“Just did my hospital tour.”
“Ah,” she said. “And you didn’t pass out?”
“Nope. Just almost.”
“Good for you, lady. That’s major growth.”
“It really is.”
Emerson opened the car door, and even though it was hot inside, it still felt good to be out of there.
“So what’s up?”
“I know you’re not doing the social media thing,” Lucinda said, “but all our friends are dying to know who the Instagram hottie is.”
“Em, did you Instagram the pic of you and me and Kyle this morning?”
“Yeah,” she said absentmindedly. I could tell she was checking her e-mail.
“Well, I owe you. Lucinda says people are talking about it, and surely it will get back to James.”
“Oh, I’ll make sure it gets back to James,” Lucinda said.
I smiled. There was a bit of commotion from Lucinda’s end, and she said, “Got to go!” before hanging up.
“What?” Mom said, as she opened the car door. “What did I miss?”
I handed her the phone with the Instagram post open.
She gasped. “No! Caroline, you can’t catch a break.”
“Can’t catch a break?” I said. “That’s the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time.”
I read the first few comments. “Wait,” I said. “Is Kyle an actor?”
“Well . . .” Emerson said. “He isn’t an actor per se, but he’s going to have a one-line part in my movie. When somebody asked what he did in a comment, I didn’t think ‘barista’ sounded quite as revenge-ish.”
I turned to her as Mom started toward home. “You’re the best sister in the whole world!”
I was so excited by this turn of events I decided I wouldn’t even throw my new shoes away. Nope. After my shower and dropping my white dress into some Clorox, I would have someone thoroughly Lysol them. And then I’d give them to Emerson as a thank-you.
As we pulled into the driveway, I said, “OK, Mom. More info about Jack.”
“Nah. That was more like a hospital bribe. Now the moment’s over.”
“Noooooo!” Emerson cried, as Mom grabbed her purse and shut the door.
“Well, damn,” I said.
“It’s OK,” Emerson said. “I don’t need another piece of information to be totally sure that she’s in love with him.”
“You think?” I said.
But she didn’t need to answer for me to know that it was probably true. First loves never completely go away, after all. He seemed like a great guy, and I wanted to share in my sister’s excitement. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something we didn’t know about Jack.
FIFTEEN
ulterior motive
ansley
Whether he was near the calming waters of Peachtree or in the hustle and bustle of Manhattan, whether it was the best day of his life or the worst, Carter was an eternal optimist. Which is probably why it took me so long to understand how it was possible that he could have been killed in our country’s worst tragedy. Those things happened to other people. Not me. And certainly not Carter. He was one of the good guys.
In fact, for weeks after the attacks, I kept expecting him to walk through the door. It would be a sort of joke. “Oh, honey. You poor thing. You forgot I was in Hong Kong? I couldn’t get home because the airports were shut down.”
Something like that. Only he didn’t come home. We stayed in Manhattan for ninety-nine days. It took ninety-nine days for the fires to go out, and it was then and only then that I felt I could leave. I knew I would never see my husband again. I knew he was gone. I hoped he hadn’t suffered, but if he had, I wanted to know that I had been there with him the entire time. I had never left his side. I had been his wife until I was sure it was the bitter end. There was nothing more for me to do.
Then I packed my girls up and got the hell out of there. I had to. It was the only way.
I don’t know why Caroline became so afraid of hospitals and germs after that. It was so strange. Carter wasn’t in a hospital, although I assure you, we most certainly wished he had been. I kept hoping and praying that maybe he was there, maybe he had been rescued after all, maybe he had gotten a head injury, maybe he was in a coma and it would take a while to discover who he was. Then they would find us. It would be our miracle, the miracle that brought our family back together.
My miracle never came. It had always been Carter who believed in miracles. After we were married, after we had found out the two of us were never going to have a baby, he had still hoped.
But after another year or so, even my miracle-believing husband had become weary. “I’m forty-two,” he had said. “At this rate, I’ll be sixty-three before the first one gets out of college.”
