“Kyle isn’t Mark.”
“Maybe not,” I started, as the doctor reentered the room with a grave expression on her face.
“I have your test results,” she said. She looked at Caroline.
“Oh, it’s fine,” I said. “She’s my sister. Anything you say to me you can say to her.”
Caroline actually sat down in the chair beside me, which was completely shocking. Now she would have to burn her outfit as well as her shoes.
When the doctor told us the news, I think my heart stopped beating.
Caroline took my hand and said, “Oh, my God, Emerson.”
I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t respond. When I finally got my wits about me, I said, “I need you to call my director, and then I need you to take me home.”
“Right,” she said, grabbing her car keys.
“No,” I said. “Home to Peachtree Bluff.”
THIRTY-SEVEN
ansley: a better investment
As I sat on Jack’s front porch that morning—actually, my front porch—I still couldn’t believe it. Every morning for the past six weeks, I had woken up beside Jack and thought, Wow. My husband. Today was no exception. The normalcy of our life was extraordinary.
I gazed out at Starlite Island and could almost relive our incredible wedding, the moments we had shared, how astoundingly perfect it all was. And when I looked over there, I could see another moment with Jack on that island, one that had happened years ago. One that wasn’t quite as perfect.
I could still remember that morning, how trying it had been. Emerson was right in the thick of the terrible twos, while Caroline was a shockingly teenage-acting eleven, and Sloane, right in the middle, was trying to make peace but, that morning, in a whiny and grating way that was driving me crazy.
I was grateful for them always. I loved them constantly. But those children were going to send me to a mental institution. I had to get them out of the house and into the fresh air, and as soon as we piled into the boat that Daddy had kept tied at the dock for when they came down for visits, their moods shifted. There’s something about the salt air that can do that. I’m absolutely sure of it.
By the time we got to Starlite, they were all best friends again, Sloane and Caroline making sand castles and letting Emmy help. It was one of those golden moments, one of the ones that we really don’t get to have enough as parents, that make us feel whole, as though everything we have toiled for all these years has been worth it. For this one magical moment, all seems right with the world, and you feel pretty sure that your kids are not, in fact, going to grow up to be serial killers.
I felt so relaxed then that I actually let myself do something that took a monk’s level of devotion and concentration to avoid: I slipped back into a memory of Jack. It was nothing earthshaking, just one of the many days that we spent over at this island in our youth, him throwing a football with his friends, the way the tan of his skin and the blond of his hair made it seem like he would be young forever.
I turned my head to the right, to let the wind shift the hair out of my face, and when I did, I saw a man walking toward me. I scolded myself for thinking he looked like Jack. But when he threw me a small wave and a half smile, I realized that, as so often happens in life, I had been thinking about Jack, and now he had appeared.
“Caroline!” I called. “Watch your sisters, please, and no one get in the water.”
“OK,” she called back in a tone that was downright cheery, one I hadn’t heard in a long time.
I had loved Jack for years, had trusted him so much that I had children with him. But for some reason, my mom antennae were on high alert that day. For whatever reason, I didn’t want him near my girls, so I walked a few yards down the beach to meet him.
“Ans,” he said. “It’s you.”
I remember hugging him in my mint-green-and-pink bikini, him in his blue swim trunks, and wanting to pretend that I didn’t feel that same zip of electricity for him that I always had. But I had to consider that he might not have felt that same zip for me anymore.
“I didn’t know you were in town,” he said breezily. So breezily that it led me to believe he had known I was in town.
“Yup. Family vacation,” I said. I wanted to say something about Carter and that he had to run home to take care of something for work. But I couldn’t, for some reason.
Jack pushed his sunglasses up on top of his head and, squinting in the bright sun, asked, “Could I talk to you for a minute?”
That was when I knew for sure that Jack had known I was here and that, somehow, he had planned this.
“OK,” I said hesitantly. Maybe it made me foolish or high on myself, but I honestly thought this was going to be a conversation about us, how he missed us and wanted us together again. And as tempted as I would be, I knew I would say no. But nothing could have prepared me for what he said next.
“I know the situation with Carter might be tricky, but I was wondering how you might feel about letting me spend a little bit of time with Caroline and Sloane.” I felt my throat constrict. “They don’t have to know the truth or anything like that, but I would love to get to know them.”
I felt breathless. “What?” I whispered.
He was smiling at me, all happy, like this was the best idea he had ever had and that surely I was going to jump right on board. “Ansley,” he said. “Why do you look like I stole your puppy?”
I shook my head. “No, Jack,” I said. “No.”
He looked crestfallen. “Again, I’m not saying I want them to know I’m their biological father or anything like that. But I’d love to just take them out for ice cream or something. Anything.” He whispered, “They’re my children.”
That was when I felt strong. That was when my mama bear instincts kicked in at full force. “You can’t flip the script on me now, Jack. You agreed to this. This is what you asked for. You didn’t want children. I did. We couldn’t be together. Remember? I have Carter. I’m happy. I have a whole life. I won’t let you ruin it.”
