Mom was bouncing Taylor on her hip, and he was cooing delightedly.
Emerson hugged Sloane, and Vivi held her arms out to Adam, which was comical, because he was probably half her size. But he went to her.
“Wow,” I said, hugging Sloane. “These are some amazingly well-adjusted kids. Vivi never would have done that.”
Vivi shot me a look. “Thanks, Mom.”
I laughed. “It wasn’t a bad thing. Just a difference in personality.”
“So what have I missed?” Sloane asked. “You know how much I hate it when y’all are here together without me.”
I cringed. They had her now. It was official. Once you go “y’all,” you never go back.
I winked at Emerson, whose hair was piled up on her head, making her cheekbones even more severe. I put my arm around Sloane and led her to the back door. “How about I fill you in on everything while Emerson whips you up some . . .”
I looked toward Emerson, who looked down at her watch. “Celery juice!” she exclaimed. “Sixteen whole ounces if you want.”
Sloane looked disgusted, her nostrils flaring. “I think Taylor peeing on me might end up being one of the more pleasurable parts of the day.”
“What if I get these guys into the bath?” Mom asked.
“I’ll help!” Vivi called behind her, struggling to carry Adam up the steps.
And then there were three. Three sisters, standing around the kitchen island, Emerson pulling two bunches of celery out of the refrigerator while I removed the juicer from the cabinet under the microwave drawer. It wasn’t that I was naturally helpful or caring. It was simply that she was so thin I wasn’t sure she would be able to handle the weight of the machine.
I pulled one of the stalks off of Emerson’s cutting board and crunched. “So,” I said, “the rumor around town is that Emerson has already slept with a guy named Kyle.”
Sloane’s eyes got wide. “Wait. You mean Coffee Kyle?”
“The very one,” I said, chewing.
Emerson laughed. “It’s not true, of course.”
“If there’s going to be a rumor, which, duh, there is, at least it was someone hot,” Sloane said.
This was the good stuff right here, three sisters sitting around talking and laughing like old times. I missed these girls so much. Being home for a while might not be that bad after all.
Emerson handed us each a wineglass full of green, pulpy stuff. Sloane and I looked at each other skeptically.
“You’re going to drink it, and you’re going to like it,” Emerson said sternly.
She walked out of the kitchen, and we followed her through the dining room and the family room out onto the wide front porch.
My phone buzzed in my pocket, and my stomach clenched. Before I even saw it, I knew it was James. Could I please talk to Vivi? I want to explain before tonight happens. Please don’t keep me away from her.
I laughed.
“What?” Sloane asked.
“Oh, nothing,” I said, continuing to walk toward my seat. I read in an article that more injuries occurred while texting and walking than while texting and driving, so I stopped. For the baby’s sake.
I am not keeping Vivi away from you. I can’t MAKE her talk to you. We are going to Peachtree. Need to get her out of the city.
The phone beeped again. You can’t take my kid away. What about school?
I typed back: I’m not keeping her from you. You need to give her some time to cool down. I couldn’t help it. I added: Best of luck on your TV debut tonight. I hope it’s everything you dreamed.
Then I turned the phone off, partly because I didn’t care what else he had to say, mostly because I didn’t want him to ask me the school question again. If I could hide it for a little longer, maybe I could make him see that keeping her in Peachtree this semester, while the show was airing, was a good idea. Which reminded me that I really did need to call a lawyer now.
Emerson and Sloane were chatting, but I was so distracted I couldn’t focus on what they were saying. I looked out over the porch railing. The views were by far the best part of this beautiful home. It seemed you could see forever from this front porch. Across the water, three wild horses roamed amid the sea oats, their hooves splashing in the tide. It couldn’t help but make me think of Emerson, Sloane, and me. When we were younger, our weeks at this house with our grandparents and great-grandparents felt like paradise.
The summer when Emerson was born is the first one that really sticks out in my mind, that I remember in detail. Our grandparents took Sloane and me over to Starlite Island almost every day while Emerson was napping. It was our special time to be with them. It brought us so much closer together.
That summer, Sloane and I spent hours exploring that island, wending our way through the trees and the marsh grass, occasionally coming upon a wild horse. We were always hunting for shells, and I’ll never forget the day I found one that I had never seen before. I was digging in the sand with Sloane, plotting how we would make our way to China. When I hit something hard with my plastic shovel, I pulled it out. It was a smooth, white rock with flecks of black, shiny spots. But the strangest thing was that on the top was a dark formation that looked like an X. I pulled it out, added it to the pile, and kept digging. Throughout the course of the day, I found two more of those stones. One for me, one for Sloane, and one for baby Emerson.
“Grandpop,” I asked later. “What is this?”
He pulled me onto his lap and, eyes big, said, “Why, Caroline. Where did you find those?”
“In the sand.”
“That is amazing,” he said.
Grammy came over to have a look, too. “Caroline!” she exclaimed. “Those are fairy stones!”
I didn’t know what that meant, but I liked the sound of it. “Fairy stones?”
“Yes,” Grandpop chimed in. “They’re fairy stones. Their real name is staurolite. The island is named for them. They used to be everywhere over there, though no one can figure out why. They’re normally found in the mountains.”
“Legend has it,” Grammy said, “the fairies who live on the island bring the fairy stones.” She paused. “Only very special little girls and boys get to find those, so you should feel honored.”
I was right at that age where the idea of fairies was still exciting, but I was also a bit skeptical.
“Keep it in your pocket,” Grandpop said. “It will keep you safe.”
“Keep me safe,” I repeated. “I got ones for Sloane and Emmy, so they’ll be safe, too.”
“That’s so nice,” Grammy said. “You can be the Starlite Sisters. These can be your special rocks, and Starlite Island will always be your special place.”
Sloane had been sitting on the floor, hanging on to every word. “Can we be fairies, too?” she asked.
I wasn’t sure that I wanted to be a fairy, although anyone could see that being able to fly would be nice.