“I had you,” she said, her voice breaking. “I wanted to stay with you. I begged you to keep me, but you wouldn’t.”

Mamaw gasped at the heartbreak she heard in Carson’s accusation. “I would have loved to keep you with me. I wanted to. What could I do?” she cried. “You were his daughter!”

“No!” Carson cried. “That wasn’t the reason you let me go. You could never say no to him.” Tears threatened. “Not even for me.”

Mamaw’s hands flew to her cheeks. “You can’t believe that! Parker . . . he loved you,” she said in halting words. “All of you.”

“Did he?” Carson shrugged, sniffing and swiping away the tears from her cheeks. She shook her head wretchedly. “Maybe. I don’t know. He tried. But you know what? I don’t care if he did. He was a terrible father. A ne’er-do-well, a lazy bum—”

“Carson, stop it,” Dora snapped. “Daddy wasn’t all that.”

“How would you know?” Carson fired back. “You never saw him except when he flew back home to walk you down the aisle.” She leaned forward, skewering Dora with a direct gaze. “Don’t you remember how you said you didn’t want him to walk you down the aisle because you were afraid that he’d be so drunk he wouldn’t make it without falling on his ass? He knew that, you know. And it hurt him.”

Dora blanched, remembering.

Mamaw felt like she was shriveling inside. She couldn’t catch her breath.

Harper spoke up. “The only time I ever saw him was at Dora’s wedding. I was only fourteen. I was so nervous and happy at the same time at the prospect of seeing him. But when he arrived at the church, even I could tell he was drunk. Just like my mother told me he’d be. I remember Granddaddy was so angry at him. Later, at the reception, I had to meet him. I mean, he was my father. So I stalked him. I found him leaning against the wall in the back hall. He spotted me and came up to me, smiling. My stomach was in knots and I had this dream that he’d hug me and tell me how much he loved me. When he got close he just stood there and stared at me, weaving a little on his feet while I smiled so hard my cheeks hurt. He just sneered at me and said, ‘You look just like your mother.’ ”

Harper paused, her face pained at the memory. “I’ll never forget it, the venom behind the words. He made it sound like it was the worst thing he could’ve said. Like it was a curse and he despised the sight of me. He just walked off. I never saw him again.” She wiped the tears from her face with trembling fingertips. “Not quite the sentiment a young girl dreams of hearing from her father.”

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As the young women argued and rehashed painful memories, Mamaw put her hand to her chest. She felt the weight of years pressing. It hurt her to hear her granddaughters spell out Parker’s faults so bluntly and with such rancor. She stared at the guttering candles while steadying her breath. Wax melted down the stooping tapers onto the crystal and linen. She didn’t know if she could clean up this mess. Mamaw gripped the arms of her chair and rose unsteadily to her feet.

“I need some air,” she said weakly.

Immediately all discussion ceased and Carson and Dora were on their feet, holding on to her arms. Mamaw couldn’t look at them; she was too upset. “I have to get out of this dress.”

CHAPTER TEN

Mamaw sat nestled in the thick cushions of the black wicker chair on the porch. Looking up, she felt comforted at the sight of the classic South Carolina crescent moon with a vividly bright Venus hovering near. Around them, more stars sparkled like fireflies, creating a moody nightglow. Lucille had helped her change out of the ridiculously constricting dress. She was shocked to find pink marks on her body from the stays that would surely bruise.

Now she was free to breathe in her flowing robe. She should have known better than to try to squeeze into a dress she’d worn back when she had a waistline. Her vanity had always been a burden. She stared out at the blackness and pondered how the dinner conversation had taken such an ugly turn. Emotions had flared much more strongly than she’d anticipated. A wildfire burning out of control . . .

The sound of creaking wood alerted her to someone’s coming. She looked over her shoulder and saw a woman’s silhouette approaching carrying a bottle and two glasses.

“Do you want more wine?” Carson asked her as she drew near.

“Heavens no, child,” Mamaw replied, still feeling lightheaded. “I can’t drink another drop. The days of late-night carousing are long over for me. I have to worry about staying hydrated.”

Carson set the two glasses and bottle on the table, took the chair beside Mamaw, and reached out for her hand.

“Mamaw, I’m so sorry for my outburst earlier. It was wrong and rude and I was raised better.”

“Don’t apologize to me. It’s I who should apologize to you. I should have been more aware, more attentive. When I think of what you went through the night your father died . . .”

Carson closed her eyes tight. “You did your best.”

“I daresay we all did,” Mamaw said.

Carson’s face revealed gratitude for her understanding.

“But so much anger! I didn’t know you carried such a burden.”

“It all just burst out,” Carson said. “I didn’t mean for that to happen. I didn’t mean to ruin your party.”

Mamaw waved that comment away. “Party . . . We’re family. Don’t trouble yourself about that.”

“But I do. I couldn’t stop. I don’t know whether it was just because I’m in such a sorry place now or because I wanted my sisters to know the truth about what it was like out in California with him. To hear Dora say she thought we lived the life of the rich and famous. I had to rip away that veil and show them the true sad spectacle.”

“I wish you’d have told me sooner how bad your living situation had become. I would have brought you home. Here.”

“It’s too late to change things now,” Carson said in a fatalistic tone. “My life isn’t here anymore, Mamaw. California is my home.”

“Is it?” Mamaw asked.

“It’s where my work is.”

“Is it?” Mamaw asked again.

Carson just shook her head. “I loved him,” she said in a hushed whisper. “I really loved him, despite everything.”




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