Page 30 of That Last Carolina Summer

“There’s a wonderful quote by C. S. Lewis that I have printed on large poster paper at the front of my classroom.

He talks about the difficulty a bird has hatching out of an egg but how much harder it would be to remain an egg while learning to fly.

He compares us all to the egg and challenges us to change.

To grow. To not remain that ordinary egg no matter how comfortable it might be in there.

We must be like the birds: break the shells that surround us or go bad. ”

Excerpt from the blog The Thing with Feathers

Celeste

I STOOD IN the doorway of the living room watching Will and Ophelia playing Xbox. Or rather Will was playing while Ophelia sat next to him with a controller in her lap and her nose in a book.

“Aren’t you done with that chapter yet?” Will asked, not taking his eyes from the screen.

Ophelia didn’t look up. “Almost. I’m getting to the good part.”

Will groaned. “That’s what you said last time. Hurry. I want to teach you how to play this game.”

Ophelia peered over the top of her book and sighed. “Oh, I know how to play. I just like reading better.”

He scrunched up his face in disbelief and continued to play.

“You two are like an old married couple,” I said.

Will gagged while Ophelia simply looked horrified.

I quickly changed the subject. To Ophelia, I said, “Would you like eggs, cheese grits, pancakes, or made-to-order omelets?”

“Yes, please,” Ophelia said.

Will laughed. “You have to pick one. You can’t eat all of that.”

“That’s not for you to say, young man. Ophelia is entitled to her own opinions. Now, sweetheart, would you like all of that?”

She shook her head, her tangled ponytail slapping each side of her face.

“No, ma’am. It all sounds so good that I couldn’t pick just one.

When Patricia used to come, she’d make me eggs and toast and sometimes French toast, but she doesn’t come anymore because Mimi yelled at her and told her to go away.

Now Mimi usually just gives me a waffle from the toaster without butter or syrup because they’re fattening. ”

I bit back the words I really wanted to say.

“In this house we love our butter and syrup, within reason of course. You’ll find that when I cook, you don’t want to smother the taste.

So how about a short stack of buttermilk pancakes, with butter and syrup, and an omelet with all sorts of fresh veggies? ”

She nodded excitedly.

“What about you, Will?”

“I’ll have the same thing. And orange juice, please.”

“Me, too, please,” Ophelia said, her nose already back in her book.

“All right. I’ll let you know when it’s ready.”

I was just pulling out the eggs and butter from the refrigerator when the doorbell rang. When I didn’t hear Will getting up to get it, I called out a warning shot. “Will—remember what your daddy said. I’m sure you don’t want to lose any privileges.”

He responded with a heavy sigh followed by the sound of bare feet running down the hallway toward the door.

I recognized Phoebe’s voice as she greeted Will. She’d barely made it into the kitchen before Ophelia ran to throw her arms around her aunt in a tight squeeze. Phoebe’s hands floated over her niece for a moment, like a bird unsure where to land, and then returned the hug.

“Did you have fun?” Phoebe asked, looking directly at Ophelia, indicating that she really wanted to know.

I imagined she was a favorite teacher because of this, although I could tell she was probably a little strict, too, which her students most likely grumbled about but liked her even more because of it.

Ophelia nodded enthusiastically. “I did. Miss Celeste let us stay up late to watch a movie. I beat Will at gin rummy so I got to pick the movie. And then we made popcorn and ate it in front of the TV.”

Phoebe gave her a genuine smile, the fatigue and stress she wore on her face softening slightly. “Wow. That does sound fun. What movie?”

“ Beethoven . He’s a Saint Bernard dog.”

“I love that movie! It’s an oldie but goodie. As soon as the electricity is back on, we can watch the sequel. I’m glad you had a good time. Did you thank Miss Celeste?”

Ophelia nodded, her glasses slipping down her nose. Phoebe slid them back up and then bent to kiss the top of the girl’s head, the action seeming to surprise them both. Ophelia left to join Will in the living room as the electronic bings of the game resumed.

“She was very polite—the perfect guest,” I said. “She and Will are already good friends. And I’m sorry if I misunderstood, but I thought I was supposed to bring Ophelia back after breakfast.”

“Yes, well, that was the plan but I was desperate to get out of the house so I thought a walk across town to pick up Ophelia would feed two birds with one seed, and I needed the exercise to clear my head. Right now, Addie’s with Mother, and I told her she couldn’t leave until I got back.

