I smiled, all the anger gone now. “It’s big for you, too, Jack. I know it is. And no one expects you to be perfect at this on the first day. I’ve been doing it for thirty-five years, and I still mess up more often than not.”
Then he asked me the question I had asked him all those years ago on Starlite Island: “What about Emerson?”
It broke my heart. Caroline and Sloane got a brand-new dad—their real dad, one who was living, breathing—but Emerson didn’t. Although Jack could be a wonderful father figure, I knew it wasn’t the same thing, which seemed unfair. But she was grown; she was getting married. I figured she would take the news in stride.
I didn’t realize yet, after twenty-six years of being that girl’s mother, just how wrong I could still be.
IN ADDITION TO TAKINGinventory at my store all day, the second punishment I had in mind for my girls was making them go to the monthly town meeting. I loved town meetings, seeing all my friends and neighbors in one place. Compared with the hate and terror happening in the rest of the world, the “serious problems” in Peachtree Bluff seemed comical.
Tonight’s meeting was going to be a doozy.
“I don’t understand why Sloane doesn’t have to come,” Caroline whined as we walked down the street toward Paradise Pub, where tonight’s meeting would be held. It was the dividing line between historic Old Town, which was established before the Revolution, and New Town, which was settled in 1776. You either lived on the northern side of Paradise or the southern side of Paradise. We were on the southern side, naturally.
“Yeah,” Emerson chimed in, “whydoesn’tSloane have to come? She was just as drunk as we were.”
“Drunker,” Caroline said. “And she was the one who decided it would be a good idea to order every martini on the menu.”
“Yeah,” Emerson said again. “If anything, Caroline and I are the victims here.”
Jack winked at me and took my hand. I wasn’t ready yet to sit the girls down and talk this out. I hadn’t decided if I should talk to Sloane and Caroline without Emerson or approach them all at the same time. Then there was that tiny two percent of me that hoped that if we never talked about it, it would all go away.
So to the girls, I just said, “Sloane is at home with her wounded national hero of a husband and her two children. She gets a pass tonight.”
“Did you forgetIhave two children?” Caroline asked.
“I did not,” I said. “Did you?” I turned back to where she was on the sidewalk and gave her the eye. James had taken the kids to visit his mother, and Caroline had begged off the trip, saying she had to work. Perhaps James had forgotten that her pushover of a mother was her boss. I wondered how long it would be until he finally started standing up to her again. “Your children won’t be here for two more days. Until then, you live under my roof.”
“Hooray!” Emerson and Caroline shouted at the same time, nearly making me jump out of my skin.
Jack smiled at me, and I shook my head.
The meetings at the pub were my favorites. It had a huge patio with dozens of strands of bubble string lights, plenty of places for us all to sit, and, of course, cocktails. I had a feeling that I was going to need one, as my daughters had turned back into whining teenagers.
But perhaps my favorite thing about the pub was its stage. It was really for bands, but Mayor Bob, who had been the mayor of Peachtree for as long as I could remember, stood up there to act as a moderator while his citizens aired their grievances. It could turn into quite the performance, considering that this was a town of artists, actors, musicians, and otherwise free-spirited people. It was organized chaos, with more emphasis on the chaos.
“Did Mark not want to come?” Caroline asked Emerson.
Emerson pointed at me. “Someone wouldn’t let him.”
“When you’re grounded, you don’t get to see your boyfriend,” I said with my most serious face. As I’d said since the beginning of time, if they were going to act like children, I would treat them like children. “This isn’t supposed to be fun.”
Only, it was a little fun.
Hippie Hal sauntered over, and I jumped up to hug him. “How was India?” I asked, noticing that the rope Hal usually wore to hold up his pants had been replaced by a woven belt.
Hal hugged Emerson and Caroline as he said, “It was great. But I missed my Murphy girls.”
He grinned at us. He didn’t even seem stoned, which was a little off-putting. As if he could read my mind, Hal said, “I have to have my full faculties tonight. I have something to present, and I know Mrs. McClasky isn’t going to like it. Not one bit.” He grinned conspiratorially. Hippie Hal and Mrs. McClasky had been feuding since 1995. She hated that he kept refurbished bikes on his lawn, and she hated even more that she couldn’t make him move them because there was no bike ordinance in New Town, where Hal lived, in a home built in 1789.
I was tired, frankly, of hearing them argue about it at every town meeting. So I hoped this was something different.
Emerson went to look for Jack and, I could only assume, flirt her way to the beginning of the bar line. It was amazing how a two-day hiatus had cured her proclamation to “never drink again.” I leaned over and whispered to Caroline, “Have Emerson and Mark made up?”
She nodded.
I shook my head.
“I feel like I’m not the person to give marriage advice,” she said. “Maybe you should say something.”
