Caroline ran her hand through her hair. “You could do the Bluefish Club, or the Sea Oats.”
Emerson looked bored. “That’s definitely not different.”
“What about the Historic Site?” Sloane asked, referring to the beautiful green space in the midst of Peachtree Bluff’s oldest part of town, which included a historic jail, an apothecary, a schoolhouse, and a beautiful home complete with a full catering kitchen.
Caroline nodded. “We could tent the whole thing and have Peachtree Grocery cater.”
“That might be cool,” Mark said.
“Maybe,” Emerson said unenthusiastically.
Caroline looked at Jack, and he looked at her, and there was something unsettling in that look, but I couldn’t put my finger on what. I could tell Caroline was getting a little desperate now, because there were only so many venues that could hold 150-plus people in the Peachtree area. And knowing Emerson, she was going to have a big wedding.
“You could do it here,” I said, wondering if that was the right offer.
“Or at my house,” Jack chimed in.
Emerson nodded. “That would be better, but...”
“I know!” Caroline exclaimed. “I’ve got it. It’s perfect. You can get married on the sandbar.”
Emerson gasped, and Mark laughed.
“Yes!” she squealed. “Yes, yes!”
I felt my heart drop into my stomach. I looked at Jack, and he smiled sadly. There went our wedding. At least we still had Starlite Island.
“But there’s no way the sandbar will stay out long enough for us to do a reception there, too.”
“Oh, my gosh!” Sloane exclaimed. “We could do the reception at Starlite Island.”
“Yes!” Emerson said.
Never mind.
“We could transport all the guests on Jack’s boat,” Caroline enthused. She paused. “I mean, if it’s OK with Jack, of course.”
He nodded and smiled, but I could see the disappointment in his expression. This was our wedding. I think this might have been his first lesson in parenthood: your children’s happiness is more important than your own.
“Whatever the girls want,” he said. “I’m here to serve.”
I was about to finally add something to the conversation when I heard, “Hello, hello, Murphy girls,” from the entrance hall.
“Kyle!” Emerson trilled, running to meet him. Caroline was right behind her. “Thank goodness the coffee is here. My brain will begin functioning.”
Emerson gave Kyle a side hug as he balanced the Coke crate he had converted to a drink carrier around his neck.
I didn’t think anything of it. Emerson was a hugger. But Mark rolled his eyes and looked out the window, shaking his head. That was another thing he was going to have to get over. Emerson’s basic personality was affectionate and borderline flirty. It was who she was. Always had been.
Caroline grabbed two cups and walked back to the table, handing mine to me.
“Not so fast, Car,” Kyle said, handing her another cup. She raised her eyebrow suspiciously.
He handed a fourth cup to Emerson. “Sip, please,” he said.
“What is it?” Emerson asked.
“Surprise,” Kyle said.
