TWENTY-ONE
more sisters
sloane
I knew from our first lunch together that I’d never met anyone like Adam and that I never would again. Even in those first few days, maybe even in those first few seconds, I knew this was a man unlike any other. He’d quit college to fight for his country; he always had and always would put the needs of others before his own.
That thought woke me in the middle of the night, roused me from a deep sleep as surely as a hand shaking my shoulder. Adam had always put others before himself. What if he was putting others before himself now, too? What if he sacrificed himself for his friends? What if they were the ones who came home instead of him?
I remember being pregnant with AJ, how I knew something would change between Adam and me, how I felt almost sad that I was no longer his only true love and sole focus. I feared he would love this baby more than he loved me and that things between us would be different.
I know Adam loves our boys, but his love for me has never changed, never darkened, never dimmed. If anything, giving him those children made Adam love me more. I feel that. Even now.
As the sun rose, I fell asleep thinking that, no matter how much he felt the urge to sacrifice, Adam would come home to me because I was the one he was always fighting for.
THE NEXT MORNING IN the well-groomed backyard with the boys laughing with Preston, who was having some very serious tummy time, Grammy in a chair on the screened porch, Emerson and Caroline standing beside me, the night before and all those worries seemed so far away. The tears had dried for now. Adam would come home. Emerson would be OK. The sun would keep shining. All would be right with the world.
Emerson walked up the steps to the porch to sit with Grammy, and I turned to Caroline and whispered, “What do you think Jack meant when he told Mom he understood how much she had to lose if they were together?”
“What?” I could see Caroline squinting through her cat-eye sunglasses. I was in a pair of old sweatpants and a T-shirt, while she was in a beautifully pressed linen dress and wedges, her idea of casual wear.
“I just walked in the living room, and I heard Jack tell Mom he forgave her for not wanting to be with him now. That he understood how much she had to lose.”
Caroline shrugged. “I don’t know, Sloane. I’m not in the business of old-people relationships. I can’t even keep my own husband off reality TV.”
She smiled, which made me happy. After Caroline, Emerson, and I had sat down and watched James with Edie Fitzgerald on Ladies Who Lunch, after the tears and seeing how my always strong, always together sister was so very broken, I truly hadn’t believed there was any chance they could get back together. But she had persevered. Her New York friends were livid. They thought she was weak. But Caroline trying to fix her marriage wasn’t weakness. It was strength, the kind of strength not many people possess. But that was Caroline.
“Maybe he meant since it was so hard for her to lose Dad?” Caroline asked.
“Maybe,” I said, but that didn’t make sense. Sure, it was possible for Mom to lose Jack if they were together, but he wasn’t dying. Not as far as we knew, anyway. She wasn’t in imminent danger of losing him. Any fool could see he was madly in love with her.
Caroline pulled her glasses down her nose and peered at me over the top of them. “All I’m saying is I told you there was more to the story.”
“Mommy, watch this!” AJ called for maybe the four hundredth time in the past ten minutes. I smiled. I was here. I was watching. I would always want to watch. I felt guilty for feeling like I wanted a break. But this was the vicious mom-guilt cycle.
“Let me see, buddy!”
He twirled around in the yard and then fell down, laughing. Taylor piled on top of him, trying to emulate his twirl and fall. Soon, we were all laughing. I felt that catch in my chest, that near suffocation that I shouldn’t be laughing, not when Adam’s fate was so up in the air.
I looked back toward the screened-in porch where Emerson had Grammy crying with laughter. Emerson could tell a story like no one I’ve ever met. It made sense, really. Of all of us, she was the most Southern.
“This may sound weird,” I said. “But sometimes it makes me sad we don’t have the same dad as Emerson.”
Caroline cocked her head. “He loved us all the same. You know that, right?”
I nodded. Never for one day in my entire life did I feel anything but worshipped by our father. I never had any doubt he loved Caroline and me. “It isn’t that,” I said. “I mean, I know he loved us so much. I can’t put it into words.”
By the look on Caroline’s face, I thought maybe I’d lost her, but then she said, “Do you think it makes her sad? Like maybe you and I are more sisters?”
I didn’t get a chance to answer because I heard the screen door slam, and Mom appeared.
She looked at Grammy, who called breezily, “Sloane, Caroline. Could you come here a minute, please?”
I thought this was going to be our announcement to Mom that we were coming to work at the store.
