That eased my fears. If something serious was going on with Emerson, she would have told her sister.
I loved that Caroline and James were letting Sloane and Adam live in their house while they got back on their feet. I loved that my grandsons were right down the street. I loved that Caroline, Vivi, and Preston had to stay with me because their house was occupied. And I would love it if Emerson stayed in Peachtree, too. But I wanted her to put her happiness first.
“OK,” Caroline said, opening her massive book. “Let’s get down to it. I think the first thing we need to pick is the venue. Then we can nail down a date.”
“Actually,” Emerson said, “we’ve decided we want to get married Labor Day weekend. All of our friends will be down here already, and...” She paused dramatically. “I have to be back in LA the next Tuesday.”
She cut herself off, but we could all tell there was more to that story.
“Why do you have to be back in LA the next Tuesday?” Sloane took the bait first.
“Well,” Emerson crooned, looking ecstatic. Mark looked less ecstatic. “I just found out that I am playing Sissy in the new film version ofA Tree Grows in Brooklyn.”
I heard my gasp before I felt it in my chest.
Sloane jumped up from her seat and ran around the table to hug Emerson. “I don’t even care that you’re sweaty!” Sloane exclaimed.
“Wait just a minute,” Caroline said. “You mean to tell me that they hired you to play Sissy? The one with all the cleavage?”
Looking at Emerson, who had a body more like Twiggy than Marilyn, I had to admit it was a fair question.
Emerson crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. “That’s what push-up bras are for, Caroline.” We all laughed.
“Em,” I said, “this is unbelievable.” I could feel tears in my eyes. I was so proud of her. She had worked so hard for every role, big or small, that she had gotten.
“It really is unbelievable,” Mark said under his breath. I didn’t love the way he said it, as if what wasreallyunbelievable was that someone would leave him. But acting was Emerson’s first love. Anyone who was with her would have to understand that.
Caroline glanced at me across the table. This was exactly what we’d talked about last night: Mark wanted Emerson all to himself.
Sloane, oblivious to our silent discussion, was crying. “You’re going to win an Academy Award. I’m going to have a sister who’s an Oscar winner!”
Emerson laughed. “OK, OK. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. It’s an amazing part, but an Academy Award?”
You could almost see her goose bumps as she said it.
“I wanted to complain about having to plan your wedding in two months,” Caroline said with a smile, “but now that I know you’re getting ready for the role of a lifetime, I’m going to be OK about it.” She opened her binder again. “Labor Day will be absolutely glorious anywhere in Peachtree Bluff.” She paused. “I’m assuming you want to have it in Peachtree? I mean, I have an entire section of destination-wedding locales if you’d like to look at those.”
I looked at Caroline in astonishment as Emerson said what I was thinking: “When did you have time to put this all together?”
“She’s a vampire,” Sloane said. “She doesn’t need sleep.”
“Exactly,” Caroline agreed. “But I do need coffee. I’m going to kill Kyle if he doesn’t get here soon.”
“We’d like to get married in Peachtree,” Mark said, chuckling. “But thank you for your thorough research, Caroline. It is much appreciated.”
“In that case,” Caroline said, “I have several options, but the one I think you’ll like the best is getting married at St. James’s and then having the reception at the Yacht House.”
The Yacht House was a beautiful old shingled building with twenty-foot ceilings whose entire back wall opened onto the water. It had a huge deck and the prettiest view of the sunset. I could get on board with that.
“I love the Yacht House,” Mark said enthusiastically.
Emerson scrunched her nose. “Why don’t we do the rehearsal dinner there?”
“OK,” Caroline said, jotting it down in her notebook. “Do you still want to do the ceremony at the church?”
Jack walked in from the kitchen, sat down beside me, and squeezed my shoulder, seeming like his usual self today. He kissed my cheek, and I smiled, but neither of us said a word. This was wedding planning. It was serious.
Emerson shrugged. “I want something kind of different.”
