If this was supposed to make me feel better, it didn’t. It was only accentuating the fact thattheywere his daughters. I was not.
“I approached your mom one day on Starlite Island, when you and your sisters were little. I had planned it all out. But that day, when I approached your mom, I saw you. And I realized that by being a part of their lives, I would mess up yours.”
I bit my lip. It was hard to explain how I felt, how this was such a slap in the face, like I was on the outside looking in. I wanted Jack to understand that, but for once, I found myself at a total loss for words.
Jack put his hand on my arm. “This is an impossible situation for me, Em. I don’t know how to act or what to do. I know it’s too much too soon, but I love you just as much as your sisters, Emerson. In my heart, you have always been a little bit mine because you are your mother’s. And in my heart, she has always been all mine. That’s how I’ve always seen it.”
It seemed ridiculous when he said it, but to stand there and look at his face, to see in his eyes how fervently he meant what he said, changed something in me that day. I didn’t just see Jack, the man in the yard, the one who was marrying my mom. I saw the Jack from thirty-five years ago, the one who sacrificed the most important part of himself for the woman he loved, even though he would never get anything in return.
I’ve always known in my heart that what makes me a good actress is my empathy, my ability to feel other people’s pain and to internalize it. I didn’t want to feel Jack’s pain right now. I couldn’t, and yet I couldn’t not. His whole life had been defined by this one big loss. But we both knew that Ansley Murphy chose her daughters over all else. If I didn’t get on board, he was in danger of losing everything he almost had all over again. He knew it, I knew it, the trees rustling in the yard knew it. And I had borne enough burdens this summer. I had taken responsibility for one huge thing I could never take back. Was I willing to do that again?
Jack cleared his throat. “I will never be your father. Carter is your father. Carter is Caroline and Sloane’s father. I’m just the guy marrying your mom. If you want me to be more, I can. If you don’t, I won’t.”
I nodded. I knew in that moment that I would always, in some ways, feel like a stranger in my own family now that I knew the truth. But this was the hand I had been dealt, and I had to choose how to play it. Did I want to be the one responsible for taking happiness away from Jack, for denying my mother the future that she so desperately wanted, even knowing that neither of them would ever do the same to me?
I cleared my throat and swallowed my tears, making a decision. It was one I knew I would have to continue to make over and over again, every day, until it really felt like it stuck. “Jack,” I said quietly. I looked up at him, that face so full of anticipation and worry. I could almost feel how badly he wanted to please me, to make something right that never could be.
“Yes?” he replied.
“Do you think you could walk me down the aisle?”
He put his hand over his heart, and I could see his eyes pooling with tears as he said, “Emerson, it would be the thrill of my lifetime.”
I hugged him, and he hugged me back, and I felt his worry dissipate. I felt him relax in the knowledge that he was going to get this second chance after all. I had granted him that. I had given him life when I didn’t have to. And I wondered if maybe that would be enough to atone for the death I had caused not twenty feet from the spot where we were standing.
I wondered if when Caroline and Sloane were close to him, Jack smelled like their father, if his scent, that of coffee and Brooks Brothers aftershave, made them feel some certain way, like they shared DNA, like he was half the reason they were on the earth. When I pulled away and saw how he was looking at me, like I was all he had ever wanted in all the world, I wondered if maybe it was possible that one day, Jack would smell like my father, too.
IN SOME WAYS, ITwasn’t the perfect time for the dresses to arrive. In other ways, it was the absolute perfect time. Sloane and Caroline were waiting for me in the guesthouse when I’d finished talking to Jack, wearing their beautiful couture gowns, standing at full attention on either side of the bed, holding pale-blue hydrangeas cut from Jack’s yard that matched the dresses perfectly. They were the same blue hydrangeas from the same bush that Mr. Solomon, Mom’s former neighbor, had left for her on the back porch as a peace offering.
In some ways, they were a peace offering now, too.
I smiled when I saw them. I knew they were trying to cheer me up. I put my hand on my heart. “You two look absolutely beautiful.”
That wasn’t exactly true. Sloane had no makeup on, and Caroline’s hair was in this slouchy, messy bun she wore when she hadn’t had time to do her hair yet that day. And they were both barefoot, not exactly ready to walk down the aisle. But the dresses were exquisite. They were the perfect shade of pale blue, with the tiniest hint of aqua that would mimic the water without making the whole effect go green.
“Try yours on!” Sloane said enthusiastically. She pointed to my closet, where the gown was hanging in a garment bag. It felt really, really wrong to try on my wedding gown without my mom. But then again, I remembered, I was mad at my mom. Why wait?
Plus, Caroline had already made the decision and started unzipping the garment bag.
“Be careful,” Sloane said. “Don’t snag the lace.”
Mom’s dress was hanging conspicuously beside mine. I wanted to see it, but I also wasn’t quite ready to part with my anger.
My sisters helped me step into the gown. Sloane zipped me up, and we all stood back from the mirror and admired it. It was made completely of lace and fit my body perfectly. It flowed out starting at about my knees so that I could walk, and it had a small train—which was impractical for a beach wedding, I had to admit. But I didn’t care. This was my one wedding, and I wanted a train.
I heard a gasp from behind me, and I turned to see my mom staring at me, her hand over her mouth. When I saw the tears in her eyes, my own started flowing silently down my cheeks like they hadn’t since I was a child. She walked toward me and, cautiously, took my hands in hers like Mark would do in just a few weeks.
“I recognize this,” she whispered.
“You should,” I said, not bothering to wipe my eyes. “It’s yours.”
Mom’s wedding gown had been simple and beautiful but too full for my tastes. Caroline, Sloane, and I had agreed that Mom wouldn’t mind if I had her dress remade. It would make her happy that one of her girls wore it, and knowing what I knew now, it actually made the most sense that I would be the one, since she had worn it in her wedding tomyfather.
“I hope it’s OK that I had it remade,” I said.
She smiled. “It’s perfect, Emerson. You look beautiful.” She took a deep breath and said, “I know you’re upset, and I understand why. I honestly, truly do.”
“Mom, it’s fine,” I said. “Let’s please not do this in front of the dress.”