She wasn’t happy since she just came home after sleeping who-knows-where, but I honestly couldn’t care less.

” She moved to stand in front of the wall-unit air conditioner and stuck her face near the vent. “I don’t think I’ll ever cool off.”

“Can I offer you some coffee?” I took in the dark circles under her eyes and the faint smell of beer mixed with that of mint toothpaste and sweat.

My phone conversation with Liam that morning had given me a hint as to what had happened the night before without breaking any confidentiality rules, and my instinct to fix things had been kicked into overdrive.

“Yes, thank you. Just black. I don’t know if I miss the AC or the coffee maker more. I guess I could buy a jar of instant, but that would mean that I’ve hit rock bottom. Not that I’m far away, but I’d like to think that I still have my standards.”

I laughed and pulled a mug from the cabinet and poured her a cup. “There’s no shame in rock bottom as long as you’re looking up and not down. That way you can see the stars.”

“I need to remember that.” She took a sip from her mug. “Can I set the table or help you in any way? I’m good at taking direction. Just don’t ask me to cook.”

“I don’t need you to do a thing. Go ahead and take your coffee to the screen porch while I get breakfast ready. Have you eaten? I can bring something out to you.”

“I’m too tired to be hungry. I wouldn’t mind just sitting outside and sipping my coffee until the caffeine kicks in.” She took the mug and wandered out onto the screened porch where my easel was set up with my work in progress.

I followed her to flip on the ceiling fans while she stood in front of the easel sipping her mug and studying the unfinished painting.

“It’s a phoebe,” I said. “But of course you already know that. I was inspired by the sudden appearance of one on my windowsill.” I studied her as closely as she examined my half-finished painting, seeing the beauty behind her exhaustion, and the way the morning sun gave her skin a golden glow that matched the downy underfeathers of the bird.

But it was the light in her eyes that I wished I could translate onto canvas.

It showed all the hope and strength she seemed afraid to admit to herself, let alone allow others to see.

“I keep meaning to look up what they symbolize. Not that I believe in any of that, but I like to keep an open mind.”

Her mouth twisted. “According to the so-called experts, the phoebe bird symbolizes resilience and overcoming adversity. The Phoebe woman, not so much.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

Her smile wobbled. “I yelled something awful at my mother last night.”

“If it were a crime to say something awful to those we love, we’d all be in jail.

” I drew a deep breath and continued. “The last thing I said to Julie as she headed out the door was that I hoped she’d catch her death because it was cold outside and she wouldn’t wear a sweater.

” I shrugged. “If time travel were real, I’d go back and delete every single word.

But that’s not how life works, is it? We all make mistakes.

That means that at least we’re trying. Anyway, I’m sure you had your reasons, just as I’m sure that, if your mother were able, she’d forgive you. ”

“I’m not so sure. My relationship with my mother has always been... complicated.”

“Because you believe she wished you were more like your sister?”

She turned back to the painting.

“As an outsider who is only just getting to know you and your family, I’d say that it’s not that simple.

Love is complicated. A mother will love each child differently depending on what that child needs.

Maybe your mother thought that Addie needed her more than you did.

But that doesn’t mean she loved you any less. ”

“It’s not just my mother’s situation that’s keeping me on edge.

I’m worried about Ophelia, too. Addie is ignoring our mother’s new limitations and still acts as if she is capable of supervising Ophelia.

I don’t know how to make Addie accept the truth, and I’m running out of time.

” She ran her hands over her face, briefly covering her eyes.

“Have you ever gone out in the marsh, followed a break in the sawgrass, and gotten lost? That’s how I feel right now.

Everywhere I look the tall grass obstructs my view, and I can’t find my way. ”

“Keep paddling. You’ll eventually find firmer ground.” I indicated the deep wicker armchair I liked to nap in. “Why don’t you relax for a bit while I feed the children?”

She stifled a yawn. “Thank you. I think I will.”

After breakfast, I sent the children outside to refill the bird feeders then went to check on Phoebe.

As expected, her half-empty mug of coffee sat on the side table, and she was fast asleep in the chair, which had been my plan all along.

I didn’t want to wake her since I knew she needed the sleep, but I also knew that her sister was waiting for her.

“Phoebe?” I spoke gently so as not to startle her.