“So let’s adopt,” I said. “Let’s get on some lists.”
Carter didn’t like the idea of that. “Just because we can’t have my baby, that doesn’t mean we can’t have yours.” I’ll never forget his saying that, the way he looked at me like I was this perfect specimen whose legacy needed to be maintained.
Truth be told, adoption wasn’t my first choice, either. I would have done it in a heartbeat if that were the only way. But I longed to carry a baby, to feel it inside me, to know it before it was born. I had seen my friends, that glow they got, the way I knew they must feel, like the most important people in the world. I wanted to feel important. I wanted people to ask me when I was due, to ask if I knew what I was having. I wanted all of that. Carter did, too.
I hated the term “artificial insemination.” It sounded like a sci-fi movie, like my baby was going to come from an alien life force. But it was fairly common.
Now, as I was lost in the past, lost in my thoughts about my husband, Caroline walked through the kitchen door, head wet, robe on.
“All clean?” I asked.
“All clean.”
“Why are you so terrorized by hospitals now, my love?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Too much Sixty Minutes, I guess. Sometimes you wish you didn’t know things. You know what I mean?”
I knew exactly what she meant. More than she could possibly imagine.
Sloane had stepped up for Caroline’s second hospital visit in as many days. Sloane was nothing if not a calming influence.
Evidently, the major part of the hospital tour was filling out the paperwork, something that Caroline had failed to do in her panicked rush to get out of there the day before. I thought I would throw up when I heard the message. So I had done what any good mother would do. I’d tapped on Sloane’s door. “Hi, darling,” I had said.
“Hi, Mom.”
“I would love to keep the kids in the morning. It’s story time at the library, and it’s so adorable. They’ll love it. I’ll take them for a stroll afterward and maybe to lunch. We can go to the club, where they can run around outside, not have to be stuck in high chairs.”
Sloane had smiled at me warily. “That sounds great, and I’m not questioning your status as a terrific grandmother, but I feel like there’s an ulterior motive here.”
I had shot her my best wide-eyed, insulted look. “I have no idea what you mean. Of course, if you wanted to go with Caroline to the hospital to fill out her paperwork, I wouldn’t stop you . . .”
Sloane had laughed. “I’ll go with her. You and Emerson had to do it yesterday.”
Emerson had popped her head in. “Never again,” she’d said.
Now I asked Caroline, “You feeling OK about everything? Are you sure you want to have the baby here? Because you won’t be able to fly back to New York soon.”
She nodded. “I know.” She raised her lip. “I guess I have to call James and tell him we’re staying here. Do I have to let him come for the delivery?”
I couldn’t imagine having that man in the room to deliver our baby, when he was running all over television with some tramp who, if you asked me, wasn’t nearly as beautiful as my Caroline. Edie Fitz
gerald was one of those girls who photographed really well but looked kind of strange otherwise.
Vivi flew into the kitchen. “Mom! Mom!”
I was happy to see her this excited. She seemed to be adjusting shockingly well. But I had a feeling that being in Peachtree was a vacation, simply prolonging the true agony. When they got back home, that was when things were going to get dicey.
Caroline held her arm out for her daughter to get under. “Can I go to the set with Emerson? Please, please, please!” Vivi begged.
She laughed. “Honey, I don’t know. Did she ask you?”
“I did,” Emerson said, appearing from around the corner. “I thought it might be fun for her to come with me.” She paused. “And, well, when they see how fabulous she is, I’m sure they’ll have to come up with a part for her.”
Caroline gave her sister the evil eye, and Emerson smiled triumphantly. Caroline couldn’t say no now, after Emerson had asked in front of Vivi. It was wrong on so many levels, but Emerson obviously knew that.
I, for one, was relieved that the filming was starting so my child could eat again in the near future. It was worrisome.
