10. Sloane Team Vivi Forever
sloane: team vivi forever
SISTERS MAKE THINGS THAT SHOULDN’T be funny just a little bit funny. None of us thought Vivi’s first broken heart was a laughing matter in the least. Obviously. But when Emerson imitated her dramatic monologue, Caroline and I were in stitches.
“Mom!” Emerson-as-Vivi was practically wailing, “I know exactly how you feel now. I didn’t understand how awful it must have been for you when Dad cheated. Now I know what it’s like to have your life ripped apart!”
In the moment, this morning in Vivi’s room, as she was strewn across her bed like disheveled covers, we had all been very serious about her melodrama.
But now, at brunch on the front patio at Peachtree Grocery, sitting underneath one of its green-and-white-striped awnings, we were able to have a little laugh.
This morning had already been pretty stressful, and I was just a bit jealous of my sisters’ hot apple cider with cinnamon sticks spiked with bourbon.
I smiled, putting my hands on my stomach.
It was totally worth it. The last few days the baby had been kicking like crazy, and it made me feel so much more confident.
I loved feeling my baby, so full of life.
Plus, apple cider was delicious all on its own and made me so excited that fall was right around the corner.
It was still warm, sure. But there was that crispness in the air that made the cider go down perfectly.
Mom, Caroline, Em, and I had gone over to the Peachtree Bluff Inn to pick the rooms for the bridesmaids and groomsmen to stay in.
Mom had insisted—and tradition dictated—that she would pick up the cost of their rooms. And Emerson being Emerson, she wanted to pick out each specific room for each specific person, as they were all slightly different.
So, our morning had been a lot of “Well, Morgan loves pink, so I feel like she should get the pink room. But, on the other hand, Greg hates pink, so maybe we should give it to him.”
When all eyes were on her questioningly, she said, “What? I don’t like Greg. I’d love to irritate him.”
Lucky Kyle got to get out of this morning’s super-fun errand. No wonder he insisted on staying in New York with Carter. He knew if he came, he’d have extra wedding planning to do.
Now, Caroline said, “Yes. I’m so glad that a kiss as part of a game with her high school boyfriend is something my daughter considers up there with her father cheating on her mother on national television with a reality TV star. Definitely the same thing.”
I smiled. I hadn’t dated much in high school.
After our father died, it took me a long time to let myself love someone again.
It wasn’t until Adam, actually, that I really did.
But Drama Queen One and Drama Queen Two had had breakup performances that could rival any I’d ever seen on TV.
“I remember two sisters of mine who had their fair share of life-ending breakups.”
“Who, me?” they asked simultaneously, looking at each other like surely I meant the other one.
“Are you serious? Yes. Both of you. You were both such brats about boys.”
What happened next was something I couldn’t have orchestrated any better if I had tried. As if he heard us speaking about high school boyfriends, Wes, Caroline’s once-high-school-boyfriend-turned-sometimes-Peachtree-fling, appeared on the sidewalk.
“Oh no,” Emerson said under her breath.
I echoed the sentiment. Even from a few feet away, there was something slightly manic about his casual walk-by-the-restaurant-with-his-dog move.
There was no doubt in my mind that he had seen the picture Caroline posted of the three of us.
And I had to think that this was history repeating.
Wes being way, way too clingy, Caroline running away.
“Hi!” she said with strained enthusiasm. We hadn’t really talked about Wes lately, but her tone told me everything I needed to know about the status of their relationship.
“Oh, hi!” he said. “What a fun coincidence, seeing you all here.” He paused. “This is my favorite brunch spot. I would have eaten here today too if I could have gotten in.” He patted his stomach. “I’m starved.”
Caroline was going to be furious. I knew she was going to. But I couldn’t just leave him standing alone on the sidewalk after being that obvious about wanting an invitation. It was impolite.
“Oh, you should join us!” Emerson said gleefully.
Thank goodness she beat me to it. I hated conflict.
The idea of turning Caroline’s wrath on me gave me a stomachache.
Emerson relished it. As Wes turned to tie his dog’s leash to the bike rack on the sidewalk, Caroline shot Emerson her trademark I’m going to kill you look.
This was going to be a very entertaining afternoon.
I had thought I wanted a daughter, but all this was giving me pause.
Boys were so transparent. Girls were always plotting.
