Sixty—Mia
I
hadn’t been to too many funerals in my life, and in truth I wasn’t looking forward to Bree Talbot’s. But I was finally in Savannah, late—as in mechanical problems causing a two-hour delay in take-off—sleep-deprived, starving, but here. And I couldn’t wait to see Ivy. I’d brushed my teeth in the airport bathroom, changed into a long black sleeveless dress, wound my hair into a loose mess behind one ear and donned some dangly earrings that didn’t seem terribly inappropriate for the occasion. I looked pretty good, and a little lip-gloss helped.
As we’d agreed, Camille picked me up at the curb, and I thought I would die when I saw the girls. I climbed in the back and slobbered all over them, careful of Livvy’s cast. But when the airport security van honked for us to move on, I jumped back in the front and hugged Camille. “Hey,” I said.
Camille smiled. “Hey, yourself.”
I eyed my sister—my beautiful sister—with surprise. “You look great !”
“Thanks. I feel good. This place, Geneva…Bree…” she shrugged, got tearful. “It’s all been very healing…and a lot clarifying .”
I reached over and squeezed her hand, and she squeezed back.
“Did you know Bo’s here?” she said.
“He made it,” I said, relieved.
“You knew he was coming?”
“Not at first. And even he had his doubts that he’d make it—he made me promise not to tell. How is he? ”
“He’s… good . Better than I’ve seen him in a while,” she said, pulling into traffic. “It’s a little strange.”
I looked over at my sister. “But he’s okay?”
“I think so.”
“You know, he drove all the way here because he was convinced that he’d let Ivy down,” I said. “I think he loves her.”
Camille nodded. “I think so, too. I have never seen him like this.”
“Like what?”
“Like…kind of at ease. And focused outside of himself. If that makes sense.”
“Really?”
Camille glanced over at me. “He hasn’t really said much. I kind of get the impression that he’s been through something huge. He’s a little reflective, but somehow…like I said, he’s very okay. Very concerned about Geneva. And, of course, Ivy.”
“Hmmm. I still might have to strangle him,” I breathed. “ How are they? Ivy? How’s Geneva?”
Camille sighed as she eased onto the freeway. “They’re so injured, Mia. And both of them just want to take care of the other one. At first Geneva was doing the best, but now Ivy seems to be handling things a bit better. Maybe that has something to do with Bo being here.”
“That could be,” I agreed.
Because we were behind schedule, Camille drove straight to Our Lady of Good Hope Chapel near Geneva’s home. The historic church was swarming with people, and for some reason it surprised me to see such a turnout. It also forced me to see Bree Talbot as a real person. Not just a mom who had hurt my friend or a shallow cliché who’d fallen for Daniel Proctor’s wholly unoriginal lies, but as the architect of a real life, someone who’d accomplished real things and left her mark on the world. If funeral attendance was any indicator of respect and popularity, Bree Talbot seemed to have scored on both counts. We parked down the street and followed a small parade through a tunnel of live oaks to the church. The day was hot but breezy and absolutely lovely. I couldn’t help myself. I set Olivia down—she’d hitched a ride on my hip—and unzipped my small camera from its case.
To silence her disapproval, I took a few shots of my sister. Through my lens, Camille looked amazing, like she hadn’t looked in months. I had to stop and take her in to fully appreciate the change. She had gained back some badly needed weight and appeared to have a chest again, but better than that was the absence of worry that had furrowed her forehead for so long. She’d been here two weeks, but she looked like a new woman. Her plum-colored dress hugged her thin frame, and nude heels showcased her great legs. “I have to say, Camille, you look completely cured of the venereal disease that is your husband.”
“Mia!”
I laughed and brought her shocked face into focus and snapped. “Only speaking the truth, my dear. I can’t help it if Georgia looks really, really good on you.”
She smiled despite herself. “I actually love it here. And the girls are absolutely thriving,” she said as we crossed the street.
I spied Ivy on the steps of the church, chatting with a tall guy and a middle-aged couple. She was wearing a pink blouse and a grey pencil skirt that showed off her curves. She’d combed her new short hair off her face, and she was wearing sunglasses. I zoomed in on her and took several photos, then I stowed my camera. I didn’t see Bo or Geneva anywhere. When Ivy saw me, her lip quivered, and she tried to smile, then she met me on the stairs where we had a little hug fest, with tears. “You really came,” she said.
