FIFTEEN
the brightness of the stars
sloane
November 28, 2010
Dear Sloane,
Even out here, in a dry desert that it feels like God surely has forgotten, the stars shine bright and the moon hangs low, and for a moment, between the gunshots and the shrapnel, the wounded soldiers and the innocent civilians lost in the mix, there is a moment, just a moment, that still feels like a miracle, that still feels like life can be beautiful and good. I’m convinced that these moments are what make up our lives, that the moments that are nothing short of miraculous are the ones that define who we are, that we will remember always. At least, that’s what I tell myself. Because I’d hate to think that I will remember the fighting but I will forget the brightness of the stars.
All my love,
Adam
I PRAYED ALL DAY, every day that God would bring Adam home to me, unharmed. My faith was my sanity, and I wondered, not for the first time, how my mom survived everything she had without belief in a higher power. My faith was one of the greatest gifts I had. Because of it, I knew that even when I couldn’t quite see the end, everything would work out the way it was supposed to.
That didn’t keep me from feeling utterly terrified and devastated, but it helped me put one foot in front of the other when I didn’t want to. That day, I wanted to. I could practically smell my children, feel their sticky little hands on my face, and hear their sweet, small voices, so filled with excitement and joy.
When I walked through the door, my two boys flew into my arms so quickly that they almost knocked me over, giggling and covering my face with kisses. It occurred to me that, in a world where children’s laughter exists, all can never really be lost. I hadn’t even finished kissing them before I looked up and saw that Caroline had hung one of my paintings from the boat over the mantel.
“It’s perfect,” Mom said. “It changes the entire room.”
“Aren’t the grays so good?” Caroline asked.
Emerson walked through the front door, canvases in her arms.
“Sloane!” Mom gasped, admiring each one. “You should sell these.”
I was going to say no. These canvases were too important to me. They were my heart and soul, all of my emotions draining out from my fingertips and onto the canvas. But then I remembered: I needed the money. This could be the answer to my prayers. It could get me out of the mess I’d made and help me start over. I picked up one of the canvases. Sure, these paintings may have helped bring me out of the darkness. But if I could let them go, I would be free. Not forever. But for now. “Not yet, Mom. I’m not ready. But soon.”
Grammy walked in wearing a beautiful yellow pantsuit. Her hair was freshly combed and her makeup expertly applied with a steady hand, but I would never get used to seeing her with a cane. I didn’t like it. It made her seem old. I didn’t want her to be old. I wanted her to be young and so very alive. I wanted her to walk on the beach with us, take the boat over to Starlite Island. I wanted her to be immortal. As foolish as it seems, I almost believed she was.
She hugged me and kissed my cheek. “We had so much fun with the boys, darling. They are precious.”
Then she hugged Caroline. “And that James.” She paused. “I hate him much less now.”
We all laughed as Mark burst through the door. Emerson jumped into his arms like she hadn’t seen him in months, kissing him passionately.
“Darling, for heaven’s sake,” Grammy said.
Mark backed away from Emerson, assessing her. “Why do you have on long sleeves?”
Caroline and I shared a glance.
Mark was studying Emerson’s face. As he said, “Oh my God, Emerson,” she pulled him out the door, and I knew he had noticed her bruise. I looked at Caroline again and she mouthed, “Doctor. Today.”
I motioned toward the front door with my head, and Caroline followed them. She could handle that one.
I had other things on my plate, namely paying my bills.
TEN MINUTES LATER I was sitting on the end of the bed, thinking about miracles. My dad always believed in them. Adam certainly did. And me? I did to an extent, I suppose. But, while a lot of great things had happened to me in my life, I wasn’t sure that any of them would qualify as a miracle. I mean, miracle is a pretty big word, something that defies logic, that defies explanation, something that you seemingly willed into being. But that was the only, single explanation for what was happening now.
I just kept staring at $0.00 due. How was that possible? After years of feeling sick every month, of making minimum payments and watching the overall balance climb higher and higher, of being terrified Adam—or anyone, for that matter—might find out this terrible secret that, while, on the outside, I appeared to be this wonderful steward of our family’s money, in reality, I was nothing more than a fraud, I had been given a clean slate.
I heard Caroline’s voice. “You’re going to burn a hole through it.”
She sat down beside me, and I clutched the paper to my chest so she couldn’t see. “Is that your credit card bill?” she asked.
I wanted to lie. I was so embarrassed about my spending habits and how it had been nearly impossible for me to support our family on our salary. But she was my sister. Maybe there shouldn’t be big secrets between sisters. Besides, this was Caroline. I could tell her now, or she would pull it out of me later.
I looked at her in amazement. “It’s gone,” I said, still totally mystified, looking at the zeroes again and praying it wasn’t a glitch in the computer system.
“Your credit card is gone?”
“No. My balance.”
She looked at me like I was dense. “Well, yeah, it’s gone,” she said. “I paid it.”
