6. Caroline Front-Runner #2
I pinned on my happiest face, wondering how I would ever casually eat a salad when I knew what was brewing. Was I shirking my mom duties by asking Emerson to talk to Vivi? Putting something hard off on my sister because I didn’t want to face it?
Speaking of mom duties. “Sloane, where the heck is Mom?” I asked as we reached the sunny Peachtree sidewalk.
Sloane turned to look at me, confused. “What do you mean?”
Before Sloane could answer, I saw Hippie Hal riding his bike down the street—in a full-on cape. He looked like the Phantom of the Opera. I ran over to him, and he stopped, getting off the bike to hug all three of us, even though he saw Sloane every day. “The Murphy girls reunited,” he said.
I pointed up and down. “This is not your normal jeans-and-rope-belt uniform. What gives?”
“Just thought I’d try something new. It’s dramatic. You like?”
“I love it,” Emerson said. “Very chic.”
Hal laughed. “Just kidding. We’re preparing for the Spooky Graveyard Tours at the Old Burying Ground for Halloween, and Mrs. McClasky is having us all try our costumes on to make sure they don’t need to be altered.”
I shook my head and laughed. The Old Burying Ground was one of the oldest and most famous in the state, with headstones harkening back to the early 1700s.
People came to tour all year—but especially at Halloween.
I’d always found it really peaceful, but, under the right circumstances, it could definitely be creepy.
“You’re practicing for Halloween already?” Sloane asked.
“So many people have started coming in from out of town for the Graveyard Tours all year long that Mrs. McClasky wanted to make sure we were really ready this year. Some of the costumes—especially the Revolutionary War soldier ones—need altering, and they all need cleaning. She wants us pressed and polished this year since we’re getting a lot of media attention. ”
I tried to control my laughter. “Well, I think that’s just great that you humor her.”
“No choice, really,” he said. “You know Mrs. McClasky.”
“Admittedly, not as well as you do,” Emerson said.
Hal winked at her, and we all laughed. Hal and Mrs. McClasky were, on the surface, mortal enemies.
Hal ran a bike repair shop on the side and his lawn was continuously littered with both projects in the works and bikes for sale.
It drove Mrs. McClasky insane. At least once or twice a year she brought up at a town meeting that those bikes were against code.
But Hal always won the fight, and the bikes had become one of those weird, iconic Peachtree Bluff things.
Beyond that, they disagreed about every policy, rule, and strategy in town.
We were some of the few that knew they were actually secret lovers.
“You ever going to take your relationship out into the daylight?” I asked.
“What relationship?” he asked coyly. “Well, have a good day, Murphy girls.”
And then he was off, pedaling down the street.
I looked back at Sloane. “Mom?”
We all started walking again. “I figured Mom was in New York with you. I thought it was really weird she didn’t fly back with you guys.”
“Um, no. She definitely was not.”
I looked at Emerson. “Don’t look at me. She certainly wasn’t in New York with me. I didn’t even know she was out of town. I don’t monitor her every move like you two.”
“We don’t monitor her, Emerson,” Sloane said.
“You live in her house, Sloane,” she fired back.
“Because mine is never ever going to be finished,” Sloane practically shrieked. “Do you think I want to have my husband and two sons crammed into Mom’s guesthouse? Do you think that’s my ideal situation? Have you ever shared a bathroom with three boys, Emerson? Have you?”
She scrunched her nose. “Geez. Sorry. It was just a joke.”
It hadn’t felt like just a joke to me. It had felt like a dig at our middle sister, the only nice one, who was hanging on by a thread.
“Okay, so maybe Mom and Jack needed a getaway and just didn’t mention it.” I was picturing them in Paris. And the Greek Isles. And Mustique. But she had only blocked out two days on Leah’s calendar.
“Um, guys,” Emerson interrupted. “No offense, but who cares?”
She was right. Mom was grown. She was married. She didn’t need us interfering in her affairs. She could come and go as she pleased. “Yeah, you’re right. It doesn’t really matter where she is. Although it is odd.” I stopped. “Where are we drinking?”
Sloane and Emerson both shrugged, and I sighed. “So we’re just aimlessly walking around?”
“I think we just assumed you would make us eat wherever you wanted anyway, so we were following you.”
I smiled sarcastically. “Fine. Great. I’d like Full Moon. But first…” I pointed toward the water.
They followed me down the boardwalk. The sound of my sandals tapping on the wood instantly soothed me.
I leaned against the wooden railing, looking out at the dock, full of fishing boats and center consoles, the sailboats moored in the waterway beyond, and, of course, Starlite Island, my beloved happiest place, where my sisters and I had practically been raised with our toes in the sand, where I had taken my children so often when they were little, where the ashes of my beloved grandparents rested in peace.
Emerson and Sloane were chatting, but all I could think about was Vivi, my baby girl, that little thing who used to toddle to the edge of the water and squeal delightedly at the way the surf lapped her toes.
Growing up was the goal. Even still, it broke my heart to realize that, maybe, my baby wasn’t such a baby anymore.