It was terrific.
“I will ignore, just this once,” Emerson said, “that Bellinis are your favorite, not mine. If you’re going to use my name, at least get my drinks right.”
“They don’t carry Smirnoff Ice here, Emerson,” Caroline joked.
Only, that’s where Caroline was wrong. An hour later, a very handsome young beach waiter was asking, “A fresh towel, Mrs. Beaumont?”
Caroline unrolled it and, hiding inside, was a Smirnoff Ice. A hot one.
The game of “icing” someone had been out of practice for years as far as I knew, but it was something my sisters and I used to love to do to each other. Like a champ, Caroline, perfectly coiffed and manicured, got down on one knee in the sand, popped the top, and chugged that hot Smirnoff Ice. She dramatically wiped her mouth—while Emerson howled with laughter.
And then it happened. The thing I was afraid I was no longer capable of, the thing I thought I might never do again. As a laugh escaped from my throat, I realized that no one—and no Bellini—in the world could make me feel as carefree as my sisters.
A FEW HOURS LATER, back on the boat, my sister was saying, in typical Caroline fashion, “Girls, the beach walk was great, but we need a little Yogilates before we get going.”
Emerson and I groaned. “No one wants to exercise after drinking on the beach all afternoon, Caroline. That sounds awful.”
She was already setting up the mats on the bow. I gave Emerson a withering look. “Why?” I asked. “Why do we keep her in our lives?”
“I don’t know,” Emerson said. “I can’t figure it out.”
“It’s because you love me and you know I’m right,” Caroline said.
“Damn it,” Emerson said.
We were only into our second sun salutation when I noticed Emerson’s form looked a little off. Caroline must have noticed it too because she jolted up and screamed “Em!” right as Emerson collapsed to the bow, landing solidly on her right side.
“Oh my God!” I cried, running over to her.
“Did she pass out?” Caroline asked as we crouched around our sister, who had opened her eyes and was looking at us, confused.
She tried to sit up. “No, no. Wait!” I said.
“What is it again?” Caroline asked.
“If it’s red, raise the head,” I said.
“If it’s pale, raise the tail,” Emerson finished. No permanent brain damage.
“She’s definitely red,” Caroline said, sitting Emerson up. “I’m so sorry, Emerson. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s not your fault,” she said. “I think I’m just dehydrated.”
I looked at Caroline skeptically. “I think we need to get you to a doctor just in case,” I said. Caroline nodded in agreement.
“You guys, absolutely not,” Emerson said. “It’s hot, I haven’t eaten much today, and I’ve been drinking. I’m totally fine.”
“I say better safe than sorry,” Caroline said. “We can get an Uber, run to urgent care . . .”
“I said no,” Emerson said, taking charge.
I ran into the salon and grabbed a water for her. As she sipped, she said, “OK. Yoga is over. Caroline, you go drive. I want to wake up in Savannah.”
Caroline looked at me warily. “Emerson,” she said, trying again. “We are going to be out at sea. If you need help, the Coast Guard is going to come, and it’s going to be very dramatic.”
“Is that what you want?” I teased. “A dramatic rescue at sea by a hot sailor?”
She smiled. “No. I’m fine. I’m ready to get home. I miss Mark.”
I shrugged at Caroline.
“If you’re sure,” she said.
“Totally sure.”
Emerson turned over her water bottle, gasped, and threw it to the ground like it had suddenly grown fangs and bitten her.
“What?” Caroline asked.
“Are you kidding me? You’re feeding me water out of a number-six plastic? Have I taught you nothing?”
I rolled my eyes at Caroline and said, “Yeah. I think she’s fine,” as Emerson chanted, “Five, four, one and two, all the rest are bad for you.”
“I will get you nonpoisonous water immediately,” I said sarcastically as we helped Emerson up and into the air-conditioning. I handled the lines while the boat idled, and we were off again.
It wasn’t until I went to go check on Emerson that I saw them. My heart almost stopped beating. Her cheekbone had a deep, dark bruise, and her arm was covered in what looked like a rash, but upon closer inspection was a cluster of tiny bruises.
“Oh my God, Emerson,” I said.
She shrugged. “You know I bruise really easily.”
Caroline took a couple of steps toward us and gasped. “Emerson, that is not normal.”
I agreed.
She bit her lip. “I haven’t felt great lately. Kind of dizzy, and I’m always exhausted. Just walking up the stairs makes my heart race.”
She pulled down the side of her bathing suit bottoms to reveal a huge red and purple bruise.
Back at the helm, Caroline said, “Look, the moment we get back to Peachtree Bluff, you’re going to the doctor.” She paused. “In fact, James and I have to go to the Hamptons for a benefit. Why don’t the two of you come with us, and we can get you to one of our doctor friends?”
Now my heart was racing for two reasons: There was no way—especially now—I could get on an airplane or face New York, neither of which I’d done since 9/11. And there was definitely something wrong with my little sister.
Emerson shook her head. “No, no. I don’t want Mom to know anything is going on. I’m sure it’s nothing. I’ll just run to a doctor in Peachtree.”
“And if it’s something more, I want you to be seen in New York,” Caroline said.
“Fine,” Emerson agreed, exhaling. She looked at us. “Promise me,” she said. “Not a word to Mom. She has enough on her plate.”
Caroline and I simultaneously put our three fingers up in scout’s honor.
I hated keeping secrets from my mother. But we had done it before. One more time probably wouldn’t hurt.
FOURTEEN
scary small person
ansley
“We made it,” I said to James over