I could feel my eyes widen. “You paid my credit card bill?”
She nodded. “Somebody had to pay your bills while you were in a coma in here.” She paused. “And, no offense, but how in the hell did you ever, ever think you were going to pay it?”
I threw my arms around her neck with so much force that I nearly knocked us both off the bed. I could feel the tears in my throat. “I will pay you back. I promise,” I said. “This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.”
“Sloane, what were you thinking?”
I shrugged, ashamed. “I don’t know. It’s what I do to keep the boys from feeling sad their dad is gone. I buy them stuff they don’t need and I can’t afford.” I sighed. “I always assumed we were going to get the money Dad had left us, and it would be fine. Then I couldn’t stop, and the bill kept getting higher. And I would save up a little to pay it down, and then something would happen and we’d need the money . . .” I trailed off, envying my sister’s life. She didn’t have these worries. She had an endless amount of money at her disposal. I couldn’t imagine what that felt like, how freeing it must be to know that, no matter what, you were going to be OK. You could pay your way out of whatever mess you spent yourself into.
We didn’t have that luxury. I didn’t want to wound Adam’s pride, but I needed that security. I needed to know that if something happened, I wouldn’t have to go running to my mom or sister. I could in an emergency, of course, but a run-up credit card bill didn’t feel like an “emergency” per se. I needed a job.
Caroline took my hand. “I totally get that, Sloane, but they don’t care about all that stuff.”
I nodded, tears gathering in my eyes. “The worst part is that it felt like every month I was lying to Adam. I was living in fear that he would get to the mailbox before I did, open my credit card bill, and see what I had done.”
She ran her fingers through her hair, patted my leg, and said, “It’s all cleaned up now. Don’t worry. But don’t do it again.”
I shook my head. “Car, I’m paying you back.”
I couldn’t begin to imagine where I would get that kind of money, but I would. Little by little, I would pay my sister back the debt I owed.
She shook her head. “No, Sloane. I don’t want you to. I had put something aside for a rainy day, and this was a rainy day.” She cleared her throat. “So now you will owe me and, trust me, I will cash in the favor in a big way.”
I threw my arms around her neck again. “Whatever you want, Caroline. Honestly. Anything.”
She raised her eyebrow, and I realized I shouldn’t have offered that. But I felt free, like I was running through an open field of daisies. And now the credit card would be used solely for emergencies, just like Adam and I had always intended.
Part of me felt bad for not paying my sister back, but I also knew it was completely fruitless to argue with her. It always had been. Even when we were kids.
Even about the big things.
In the fifth grade, when we were studying genetics, I became obsessed with the idea that my father didn’t give me any of my DNA—and I desperately wanted to know who had. Where were my brown eyes from? The dimple in my chin? Was my biological father good at math like I was? I had gone to my parents, but they told me that Caroline and I had to agree about whether to find out who our biological father was since we had the same donor. I thought that would be simple. Why wouldn’t Caroline want to know who her father was?
Only, she didn’t. She was adamant. “Why would you do that to Dad?” she had asked me. “What if he came to you and said he had another daughter he wanted to meet? How would you feel about that?”
She always knew how to get to me, to appeal to my emotions, of which I had many. “He seemed OK with it,” I had said, a little hurt.
“Well of course he seemed OK with it. He didn’t want to hurt your feelings.” Then she had crossed her arms and sighed. “Fine. If you want to crush our daddy by trying to have someone take his place, then fine by me. But that’s on you, Sloane.”
I remember how the tears stung my eyes, and I vowed right then and there that I would never hurt my dad by finding out who my real father was. After he died, I considered it, but then I didn’t want my mom to feel like I was trying to replace him. So I went on about my life—and watched a lot of Lifetime movies where the daughter gets a disease and has to search out her biological parents. I didn’t want a disease. But I had to be prepared.
“I’ve never been able to argue with you,” I said now. “Not even about finding out who our sperm donor was.”
Caroline scrunched her nose. “I’m sorry.”
I put my hand over my chest and made a face like I was having a heart attack.
“Ha. Ha,” she said. “My apologies are not that rare. But it wasn’t right of me to talk you out of finding out who our sperm donor was. If it was something you felt like you needed to know, I should have gotten on board.”
I smiled. “Of all the bitchy things you ever said to me, the one about replacing Daddy might take the cake.”
“That’s really saying something.” She paused and looked down at her hands, the massive apology diamond James had bought her catching my eye. “But Dad wasn’t the reason why I didn’t want to meet our sperm donor.”
“Were you scared?”
“Maybe a little. But I was most worried about Emerson. It would be like you and I had this whole family that she wasn’t a part of. I didn’t want her to feel left out.”
I squeezed her hand. “Caroline, that may be the most selfless thing you’ve ever done.”
She swallowed and nodded regally. “I know,” she said very seriously, and we both burst out laughing.
“If you want to know now,” she said, “I’m OK with that. I could handle it.”