Wes looked a little nervous as he sat down.
“How have you been?” He was clearly asking Caroline, not all of us.
Wes was a guy I would have characterized as cool.
Laid-back. It’s what I knew Caroline was drawn to about him.
But, right now, he had less than zero chill, as my boys would say.
I wanted to make a sign that said YOU’RE SCARING HER AWAY! and wave it in his face.
“Oh, good. Busy. You know,” Caroline said. “How about—”
“I thought you were going to call me when you got back to Peachtree.”
Oh no. No, no, no, no, no.
Caroline took a sip of her cider, and I could feel her inwardly sprinting away. “Right. But this was an unexpected trip, and we needed some sister time…”
To his credit, he didn’t prod. “Oh. That makes sense. Your mom didn’t mention you were here, so I figured it was last minute.”
The three of us shared our wordless psycho stalker look.
“Mom?” Emerson questioned.
I knew she was thinking what I was thinking, that Wes tracks Mom down to talk about Caroline.
“Yeah. When we were in Chicago.”
“Mom was with you in Chicago?” I asked first.
The server appeared at our table and handed Wes a coffee that I assumed he must always order. The way she smiled at him I thought Caroline might have some competition. Which, judging from her body language, she might be glad of.
“Wes, you want your usual?” she said, smiling at him and borderline batting her eyes.
“Absolutely.”
“And you are welcome to hold ours until his is ready,” Caroline chimed in.
Well, that was polite. At least she wasn’t going to leave him alone at the table after we finished our food while he waited to eat his.
Wes was sipping his coffee as Caroline’s eyes lit up. “Were you guys in Chicago talking to a possible franchisee?”
Wes nodded, and Caroline leaned in toward him, her body language changing in an instant. Emerson noticed it too. I could tell.
They talked business through almost all of what was supposed to be our sister brunch, and both ordered a Bloody Mary.
I finally said, “Guys, this has been great, but I need to go check on the house.” Even saying it made my stomach turn.
What used to be my favorite part of the day was now my most dreaded.
“I need to go with her!” Emerson piped up immediately.
“Okay,” Caroline said. “I’ll pay and be right behind you.”
We should have split the bill, but Caroline was the big sister, so, for some reason I can’t quite explain, we always just let her pay. Sorry, Caroline.
Wes and Caroline had just started discussing strategy for potential franchises in Nantucket and the Hamptons. She would not be right behind us.
When we were out of earshot, Emerson said, “So, that was really fun.”
I laughed. “Yeah. Our ideal sister brunch.”
As we walked past the farmers’ market, which was bustling with activity, Emerson said, “I only invited him to irritate her. I had no idea she would end up having the time of her life!”
I shook my head as I saw Kimmy running out of the entrance to the farmers’ market toward us.
A row of tents on either side of a brick-and-concrete walkway in the middle housed locally grown vegetables and meat, handmade stuffed animals and local authors, a wood carver, an embroiderer…
Every one of the lost arts was found in Peachtree Bluff.
It was the best place on earth to get gifts because they truly were one of a kind.
AJ’s and Taylor’s stockings were stuffed each year with hand-carved yoyos and homemade harmonicas, the fluffiest stuffed animals you have ever felt, crafted from llama fur, and, of course, cookies and candy lovingly created by Peachtree’s most talented chefs.
“I’m so glad you’re here!” she said with uncharacteristic emotion.
For a second, I thought this was going to be about Tyler. So when she said, “I have been working with your wedding caterer because we have the most gorgeous radishes growing right now,” I felt kind of relieved.
“Picture this,” she said. “Black radish ratatouille with caramelized onions and truffle oil.”
Emerson clapped gleefully. “Yes! That is going to be so good!”
Emerson had been insistent that as much of the menu for the wedding as possible be local. Kimmy turned to me now. “Have you tried cooking the kohlrabi for the boys the way I told you?”
I nodded. “They literally think they’re french fries. You are a genius.”
She gave me a thumbs-up and took off back to her stand.
“She has a lot of pep in her step today, doesn’t she?” Emerson asked as we kept walking in the direction of my house.
“She sure does. I love it. Kimmy’s a good egg.”
“But her brother…” Emerson said.
