows what’s coming but holds onto a tiny thread of ‘what if?’.
“What about the café, Lil? How you gonna manage?”
“Easy. I’m sure I’ll have plenty of helpers.” Once everyone finds out Janey’s back and CeeCee’s gone to care for her, folk around here will be lining up to give me a hand. It’s the way things are done in Ashford. If you fall there’ll be someone to lift you. “And if all else fails, I’ll ask Mamma. She’s already ruined the wedding cake — there’s not much else she can do surely?”
“I’m gonna stow away our good pots and pans.”
I smile. “Good idea. And maybe we’ll hide the blender, and anything else she might be able to blow up.”
We giggle at that. So Mamma’s a little on the clumsy side — probably because she’s always talking to someone and forgets what she’s meant to be doing.
“Why don’t you go on home, Cee? Take a break. You’re going to need—”
She cuts me off abruptly. “I don’t need to sit there and dwell on it alone, Lil. I want to be here with you.”
I bite the inside of my lip to stop myself crying. “Well, OK.”
She hoists herself up from the chair. “There ain’t nothing for it except a bit of baking,” she says, resolute.
We embrace in the small office, and I promise myself I’ll do all I can to be there for CeeCee over the coming days. “So tell me all about that dress o’ yours…” CeeCee says as we head out front to find some comfort in baking.
Later that evening, we’re all gathered around Missy’s kitchen bench, giggling like schoolgirls as she attempts to make up my face so I can choose what colors suit me best for the big day. Then we intend to sloth out for our chick-flick marathon.
By now Damon will be gambling up a storm with his friends at his casino-themed bachelor party. I smile, thinking of him trying to perfect his poker face. I’d know instantly if he had a bad hand. That little wrinkle near his mouth would deepen.
“Stop blinking, Lil!”
“I can’t help it!” I squirm backwards. “It feels like you’re gluing my eyelashes together.”
“Listen to her! Being tortured by a mascara wand.” Missy shakes her head, and cups my chin, trying to stop me from moving. It’s difficult not to blink while she’s batting at my eyelashes.
Sarah and CeeCee move to Missy’s red leather sofas to chat about their latest bonk-buster reads. In light of what’s coming for CeeCee I think tonight is just what she needs to revive her soul for the sadness approaching.
Mamma sits on a stool next to me and pushes her face close to mine. “What?” I say, trying not to wiggle as Missy continues torturing me.
“What, aren’t I allowed to gawk at my own daughter?”
“It’s the way you’re doing it. It doesn’t suit me, does it?”
Even though I asked Missy to go light with the make-up, it feels as if it’s been trowelled on.
“It certainly does suit you,” Mamma says. “If only you’d stop pulling those faces.”
Missy stands back to survey me. “Hmm.” She steps forward and dabs at my lower eyelashes with the brush, and says, “There. Done.”
“Well, let’s see.”
Missy holds the round mirror to her belly, “Girls, you see it first — what do you think? More rouge?”
Sarah bounds up from the sofa first. “Wow, what a transformation. No, no more rouge.”
CeeCee stands and snaps a photo. “That’s going on Spacebook. Stop fussing.” She slaps my hand away as I go to fumble with my eyelashes.
“Missy,” Mamma says, “you’re an artist. You made that blank canvas into something spectacular.”
I roll my eyes. “Blank canvas, geez.”
“Well, you know what I mean.”
“Let me see!” I say, excited.
“Don’t touch your curls!” Missy yelps. She spent the better part of an hour wrapping locks of my hair around rollers.
“No.” Missy laughs and puts the mirror face down on the bench. “Let me finish your hair first.”
I groan. “Just one little peep?”
She laughs and hands me the mirror. My eyes made-up look bigger somehow, and brighter. Missy used a special technique to contour my cheekbones, which takes away some of the fullness in my face. My lips are a natural pink with a little gloss to make them shine. “Geez, Missy, I don’t look like this when I put make-up on myself.”
“You’re welcome,” she says with a huge smile. “I am so jealous of your long eyelashes it kills me when you don’t even appreciate them. Totally wasted on you.”
I laugh. “Maybe not. Maybe I will start wearing gloop. I can’t believe it…”
“Let’s unwind the rollers and finish your hair. You’re seriously going to be the best-looking bride I’ve ever seen.”
“I’m dizzy with all these compliments.”
“Get used to it,” Missy says. “You’re going to be showered with them soon.”
I glance over at CeeCee, who’s suddenly quiet, staring off into the distance. She’s going to tell the girls about Janey tonight, but she was worried it’d cast a pall over the evening. I reassured her that they’d want to know, and being together whether we’re laughing or crying is all that matters.
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