EIGHT
a total no-brainer
caroline
My sisters have always accused me of having the biggest mouth. They aren’t wrong. Things fly out of it. It’s like I don’t know what I’m going to say. Mom says I should be able to control this, but I swear I can’t. I blame it on the New Yorker in me. We don’t filter like Southerners. If you can’t take the truth, stay out of the Yankee’s way. And the truth now was that Emerson, as much as I loved her, was kind of a slut and looked like she had an eating disorder. I didn’t think I should be punished for pointing out these very true things.
To defend myself further, she looked like she was taking my house. And I was nesting. It was a very fragile time. I didn’t need to be goaded during my fragile time.
“Emmy,” I called. “I’m trying to apologize to you. I misjudged the situation.”
I tried her door. It was locked.
“I’m a hormonal, moody cow, and I have even less filter than usual, and I can’t be trusted.”
“No, you can’t!” she called.
“Could you please unlock the door so I can apologize to you properly?”
The door flew open. She was wearing a gauzy white tank top that showed a hint of her practically nonexistent midriff when she moved just right. Her hair was that gorgeous LA blond, kind of wavy and very multidimensional, like she had spent a day on the beach and her hair had just happened. And she still had those eyes. Those big blue eyes, just like Mom’s. When you saw her on-screen, she was stunning. In real life, she was almost so beautiful you had to look away. It was like a light so bright you’re afraid it will burn your eyes.
I was thinking how insanely lovely she was, maybe more so than ever, when she said, “You are like twice the size you were when you were pregnant with Vivi.”
Well, now. That stung. I nodded and bit my tongue. “OK. I deserved that. I probably am. I am old and alone and giant. And that’s what I deserve, because I’m such a bitch to my sweet, loving sister.”
She threw her arms around my neck. “No, you aren’t! You aren’t any of those things. You’re positively glowing. You look better than I’ve ever seen you. I’m sorry I said that.”
That was the difference between the two of us. She couldn’t stand to be the least bit mean, even if she was telling the truth, which clearly she was.
“So did you really unpack my stuff for me?”
She nodded. “Yes. There wasn’t nearly enough closet space, so Kyle and I set up some racks. I wanted you to feel settled and at home.”
I put my hand on her cheek. “You’re such a good, sweet sister and person.”
She grinned. “I really am.”
Emerson looked out the window. The only benefit her room had over mine was the glorious view of the harbor. She had a direct view of Starlite Island, the one we loved so much, with its few feet of sand, perfect for beach chairs and football, and the thick, dense tree line behind it. Those stunning horses that looked so gentle but were really so powerful would come and go, eating the grass and sea oats. Sailboats of all varieties—old and new, classic and shabby, large and small—occupied mooring balls in the harbor. Watching the sailboats was like a meditation on life. They made their way so gracefully.
“You should really rebound with Coffee Kyle,” Emerson said, raising her eyebrows at me.
I laughed. “Yes. I’m sure the hottest twenty-something guy we’ve ever seen will be deeply interested in a mid-thirties pregnant divorcée. He will be crawling all over me.”
She shrugged. “Stranger things have happened.”
I couldn’t imagine it, starting over again. I hadn’t been on a date in fourteen years, hadn’t slept with a man who wasn’t my husband. I couldn’t envision having to become that comfortable with someone again, having to get to know him, fall in love. In some ways, I couldn’t fathom that it was possible. And so I guess I understood my mom a bit better. Opening your heart again, letting someone in after you knew what intense damage was possible . . . It was scary, to say the least.
“You don’t want to sit around here forever and get old and dry up. Just saying. You might want to start hunting.”
“Emerson, there are three thousand people in this town. How many single men could there be?”
An alarm buzzed on her phone. “Time for my green juice!” she cried, as if she were saying “Time for my seven-layer chocolate cake!”
I took her hand. “Look, hon, I know I was mean earlier about how thin you are. But my apology didn’t change the fact that I mean it. You look sort of scarily emaciated.”
“I’m sure I do. I had to lose ten pounds for this role. I’m playing a model.”
“Promise that’s all it is?”
She grinned at me. “Of course I promise. Caroline, it’s my first starring role ever. And millions of people will actually be watching me!” she sort of half squealed.
I couldn’t help but smile. I wanted it all for her. I always had.
“You know how much this job means to me.” Emerson practically bounced up off the bed. I sort of lumbered off. We stood side by side, and she bumped her skinny hip with my heavily padded one. “I think this job means a little something to you, too.”
She wasn’t wrong. I loved saying that my sister was on her way to stardom. Rumor had it that she would be one of People’s 50 Most Beautiful People this year. That was a total no-brainer to me. She should be the one most beautiful person. Well, maybe once she regained that ten pounds. It was an honor that we all believed would take her career to the next level.
We walked downstairs, and it made my heart happy to see my girl down there, so quiet and so demure, so unlike her mother and her aunt, baking with her grandmother. Mom said something to Vivi, and they both laughed. I couldn’t help but think that while I certainly wouldn’t say we belonged here, this was a good diversion from all the turmoil back home. Vivi deserved as normal a life as possible. That was what I would say to the judge when he was trying to put me in jail for kidnapping her.
I ran my hand along the railing—it was original to the house—and continued down the stairs. Mom had done such a beautiful job with this place. When we moved here, it was so old and out of date. And now it was the brightest jewel on a very shiny street, without a doubt. I remembered well when the kitchen had had layer after layer of green linoleum, outdated appliances, fake paneling on the walls, avocado-green laminate countertops with big chunks missing.