Now it was his turn to look at me like I’d stolen his puppy. But honestly, did he think I was going to agree to this? It was too preposterous to even consider.
“I’m not going to ruin your life, Ansley,” he said, emotion lacing his voice. “I love you far too much to ever hurt you.”
That was it. Those were the last words Jack and I shared until our fateful meeting on his boat many years later. All I could say was what a difference a few years could make. Whereas that day on the beach, he had made me feel trapped and terrified, now, sitting beside me as my new husband, he couldn’t have made me feel safer.
I looked up at him now and said, “It feels weird with them all gone. It’s like those first few days when they would all be back in school and the house was quiet.” I paused and smiled up at him. “But now you’re here. And that’s pretty great, too.”
Jack leaned down and kissed me. “Well, my darling, I hate to leave you, but I’m going to go look at a building with Adam.”
“What?” I asked in surprise.
“Yeah. With the store downtown gone, we were thinking that someone should start a new one. Drinks, simple groceries, yacht provisions, a small deli. I think it would be a terrific business, and I’ve been looking for something to invest in.”
I laughed. “You’ve been looking to invest in Adam is what you’ve been looking to do,” I said.
“Can’t really think of a better investment,” Jack said. He stood up and patted my knee. “Family first.”
I stood up, stretched, and realized that I needed to be at work—it was almost ten, after all. I kissed my husband (my husband!) and walked down the street to my store.
I knew when I got there that Sloane would be in the window painting, enjoying her alone time, while my grandsons were safely at their preschool down the street. Vivi was loving sixth grade in Manhattan. Preston was accompanying his mommy in the mornings on her trips to Sloane Emerson New York. Emerson was as effusive as I had ever heard
her over her new role as Sissy—and more than a little relieved that she hadn’t, in the end, married Mark.
Life was so good right now. I bit my lip, as if even thinking that was tempting fate. But we had been through our fair share of surprises this year. For now, I had to assume, we were sailing as calmly ahead as the boats beside me, making their way through the glass-slick channel.
THIRTY-EIGHT
emerson: the status quo
In my life, things had always had an order. For good or bad news, I always called Caroline first. Then Sloane. Then Mom. Then, the past few months, Mark. Mark was no longer a part of my life, but still, I felt like this was news he needed to hear from me.
James had flown to LA to pick up Vivi, and Caroline and I were crammed like sardines in the back of coach. We had booked first class, but our first flight was delayed, causing us to be bumped off our second flight. We were lucky to be in seats 27D and E, by the bathroom, actually. I was wearing my cashmere travel mask Mom had gotten us all for Christmas, trying to sleep, which had been impossible the past two days. Every time I closed my eyes, I tried to picture how I was going to tell Mom the news. It was not something I ever thought I would have to face, not something I had even envisioned. I knew I wanted Jack there. She was stronger when Jack was there. And I had to admit that maybe I was, too.
Caroline was flipping through French Vogue. She had become fluent in French over the past ten years, when she decided to get Vivi French lessons and sat in on them as well. She thought French was very chic and that everyone should know how to speak it. It would come in handy now that she was going to Paris and Morocco every few months to buy items for the store.
“Have you decided about your new apartment?” I asked. I felt Caroline jump beside me. She must have thought I was asleep. But who could possibly sleep at a time like this?
“Um,” she said. “You know, Em, I think now is a time for the status quo.”
I pulled my mask up and looked at her. “Because of me, you mean? Because everyone will have enough to deal with, with me?”
She shook her head and said softly, “No, sweetie. I don’t mean that at all.” She flipped her magazine closed and handed it to me.
“I can’t read that,” I said. I, the uncivilized sister, did not speak French.
“I assure you, you can. There’s not a lot of translation. It’s basically interviews with beautiful actresses whom you know talking about how many Oscars they’ve won. You can figure it out.”
I rolled my eyes. “James,” I said. “Why are you trying to change the subject?”
“It’s not important right now, Em,” she snapped.
“Of course it’s important.”
Caroline sighed.
I wanted to say that even I knew that living with one foot out the door was no way to live. But frankly, I probably wasn’t the best person to give love advice right now, since I’d been jilted by my fiancé and then slept with my best friend and ignored the nine phone calls and seven text messages he had attempted since.
“Hey!” Caroline said. “You can come live in my apartment when you’re finished filming. Mount Sinai is amazing. You can even have a room with a view of the park.”
That did sound kind of nice, if you could consider any hospital anywhere kind of nice. It wasn’t exactly a place people wanted to visit.
“So what do I even say?” I asked.
Caroline shook her head. “I have no idea, sweetie. This is a tough one. I think you practice on Sloane.” She paused. “I mean, I can tell them if you want.”
I squeezed her hand. “Thanks. That would be really great.”
She went white, and I laughed.
“I’m kidding. I’m kidding. This should definitely come from me.”
Two hours later, the driver James had arranged to pick us up from the airport was dropping us at Sloane’s house. Well, Caroline’s house. Whatever. Real estate was very confusing these days.
I probably should have knocked, but I just walked in the front door, calling, “Sloane!”
“Em?” she called from upstairs.
“And Caroline!” Caroline called.