I smiled and raised my eyebrows. “Do you want to know?”
“No, but I will if you want to.”
I shook my head. “Nah. I’m fine. I don’t need to open that door. My life is complicated enough.” I paused. “Plus, I mean, I know she’s twenty-six, but I kind of feel like it would be worse for Emerson now than it would have been when we were kids. I mean, it’s like we get this replacement father, and hers is still dead.”
Caroline shrugged. “Yeah, I guess.”
“Mooooommmmmmmeeeeeee,” I heard AJ call from down the hall.
“Good timing,” Caroline said.
We stood up, and I hugged her again. “Thank you,” I said. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
She smiled. “I love you.”
“I know,” I said, before turning and rushing out the door to hear what the second “Moooooommmmmmeeeeee, I need you!” was all about.
I realized then that I felt almost strangely relieved I would never have to talk about my sperm donor again. I could spend the rest of my life content in the knowledge that my father was my father, and that was all that mattered. In some ways, it was as big a relief as knowing that my final balance was zero.
IT WAS NO BIG secret Caroline hated doctors’ offices. She hated the germs, the people, the general smell. I swear I didn’t think we would get her through her hospital tour when she had Preston.
Needless to say, she wasn’t the first one volunteering to go to the doctor with Emerson. I, on the other hand, wanted to go, but we weren’t sure what excuse we could use to leave together without Mom wanting to come along. Plus, once Mark saw those bruises on his beloved Emerson, there was no way he was going to miss her appointment.
Mom had taken Grammy to lunch, Taylor was napping, and AJ and I were playing what felt like our hundredth game of Candy Land when Mark’s car appeared in the front driveway.
I grabbed AJ’s hand and Taylor’s monitor and flew down the stairs at top toddler speed to the guesthouse, where we’d all decided to meet after Emerson’s doctor’s appointment. A somber-looking Emerson was leaning against a protective-looking Mark.
“So?” Caroline asked breathlessly.
“So, it’s not great,” Emerson said.
Mark interrupted her. “But we don’t know that for sure yet.”
She shrugged. “OK. True. But he said from my initial blood work and the pattern of my bruising that it looked like it was aplastic anemia.”
The part of me that was sure she was going to say “leukemia” or “cancer” was relieved, but the part of me that wasn’t sure what these scary medical words meant was terrified.
But Caroline knew what they meant. “Do they know why you aren’t producing new red blood cells? I mean, could it be a virus? Autoimmune disease?”
“Back up a minute here,” I said, looking at Caroline in disbelief. “One, how do you know so much about aplastic anemia? Two, what even is that?”
Caroline bit her lip. “Well, when I saw her arm, I did a lot of Googling. It’s like anemia, but on steroids. Basically, your body quits making new red blood cells, which is a problem because, you know, oxygen.”
“So is it treatable?”
Mark interjected. “They aren’t even positive that’s what it is yet.”
“Yeah, right. We got it, Mark,” Caroline said.
He was annoying me too. This was our little sister. He was the brand-new boyfriend. Well, I mean, brand-new if you didn’t count the three years in high school. We would be asking the questions here.
“There are treatments,” Emerson said.
“I don’t even have to ask Sloane,” Caroline said. “Either one of us will give you our bone marrow without a second thought.”
“Of course.” Now I was starting to worry. Bone marrow transplants were not a simple matter, and this was really major if she potentially needed to have a bone marrow transplant.
I could tell Emerson was trying not to cry. “But even still,” she said, “I probably can’t have children.”
Mark pulled her closer into him.
My heart sank for her. I couldn’t imagine that. I had seen what Caroline had gone through trying to have another baby—and she already had Vivi. “I will have a baby for you, Emerson. I have a beautiful uterus.” I cleared my throat. “My doctor’s words, not mine.” We all laughed.
“I know,” she said, nodding. “I know you would do anything you could. I love you both so much.”
She stood up, and Caroline and I both hugged her. “I will have a baby for you if you’re OK with having a hippie LA home birth, but I’m not going back in that hospital.”
I patted Caroline. “It’s OK. I’ve got that one.” I winked at her. “Let’s just hope you’re the better bone marrow match so it’s fair.”
Caroline nodded. “Deal.”
Emerson was wiping her eyes and laughing now. “Listen,” I said. “Mark’s right. Let’s not get worked up about something we don’t even know yet. OK?” She nodded.
“Right,” Caroline said. “And in the meantime, just know that the two of us will do and give you anything you need, and we will make sure you get the best doctor in the world.”
Emerson nodded again. “I know.”
“Good,” I said, hugging her again. “Chin up, little one.”
“And, guys,” she said. “Just please don’t let anything slip out to Mom. I don’t want to worry her.”
I nodded in agreement, but I didn’t feel all that confident. When Mom found out we had kept this from her, I had a feeling our biggest concern would no longer be who was going to carry Emerson’s baby.