“I think she’s doing OK. She’s sad, but she knows she did the right thing.” And I said something that was so uncharacteristic his jaw dropped. “Today I’m going to focus on having the time of my life with you, and I’m going to worry about all our real-life problems tomorrow.”
“Well, actually,” he said, “we won’t have much time to worry about them tomorrow.”
I raised an eyebrow questioningly.
“I thought Connie was really onto something with that Greek isles thing, so you and I are going to take a three-week break and see it all.”
I opened my mouth to ask all the questions I needed to ask. Who would take care of my store? What about the client projects that needed to be finished? Who would feed Biscuit? Who would see Caroline back to New York and Emerson back to LA?
But before I could ask them, Jack said, “Sloane has it all covered, Ansley. I know you forget sometimes, but they are grown-ups. She is going to take over all your responsibilities while you’re gone, so don’t worry about a thing.”
I sighed and leaned into Jack, who put his arm around me.
“You are the most amazing man ever,” I said.
“I really am,” he agreed, kissing my temple.
We both laughed. A few minutes later, I was holding up the very sandy bottom of my dress while Jack helped me onto the boat he had borrowed back from Vivi for the day. What better way for the bride and groom to arrive at their wedding reception than in the boat where they had kissed for the very first time?
“I have dreamed about this day,” Jack said, “for forty-three years. And now, finally, you are all mine.”
As we drove away toward Starlite Island, I realized that I, too, had been dreaming of this day for forty-three years. But as my mind skipped to Emerson and her heartache and Sloane and how she would manage while I was away and Caroline and how she would settle back into her life in Manhattan with James, I realized that once a woman became a mother, she was never really all of anyone’s again—not even her own.
THIRTY-SIX
emerson: a family of secrets
Iwas sitting in one of the gold Chiavari chairs Caroline had rented for the reception, which were arranged around round tables adorned with white tablecloths and more of those astonishingly large peonies and hydrangeas in vases that were about half as tall as I was. Starlite Island at this time of night was beautiful no matter how you sliced it, but under a tent with twinkle lights, it was breathtaking.
The sun had almost set when Mom and Jack pulled up to rousing applause from the now semi-tipsy guests, who had made the most of the open bar at cocktail hour. Mom had insisted on using Kimmy for the food, which consisted of fresh fish and vegetables. It was amazing, but it didn’t soak up the alcohol quite like a cheeseburger.
I’d had a respectable three glasses of champagne that were making me feel light and buzzy but not drunk-drunk, which, let’s face it, I easily could have been. Hell, I probably should have been.
But I felt so much peace about the day, about Jack. When Scott and John had walked Mom down the aisle earlier, Jack had taken both of Mom’s hands in his and leaned down to kiss her on the cheek.
“Hey!” said Hal, who was officiating. “We’re not at that point yet.”
“Then hurry up!” Jack scolded, making the friends gathered laugh.
It was my favorite part of the day. That man absolutely could not wait to marry my mother. And I had to think that he couldn’t wait to be our stepfather, either.
In a lot of ways, I had thought our relationships were parallel: young loves that translated into grown-up ones. Mark and I had had young love. That was certain. But I could already see that we relied way too much on the past to help us create our future. Mom and Jack didn’t. Their relationship in the here and now was as dreamy as it had been when they were teenagers. And that was the difference.
Mom and Jack hugged a few people as they made their way into the reception, but the lead singer of the band interrupted their slow walk by saying, “Mr. and Mrs. Jack Richards, you are needed on the dance floor.” Jack put his finger up to the singer and, instead, motioned for Sloane, Caroline, and me to come over to him and Mom.
The bandleader was calling again. “The happy couple is wanted on the dance floor.”
Jack reached into his pocket and handed something to each of us. Three pieces of staurolite, one for each of the Starlite sisters.
Caroline held her piece up to her chest and smiled at me.
“I think these belong to you,” Jack said. “I used to pull them out and look at them almost every day to remind me of the girls out there somewhere who, even though they didn’t know me, were the most important part of my heart. And I used to dream that one day, I would get to know them. And I think it’s safe to say that is happening.” Mom leaned into him as he said, “I’m sorry I’ve had them for all this time, but, to be honest, I don’t think I could have made it through without them.”
Not a dry eye in the family.
It was a weird and wonderful moment, and I had to think that as we navigated this new life with our mother married to someone who wasn’t Carter Murphy, there would be a lot of moments like this.
None of us said a word as Mom and Jack made their way to the dance floor.