“I told you I would.”
“I’m so glad you’re here.”
“Me, too.”
She took my hand, “C’mere.”
We walked back up the stairs, where Ivy said, “Mia, I want you to meet the Marshes. This is Bryce and Paula—dear, dear friends. This is Mia. I’ve been staying with her in Monterey. ”
I shook hands with them both. “Nice to meet you.”
“And this is Tim,” Ivy said, and for a second it did not click. But when I looked up into dark eyes that seemed distinctly uncomfortable, it did. I decided not to say As in flakey, jerk-bob, almost-husband Tim? but I knew that’s exactly who he was. Instead, I shook his hand and said, not smiling, “I’ve heard a lot about you, Tim.”
He nodded, a bit shamed. “I bet you have.”
It occurred to me then that it had probably taken some courage for him to show up here today. Ivy had spoken of her profound humiliation in front of this community, and now that same community had shown up in droves to support her. I suddenly felt a little bad for Tim Marsh.
Inside the church, Camille found us seats, and I went in search of my brother. I found him in a receiving room chatting with Geneva, who was holding court near Bree’s open casket. When Bo saw me, he seemed to relax, sort of like he’d been holding his breath and could now stop. It was a familiar reaction. But to Bo’s credit, I doubted his anxiety was apparent to anyone but me. I waved and he nodded, still chatting. Geneva followed his gaze, and as I approached, she gave me a huge hug. “You sweet girl! Ivy told me you were coming. It means the world that you’re here. I believe I now have a complete set of Sutton siblings, and I could not be happier.” She steered me closer to the casket, which was arrayed with funeral sprays on every side. It was the centerpiece of the small room, completely unavoidable. I breathed deep. It seemed a strange tradition to gawk at the dead, but I walked over and gawked at the dead.
Ivy’s mother was stunning, lying there fully made up, the platinum waves of her hair softening her arranged expression. There was absolutely no hint of the brokenness that was underneath the beautiful blue dress Ivy had chosen; someone had done a very good job. The dress was tight—or just tucked tight—around Bree Talbot, and she was wearing an enormous pendent that rested between her breasts. A matching set of bangles encircled one thin wrist, and her nails were freshly manicured. Good choice, Ivy , I thought, and again admired Bree Talbot’s sense of style.
After Geneva’s attention was claimed elsewhere, Bo sidled up next to me. “Can you believe where we’re standing right now?”
“Weird, isn’t it?” I said.
“It’s a little disorienting,” he said. “I can’t believe how different the world seems here.”
I slipped my arm through his. “You look nice. New suit?”
He looked down and nodded. “Not bad for off-the-rack. I didn’t exactly pack anything before I left.”
“Bo. What were you thinking?”
He sighed. “At first? So many things. Some you probably don’t want to know, Mia.”
His words suddenly froze in my brain, and I tugged on him to force eye contact. But he would not look at me. “Bo.”
“Do you know that I’ve lived my whole life in a hamster wheel?” he said, his eyes fixed on Bree Talbot. “I’m almost twenty-eight years old, and I have never been out of my own head.”
I couldn’t argue that. “How does it feel?” I asked.
“It’s a little terrifying. But I’m kind of managing, which sort of shocks me.”
I took him in and saw a little of what Camille had described. “Are you okay? I’ve been worried about you.”
He nodded, still not looking at me. “I am okay.”
“Why wouldn’t you talk to me?”
“I talked to you.”
“I mean, why didn’t you tell me why you left?”
“I couldn’t. I was ashamed. I didn’t know what I was doing—you wanted answers. I had none. Until I did.” Finally, he looked over at me and offered a weak smile.
“Bo…”
“I’m okay, Mia. Actually, I think I might be more okay than I’ve ever been. ”
“Care to elaborate…on any of that?” I said, sort of pleading.
Bo shook his head and looked back at Ivy’s mother. Then he reached in the casket and lightly touched the pendent lying on her chest. “Impressive work, don’t you think?”