by Beth Hoffman
“Okay,” I said to myself, taking one last look in the mirror. “This is it, CeeCee—the biggest day of your whole life. Don’t mess it up.”
I took a few deep breaths, squared my shoulders, and headed downstairs.
Aunt Tootie, Oletta, and Mrs. Odell were talking in the kitchen. When I walked in, they turned and looked at me.
“Oh, Cecelia Rose. You look positively adorable,” Aunt Tootie said, getting up from the table. She smoothed her hands over the sleeves of my blazer and plucked a tiny piece of lint from the lapel.
Mrs. Odell reached out and took hold of my hand. “CeeCee, I can’t tell you how happy I am to witness this day.”
Oletta poured a glass of orange juice and handed it to me. “When I got up this mornin’ and looked out the window, I knew the Good Lord himself sent you a nice cool breeze and some sunshine for your first day at school. I believe this will be a mighty fine day for you, child.”
I sat at the table, sipped the orange juice, and wondered what my first day would be like. But more than anything I wondered if Dixie McAllister would be waiting for me at 7:45 like she’d promised.
I was surprised when Oletta served breakfast at the kitchen table and not in the breakfast room. I was also surprised when Aunt Tootie pulled out the extra chair and asked Oletta to sit down and join us, which she did with a wide smile on her face.
And there we were—Aunt Tootie, Mrs. Odell, Oletta, and I—all having a casual breakfast together like a real family, my real family.
When the hands of the clock moved to 7:40, I gathered my notebook and headed for the front door. I checked myself in the mirror one last time as Aunt Tootie, Oletta, and Mrs. Odell paraded down the hall, looking anxious and wringing their hands. One by one they wished me luck: Aunt Tootie with a kiss and Mrs. Odell with a hug. Oletta looked at me real serious, smoothed her hand over my shoulder, then winked a slow, gentle kind of wink.
I smiled, said good-bye, and was relieved that they let me walk outside by myself and didn’t stand on the front steps to watch.
My veins pulsed with excitement as I pulled the door closed. Is this really happening? Am I, CeeCee Honeycutt, about to walk to a new school with a brand-new girlfriend?
I took a deep breath, turned, and looked toward the sidewalk. Then my stomach plummeted, and my smile fell away from my face. My worst fear had come true: Dixie McAllister wasn’t there.
Stay calm. She’ll be here any minute.
I stood on my toes and looked up and down the sidewalk. A few men dressed in suits hurried by, swinging leather briefcases at their sides, and crossing the street by Forsyth Park was a spry old woman walking her dog, but Dixie was nowhere to be seen. Then from around the corner came a quick burst of laughter, and my heart skipped a beat.
Here she comes. Here she comes.
But it was only two girls whizzing by on bicycles.
I searched the sidewalks and chanted, “Please, Please. Please. Oh, God, please have her be here.”
Knowing I had to leave for school or I’d risk being late, I slowly walked down the steps and opened the wrought-iron gate. When I turned to pull it closed, I saw Mrs. Odell, Oletta, and Aunt Tootie peeking around the fringed edge of the living room curtains. Heat rose to my cheeks. They knew Dixie hadn’t kept her promise. I pretended not to see them watching and tried my best to look happy, as if it didn’t matter that Dixie wasn’t there.
After securing the latch on the gate, I turned and stepped onto the sidewalk. And right there, sitting on the low stone wall, partially hidden by the foliage of Aunt Tootie’s front garden, was Dixie. She was hunched over, elbows on her knees, reading a book.
When she looked up and saw me, relief washed over her face. “Hi, CeeCee. Am I ever glad to see you! I was worried you went to school without me.”
I all but fell to my knees with gratefulness at the sight of her—my new friend who was wearing a brand-new uniform exactly like mine and a smile as wide as the new day.
“Are . . . are you kidding?” I sputtered. “I couldn’t wait to see you again.”
Dixie stood, gathered her book, and surprised me when she stepped forward and laced her arm through mine. “I was so excited I left my house early. I’ve been sitting out here since seven-thirty. CeeCee, have you ever read Murder on the Orient Express? Oh, my gosh, I can’t put it down.”
“Yes,” I said, nodding furiously.
She babbled about how much she adored our new uniforms and how she couldn’t wait to see what our reading list would include. As we crossed the street—Dixie all but running as if to keep her feet in pace with her words and me feeling dizzy with an insane kind of gladness—I glanced over my shoulder. And there they were, Aunt Tootie, Mrs. Odell, and Oletta, still hovering at the living room window. The vision of them nearly split my heart open.
As the sunlight raced across the brilliant Savannah sky, the day unfolded like a beautiful yet painfully wrapped gift. Momma had left this world and set herself free, and in doing so, she had set me free too. As much as I missed her and wished I could hear her laughter one more time, I believed she was out there in the big bright somewhere, watching me, cheering for me. Loving me.