said. âThere was no doubt in anyoneâs mind that theyâd marry and have a long, happy life together. Probably have five or six little ones. Except for he took ill and died. We never did know what killed him.â
Pauline sighed. âIâm sorry.â
April May exhaled deeply. âWe all were. It like to have killed our Princess. She didnât want to eat. She stopped going to school. She just wanted to sleep, and we couldnât keep her up. She stopped talking. You see her. You see her spark. She always had that, except for the year after John passed.â April May paused and looked far away as she remembered. âWe used to get her up, two of us, and walk her between us. She wouldnât have gone, except she was too weak to stop us. We talked at her, talked at her, showered her with love, but nothing could break through that damned melancholy. It just about killed her.â
Lizzie felt tears prick the backs of her eyes.
âOne day, it was summer, and the girls and I got her up and took her to the pond. âWeâre going for a swim,â I said. Lita was nervous about it. So was Scarlet. Hell, so was I. Cessieâs state of mind? She might have just let herself drown. But the truth is, we were losing her anyway. The most beautiful girl in the world, I mean inside and out, was wasting away before our eyes. It was killinâ my mama. So I said, âWeâre going for a swim,â and in we went. Her and I. Didnât even bother with taking our clothes off. I remember Lita panicking. âWait,â she called. But I didnât wait. I waded in and dragged Cessie with me.â
Lizzie frowned and crossed her arms, utterly caught up in the story.
âIâd taken them by surprise, so thereâs Scarlet and Lita watching, not knowing what the blazes to do. But it had to be done. I still remember; I turned over and floated and took Cessie with me. So weâre floating and lookinâ at the sky and I told her I loved her . . . more than life itself, but she had to make a choice. Live or die. Live . . . or . . . die. We wanted her to live, but the only decidinâ person was her. The grieving had to end. John wouldnât have wanted it. He didnât want it.â She paused and swallowed. âAnd then I let her go and I swam on and I swam hard. If sheâd drowned herself, I think I would have had to do the same. Luckily, when I came up for air, I looked back and saw that she was making for the shore.â
Tears filled April Mayâs eyes and she laughed and blinked them free, then wiped her face. âThe girls went in after her, knowing she was too weak to swim for long. When I made it back, there were the four of us, soaking wet, crying our eyes out, hugging one another. But the grief broke that day. Like a fever breaks. Cessie started getting better, although she never considered another man. And it wasnât like men didnât try. She was a real, true beauty and sweet as the day is long.â
It grew silent and April May looked around. âSheâs one who should have married and had a whole passel of little ones.â
âAnd then Lionel moved here,â Lizzie said quietly.
âYes, he did. Thank God. They struck up a special friendship, but she wouldnât marry him. Said they were both too set in their ways. But theyâd be together for days at a time. Weâre not far from town, but weâre out here on our own, which was a good thing. They had eight years together. Eight good years. More together than apart.â
Lizzie smiled at the thought, and the two of them started to walk again.
âYears ago,â April May said quietly, âmaybe . . . ten or twelve years ago, a young woman drowned. Like Cessie, she was a beauty and a sweet girl. Drowned accidentally was what they said, but that girl was terrified of the water. We have a Fourth of July shindig every year and thereâs an hour reserved for
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