13. Sloane Port-of-Call Properties
sloane: port-of-call properties
THERE WAS NOTHING LIKE A good sandbar party, and this one, held every year on Labor Day weekend, was a little bittersweet.
It marked the end of the summer season—even if summer wasn’t technically over for a few more weeks.
Sure, we were fully into pumpkin and cinnamon mode over here, and the kids were back in school.
But still. All the summer send-off traditions made me a little nostalgic.
Around me, a band played, tables full of food were scattered about as pretty much everyone we’d ever known was strewn out across the sandbar, coolers, tents, and chairs in tow.
So many boats were vying for anchor space around the sandbar that you could practically walk across a line of boats all the way around it. It was pure joy.
I was standing at the water’s edge, watching the tiny waves lap the little shore that, in another few hours, would once again be submerged in the sea, as if this island had never existed.
That was the beauty of it; it was fleeting and impermanent and you had to savor it while you had it.
Which was how everything was when you got right down to it.
I felt arms on me and smiled as Adam’s body moved close to mine, his hands on my belly, his chin resting on my head. He kissed my neck. “Have I told you how beautiful you are today?”
I turned slowly and smiled up at him. He kissed me lightly on the lips.
“You know, I don’t think you have.”
He was so good now. Happy. I knew the store and sleep and structure had a lot to do with that.
He was making something for himself, for us, and I knew that must feel good.
I had been so nervous when his doctor suggested weaning him off the meds that had kept so much of his PTSD and anxiety at bay.
But Adam was keeping up with his therapy, his physical activity, and his consistent schedule, so he was thriving.
I worried briefly what sleepless nights could do to his mental health, and I silently vowed not to let him do middle-of-the-night feedings.
I would be nursing, if all went well, so there was nothing he could do anyway.
Plus, I knew Caroline would come stay with us for at least a couple of weeks.
And Mom would be next door. Knowing she would be right there, so intricately involved in the whole process, was the hugest relief I could imagine.
That would be enough to get me over the hump.
Adam took on so much “dad duty” with our boys that I knew we had this.
I had tons of support. I was so grateful.
I said a quick, quiet prayer for my baby.
I could probably benefit from some therapy of my own. How many times had the doctor assured me that everything was fine?
“Last night was so fun,” I said. “I love that the Peachtree Provisions cookout has become kind of a tradition.”
Adam nodded seriously. “Because heaven knows we need another one.”
We both laughed. I scrunched my nose.
“What?”
“I didn’t want to tell you, but…”
His eyes went wide.
“I’m sort of letting Caroline take over the house stuff.” I sighed. “I can’t do it. I feel like I’m going to spontaneously combust, and I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but the clock is ticking here.” I pointed at my belly.
Adam laughed. There had been times when Adam had been annoyed by how involved my family was in our business.
This did not appear to be one of those times.
“Finally!” he exclaimed, and we both laughed.
“Sloane, this has been awful. Please let her deal with it. She can yell at everyone, your mom can decorate, and you can create beautiful things.”
Well, that was a load off. If only it were that simple.
These new franchises had been more work than we had imagined, and with Caroline so busy with the business end of Sloane Emerson, Sloane Emerson New York, and Sloane Emerson LA, the three stores we still owned, Mom doing so much traveling with Wes for the scouting, and Emerson being so busy on set, way more of the day-to-day questions and problems from the three franchises in Miami, Austin, and Palm Beach had fallen to me.
Which, technically, was fine. I mean, yeah, I loved getting my part of the check, so I couldn’t complain.
But it was occurring to me that my introverted nature just needed some calm, some space, some moments when the phone wasn’t ringing and I wasn’t glued to my email.
But I never wanted Adam to worry about me. So I didn’t say any of that. I spotted Mrs. McClasky making a beeline toward us and wanted to jump in the water. She was definitely on a mission, and I wondered if there was something else with the wedding she was upset about.
“Hi, Mrs. McClasky,” I said, trying to be as sunny as possible to head her off at the pass.
“Where is that stepfather of yours?” she practically spat at me.
I scrunched my nose. “Jack?”
She raised her eyebrow and said, “I don’t know, Sloane. Do you have other stepfathers I don’t know about?”
Damn. She didn’t have to be so snippy. Be the bigger person, I thought. What I said was, “Well, since Jack is biologically my father, not my stepfather, I just wanted to clarify.”
She rolled her eyes. This woman was worse than usual today. Adam and I shared a look.
“He’s around here somewhere,” Adam said lightly.
“What’s going on?” I couldn’t help but ask. I was sure it was something stupid.
“Well, if you must know, everyone is talking about what your father, our very own elected commodore, who we trusted with the care and keeping of our boardwalk and everything sacred and holy in this town, did,” she huffed.
Jack’s “commodore” position was something fairly new for Peachtree Bluff. A slightly tongue-in-cheek title for someone elected to be the liaison with the town council on all things related to our boardwalk, waterway, and a few other downtown dealings.
I could feel my forehead wrinkling. I shook my head.
“Mrs. McClasky,” Adam said. “We have no idea what you’re talking about.”
She snickered. “Oh, sure. We trusted Jack. We thought he had our best interests at heart. As it turns out, he’s just as bad as all the other money-grubbers.”
I felt heat rise in me. She was being so rude, and I suddenly felt defensive. “Mrs. McClasky, no one loves this town more than Jack. He would never do anything to hurt it. But I really don’t know what’s happening.”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. It sounds like it’s a done deal. But I can tell you this for sure. They might be in it for the money, but your father and the town council will rue the day they got into bed with Port-of-Call Properties.”
I opened my mouth to argue with her. I still didn’t fully understand what was happening or why this was bad. But something about that name rang a bell… Suddenly, all the hair on the back of my neck stood up. And I had to grab Adam’s hand. Because I knew why.