I looked at her. “Oh, Em, come on. He’s seventeen. It’s not like he slept with the girl. Can you imagine having a nearly two-year long-distance relationship at that age?”
She smiled. “No. Absolutely not. I think it was sort of a silly but bad situation he got himself into and he couldn’t find a way out. I think she should forgive him. But I am also Team Vivi all the way, so I will make occasional disparaging remarks about Tyler until she decides what to do.”
“Fair enough,” I said. “Team Vivi forever.”
“Team Vivi forever!” Emerson practically sang.
We detoured to the boardwalk for an early-afternoon dose of sunshine sparkling on the water.
The breeze was blowing the perfect amount.
A new season was almost here. Fall in the South was the most extraordinary, astonishing combination of fresh air, fragrant scents, and falling leaves.
There was nothing like it. I hated leaving Peachtree Bluff for any reason in the summer because it was so fun.
So exciting. Always something to do. But then the fall came, and I realized I loved it almost as much.
There really wasn’t a bad season here. It made me feel, for a split second, like all this house mess was going to be worth it.
Because I would get to be here for all the seasons, in the place that, after my father was killed, had taken us in, had made me feel safe again with its quiet streets and kind people.
“What about our sister?” Emerson asked. “I can’t figure that one out. I thought she was done with Wes and then, at brunch, she seemed like they were a step away from getting engaged.”
Our sister could be like that. But I had figured it out.
“That was actually the most enlightening thing that has happened in a long time,” I said.
“It made me realize that what she likes about Wes is the business side of their relationship.” I paused, stepped aside, and said “Good afternoon!” to a mom I knew from school pushing a double stroller down the dock.
“You think that’s all?” Emerson said. “Business?”
“No, I mean, I think she likes him when she wants him, but she was very clear that she didn’t want a relationship, and he very clearly does. It’s just a conflict.”
We passed Dockmaster Dan, the, well, dockmaster, who was in his late sixties and whom I had never seen without his NO THINKIN’, JUST DRINKIN’ hat.
But I loved him anyway. He stopped and said, “Emerson, the little lady and I are looking forward to the wedding! Anything we can do to help just say the word!”
“Thanks, Dan,” she said.
I took a deep breath, loving this view, loving these people, loving this town. The feeling it gave me was like being wrapped in a warm blanket, and I would never have gotten that from living outside of downtown like Adam wanted to.
So, a few minutes later, when we stepped inside the still-unfinished, still-unpainted front door of my half-built house, I tried to remember that.
“Sloane, I know we’ve covered this, but it looks exactly the way it did two months ago.”
“Well, they have roughed in the electrical and plumbing to get ready for the sheetrock.” I don’t know why I made excuses.
This process was frustrating me so much that it nearly ate me alive but then, when someone else criticized it, I defended it.
It made no sense. I had promised Adam that, if we did this, if we built this house, I was going to be in charge. I was failing madly.
“Sweetie, at this rate, the sheetrock isn’t going to be finished by the time that baby is born, much less the entire house.”
“Thank you,” I said, hearing the edge to my voice. “That is very helpful.”
“I hate to say it, Sloane, and I know you and Adam said no… but you know what you need?”
“Don’t say it,” I said. “Just don’t say it.”
From behind me a voice rang out, making us both jump. “You need me,” Caroline said. “For God’s sake, Sloane, why can’t you just accept my help?”
I was about to be indignant that I didn’t need Caroline to do everything for me.
But when I turned and saw her, looking so perfect and big sisterly, instead of arguing, instead of complaining, I burst into tears and sobbed on her shoulder as she stroked my hair and said, “It’s okay, Sloaney. I’m here now.”
I was in my thirties. I was a mother of almost three.
I should be stronger than this. I should be able to handle my own affairs.
But the truth of the matter was, Emerson, Caroline, and I all had different strengths.
Together, we made up a whole of someone with all the character traits in the world.
Getting organized and motivating a team was where Caroline excelled.
“I’m going to go get my clipboard,” she said, her eyes practically aglow. “And then we’ll get to work.”
As she raced out the door, Emerson said, “I’ve learned that sometimes it’s easier to just sink into the process of letting her control your life. Things turn out well that way.”
I laughed. I was the damsel in distress. Caroline was my white knight. And, honestly, I was so tired of this unfinished house that I just needed my sister to swoop in and save me.