I noticed how pretty Grammy looked in her slim-legged black pants with a pale pink jacket over top. Her hair was styled, and her blush was on. She was still lovely at eighty-three. I hoped I would be like that one day. But, if I was honest, with how little time I took to fix myself up now, the chances were slim.
Grammy was seated between Mom and Emerson on the bamboo settee. Caroline and I were each sitting in a bamboo armchair flanking it.
Grammy took one of Mom’s hands in hers and one of Emerson’s in the other, and I felt my stomach lurch. Had she found out about Emerson?
“My sweet girls,” she said, sighing. “I have some news, and it isn’t good.” She paused, composing herself. “I found out a few months ago that I have cancer, which, at my age, isn’t all that uncommon, of course.”
I heard myself gasp.
“Grammy, no!” Caroline said.
“You know I’m not one to take things lying down, but when they found it, it was already in my liver, lungs, and brain.”
I looked at Emerson, my mouth hanging open, and could feel my tears, ones that matched those streaming down Emerson’s face. Caroline’s hands were over her mouth, and her eyes were wet as well.
My heart felt like it was breaking in two as it hit me: Grammy was dying. My rock, the woman whom we had loved and adored and looked up to for forever, wasn’t going to be here anymore.
Who would I call when I couldn’t remember if the fork went on top of the napkin or beside the napkin? Who would I call when I wasn’t sure whether to wear black tie or cocktail to a noon wedding?
My boys wouldn’t remember my grandmother. That made me cry even harder.
“I have taken some lovely medications to help slow the growth a bit, darlings, but as you probably know, at this stage, there isn’t much to do.” She paused. “Well, there isn’t much to do but live.”
She was so composed, so stoic in contrast to the rest of us, who were hysterical sobbing messes.
“You girls are the joy of my life. I’m ready to go, but oh how I hate the thought of not being with y’all.” She cleared her throat. “But you can’t imagine how much I miss your grandfather, how I long to be with him again.” She looked at Mom. “Well, maybe you can.”
“Grammy,” Caroline said, walking to her, kneeling down in front of her, and taking her hand. “Isn’t there anything you can do to fight this?” Her voice broke as she said, “We need more time, Grammy. We have to have more time.”
I loved Grammy. We were close, but she and Caroline were attached at the hip. They were practically best friends. This would hit Caroline the hardest.
It didn’t surprise me that Grammy’s eyes finally flooded with tears when she looked down at Caroline.
Grammy smiled sadly at her, stroking her hair. “You know, sweetheart, I’m sure they could try to do surgery, rip me from stem to stern. But at my age, it would probably kill me. And, even if they tried, it wouldn’t help.” She swallowed, strong again. “It’s my time, girls. This life is not perfect by any stretch. It’s hard, and some days it feels long. But as long as you are surrounded by people you love, you have absolutely everything you need.” She cleared her throat and patted Emerson and Mom on the legs. “OK. That’s that. Let’s get back to savoring every last inch of this life we have.”
We all got up and hugged Grammy, the voices of our little boys floating around us. There was so much sadness on this porch, yet so much happiness only a few feet away in the backyard. How could that be?
“Let’s go out to lunch,” Mom said. “Grammy’s choice.”
“I think that sounds lovely,” Grammy said. “I’d like to take my girls out.”
She didn’t say it, but we all heard the while I still can anyway. I was going to savor every last second with my grandmother. I was going to take every opportunity to show this family I had how much they meant to me.
Thinking about what Caroline said earlier, I linked my arm through Emerson’s. “I love you, little sister,” I said.
“I love you too, big sister,” she said, smiling and touching her forehead to mine.
“Um, excuse me,” Caroline said. “Does either of you love me?”
I scrunched my nose. “Well . . .”
We all laughed the relieved laugh that comes in the midst of so much pain, of too much sorrow. “OK,” Caroline said. “Fine. Love me, don’t love me. We all know I’m the glue that holds this group together.” She paused. “Both of you look absolutely atrocious, and I will not be seen at lunch with you until you do something to yourselves.”
“Glue?” Emerson asked. “Yeah. Keep telling yourself that.”
We all laughed again. Dutifully, like the little sisters we were, Emerson and I went upstairs to change—and I changed the boys as a bonus, too. It occurred to me that, no, we would never have the same father, but, as long as Caroline was on this earth, Emerson and I would always have the same boss.