As Emerson and Vivi left, Sloane, Taylor, and Adam came in. Adam rushed to the toy workbench in the corner that I had gotten for him. Much to my delight, Taylor reached his arms out to me. I smiled triumphantly.
“Hi there, Taylor,” I said, kissing my grandson’s cheek. “A little Southern gentleman, just the way I like them.”
Caroline rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I probably should have listened to you on that one. Why did I have to rush off to New York? I could have gone to college in South Carolina or somewhere and met a guy there. Then I wouldn’t have to deal with all this right now.”
We all laughed. The mere idea of Caroline living anywhere but New York was like the idea of a fish suddenly growing legs and walking on the land.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. It was a text from my brother Scott. I held my breath. Mom seems fine. Kind of moody sometimes. But fine. Overreacted.
Thank the Lord.
The phone buzzed again. Love, Your FAVORITE brother.
I smiled.
The doorbell rang, and Taylor looked at me disconcertedly. “It’s OK,” I said. “It’s just the doorbell. Let’s go see who it is,” I practically sang.
When I first saw the outline of a young man’s body through the paned glass, I thought it was Kyle with some new concoction. But as I got closer, I realized it wasn’t Kyle at all. And I knew, without question, that our quiet girls’ day was coming to an end.
I’ve always been that woman who thinks of the right thing to say after the fact. In the moment, I’m tongue-tied and stupid, but afterward, I discover the perfect words.
Not this time. Nope. I had played it out plenty in my head. And I wasn’t letting the moment pass.
“I’m sorry” was the first thing James said. Not the best opening argument I’ve ever heard from a lawyer, but maybe not the worst, either.
I laughed. I hoped it sounded malicious.
“I am, Ansley,” he said. He was all New York City–slick in his suit and tie and fancy shoes. The men around here would have eaten him for lunch. I bet he’d never even cut his own grass. “I don’t know what I was thinking or what I was doing, but I’ve loved Caroline from the moment I saw her.”
I crossed my arms. I hoped he’d noticed that I had yet to invite him in. “You have a funny way of showing it,” I said.
He looked down at his feet. “I think I must have lost my mind or something.”
I nodded. “Lost your wife, too, so I hope it was worth it.”
He looked shocked. “Do you really think I’ve lost her?”
I was incredulous. “Are you serious? Have you met her?” I still hadn’t invited him in.
“I just want a chance to explain.”
This was where it got good. This was where I made up for all those times I didn’t say what I meant. “I’d like a chance to explain, too,” I said. “I’d like to explain that you have never been good enough for my daughter. I have never thought you were. I’ve always thought you were untrustworthy and slimy and that you tried to buy her love. She always has been and always will be too good for you. I can’t imagine that she would even think about taking you back, but if she asked my opinion, I’d tell her not to.”
It might have been the first time I’d seen James stunned speechless. I opened the door wider and motioned with my arm to let him through.
I waited for that feeling to set in, the one where I felt bad about what I said, where I wished I could take it back somehow. But that feeling never came.
SIXTEEN
pregnancy fetish
caroline
I was almost eighteen by the time we moved to Peachtree. I had already been accepted into NYU summer school and was actively searching for summer jobs or internships in the city. When Mom kidnapped us, forcibly removed us from the center of the universe, and relocated us to the seventh circle of hell, as it seemed to me at the time, I knew I was going to be living there for only a few months. There was no point in getting a license or learning to drive. I was raised having a driver, and I knew the subway system like the back of my hand. That was the beauty of living in Manhattan. It was a pedestrian city.
I was still in the kitchen talking to Sloane and Emerson that day when Mom went to answer the door. I filled them in on the tiny tidbits I’d gained from Mom about Jack. I opened the refrigerator door to look for my coconut yogurt. We were out.
“Hey,” I said, turning back around. “Could one of you take me to the grocery store tomorrow?”
“Caroline, for God’s sake,” Emerson said. “We’re sick of driving you around. You have to get a license.”
“I don’t need a license. You two can take me everywhere.”