Sloane ran down the stairs. “Oh, my gosh!” she said, engulfing us in a hug as though it had been a year since she had seen us, not six weeks. “I am so excited!”
She must have seen the grave looks on our faces, because she sat down on the step. “OK, I’m not excited. What’s wrong? I feel like I can’t breathe.”
“Well . . .” I said, not knowing where to start. “I fainted on set. Fortunately, Caroline was there to take me to the emergency room.”
Sloane gasped. “Oh, my God. What is it? What’s wrong?”
“Actually,” I said, blowing all my breath out. Caroline and I had lots of secrets, but once I said this out loud to anyone else, it was real. Like really, really real.
But Sloane was starting to cry, and I didn’t want to keep her in suspense any longer, so I just said, “I’m pregnant.”
She jumped up off the step. “What?”
“That was really good,” Caroline said. “Play up that hospital part to Mom, because she’ll be so relieved you aren’t dying she’ll be less mad that you’re pregnant.”
Sloane threw her arms around my neck and almost knocked me down. “I know it isn’t probably the best news to you, but oh, my God, Em, this is the best news.”
I actually hadn’t expected her to react this way, but you never knew with Sloane. These days, she was all about the moment and living life and doing what felt good and throwing caution to the wind. Adam wasn’t the only one who had gotten a second chance at life.
“What did Mark say?” she asked.
“I haven’t told him,” I said truthfully.
“Emerson . . .” Caroline started.
I bit my lip and said quietly, “I haven’t told him because he’s not the father.”
“Emerson,” Sloane scolded. “Please tell me this isn’t a Maury Povich paternity-test situation.”
I shook my head and crossed my arms. “It isn’t that bad.”
“It’s worse,” Caroline said under her breath, and I slapped her arm with the back of my hand.
“It’s not worse.” There was a knock at the door, and Caroline stood to open it. I heard the front door creak behind me right as I said, “It’s Kyle.”
“Wow,” a voice from behind me said. “You must have eyes in the back of your head.” He had a very sarcastic tone. I didn’t blame him. I turned slowly and, looking down at my feet, contritely said, “Hi.”
Kyle handed Sloane a cup and said, “I’ll be on my way now.”
“Wait,” Caroline said before he could turn around. She pushed me toward him and said, “Emerson needs to tell you something.”
I glared at her, and she and Sloane scampered out of the room.
“What?” Kyle asked, crossing his arms.
“Um,” I started, looking around for anyone who could save me. “Maybe you should sit down.”
My phone beeped in my pocket. “Wow,” he said, as I sat down on the sofa beside him. “Your phone does work.”
“Kyle,” I said. “It’s not like that.”
“Then what’s it like?” he asked. “I wake up in the tree house to find you gone, my paddleboard gone, and myself completely humiliated.”
I knew I couldn’t defend myself. There was nothing I could say to make this right, so I just blurted it out. “I’m pregnant.”
“Great,” he said, crossing his arms. “That’s great. That’s fine if you and Mark are having a baby and getting back together and living happily ever after.” He stood up. “But you could have at least had the decency to shoot me a text.”
He was out the door before I could say anything else.
“You have got to work on your delivery,” Sloane said, peeking her head from around the doorframe.
“Yeah, Em, really,” Caroline said, her head on top of Sloane’s. They looked like a comedy skit in an old black-and-white movie. “You ruined h
is day. He might have been happy. You don’t know.”
I had heard it my whole life, so my sisters were only reiterating what I already knew: everyone, and I do mean everyone, is a critic.
THIRTY-NINE
ansley: the four horsemen of the apocalypse
Ordinarily, I would have screamed with joy when I saw my three girls walking up the front steps of Jack’s house. But it wasn’t my birthday. There was no reason for them to be surprising me. So that could only mean that these daughters were three of the four Horsemen of the Apocalypse.
They weren’t even in the house yet before I was opening the door and saying, frantically, “What’s wrong?”
“Why do you always go there, Mom?” Caroline groaned.
“Because the three of you don’t show up together unannounced unless something terrible has happened.”
It was true, whether they wanted to admit it or not. When Caroline was suspended for smoking in the bathroom? The three of them. When Sloane ran her car into the telephone pole? The three of them. When Emerson announced that she wasn’t going to college after all? The three of them.
“Just tell me,” I said. “Put me out of my misery.” Their little-girl problems had seemed big at the time. Their grown-up problems, I was learning, were much, much worse.
“Mom, inside, please,” Emerson said.
My heart sank. So it was Emerson. I knew it. I knew she was still sick. I knew that damn doctor was wrong. A mother’s intuition is always right. I glanced her up and down. But wow. She looked incredible. She looked the healthiest I had seen her look in years. I guess you never can tell what’s lurking underneath.
“Well, Mom,” she started nervously, “I fainted on set with Caroline yesterday.”
When she said she fainted, I almost fainted, because I knew this wasn’t good. I was absolutely beside myself, wracked with grief.
My breath was getting shallow as she said, “Caroline took me to the hospital, and they were in contact with my New York doctor all along the way . . .”
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