Emerson and Sloane looked at each other wearily.
“Can you even imagine that I came to this brand-new world with no Uber? I’m in shock enough, and now you want me to get a driver’s license?”
“Honey, it’s a normal thing. We’re not asking for something crazy here.” Emerson paused. “Plus, I’m pretty sure you won’t want to haul a car seat in and out every time you have to go somewhere.”
Oh, my God. I looked down at my belly. I wasn’t delusional. I knew this baby was coming. I had simply forgotten about all of that. The car seats and the breastfeeding and the sleepless nights. I could feel my heart racing in my chest. I was going to be a single mother. A single mother. It sounded so blue-collar.
I barely got through having Vivi, and James was like Super Dad. How in the hell was I going to do this alone?
Earlier, James had texted me: Hey, Car. I know you’re pissed, but I really want to see Vivi. I’m going to stop by the apartment tonight.
I typed back, rapid-fire: We’re already in Peachtree.
I get the feeling you’re avoiding me.
How astute.
I miss my kid, he typed. You’re coming back by Friday to get ready for school to start, right?
Hmmm . . . Keeping him from getting suspicious was going to be tricky.
I’ll call you tomorrow.
I knew I couldn’t hold him off forever. But if I could make it another week or so . . . I still hadn’t decided whether it would be better to go ahead and tell him now that we were moving for the semester, giving him time for it to soak in, or to spring it on him later. We all knew it was easier to ask forgiveness than permission—unless it negatively affected your upcoming custody case. Then that was a different matter. Part of me wanted to have Vivi tell him, but I knew that was not a good parenting move. I needed to buy more time.
“Yeah, Caroline,” Sloane said. “You might meet the new love of your life if you get your driver’s license.”
I raised an eyebrow. But yeah, the girl knew how to get to me. I was intrigued. “How’s that?”
“Oh, I know,” Emerson said. “Remember how Sloane was always getting speeding tickets when we were younger?”
Poor Mom.
“You could get pulled over,” Sloane said. “You’re reaching for your license and registration as the sexy cop saunters up to the car and lowers his aviators at you.”
“He has that three-day beard you love,” Emerson said. She paused and added, “And a pregnancy fetish.”
We all laughed. “And you say, ‘Here’s my license and registration, Officer,’ ” Sloane said.
Emerson chimed in, “And he says, ‘All I need is your number, little lady.’ ”
“And then he takes you out to a beautiful dinner with white tablecloths.”
Emerson scrunched her nose. “No, Sloane. Then he makes out with her on the hood of the cop car.”
Sloane’s turn to scrunch her nose. “Ew, Em. No. Nice dinner.”
They both looked at me as though they were waiting to hear my choice. I smiled. Then I grabbed the laminated sheet out of Emerson’s hand with pictures of all the road signs on it.
“Fine.” I sighed. “I guess I can get my driver’s license.”
“Yay!” Sloane said.
I rolled my eyes. It wasn’t like I was getting my PhD.
I heard Mom call, “Caroline!”
I reached up over my head. I was at that point in my pregnancy when my skin wasn’t stretching quickly enough to keep up with my expanding belly, and it felt tight and itchy. Oh, my God, I thought, as I walked through the dining room. What if I get stretch marks? I had been very young when I had Vivi, after all.
Between the dining room and the living room, I stopped dead in my tracks. I hadn’t expected to be caught so off guard. I hadn’t had time to formulate my story, to be charming, to try to finagle my way out of this thing that I had done that was very, very wrong. I had brought Vivi for vacation. That was my story, and I was sticking to it.
“What are you doing here, James?”
He had on my favorite suit, with the loafers I had gotten him for Christmas. Why did he have to look so handsome? It was horrible, adding insult to injury. At least if he had let himself go a little . . . Although if he’d let himself go a little, we wouldn’t be in this mess, because what in the world would Edie Fitzgerald have wanted with him?
Slightly South of Simple Page 11
