I knew the work James and Caroline had ahead of them was daunting—and far from over. I wondered if being in Peachtree for a little longer might help give them a stronger foundation before they went back to their real lives.
Mom reappeared. “What’s up with Mark, Emerson?” she asked.
Emerson only shrugged. She was being uncharacteristically tight-lipped about him. But there were weeks and weeks left of summer. If I knew anything about the sea, it was that nothing had the power to pull things out of you quite like it did. And, at the same time, nothing had quite the power to fill you back up again.
TWENTY-FOUR
six months
ansley
I was already crying when I woke up. I knew my mother wouldn’t die as long as she had this trip to Starlite Island to look forward to. After that, I wasn’t sure what would happen.
Sandra and Emily were already sitting in my kitchen when I padded in. When I saw them, the waterworks started again, and they both stood to hug me, one on each side.
“She’s going to be gone,” I sobbed. “Then I’m not going to have anyone.”
“Oh, honey, no,” Sandra said. “You have us; you have the girls.”
Biscuit let out a little yip as if to say, “You have me, too!”
But surely they knew what I meant. That had been the hardest thing about losing Carter, the thing I hadn’t expected. When the initial shock and horror of his death had worn off a bit, there were still months and months of realizing how much I depended on him. For far longer than I would like to admit, I would think, “Oh, Carter will do that,” before I would take out the trash or change a lightbulb.
It still crossed my mind to ask my husband for directions, for advice about what to do with the girls, what brand of wine to buy . . . The list went on and on. Not two years later, I went through the same thing with my dad. Now, my mother would be gone. Friends were wonderful and children were terrific, but they were not replacements for your spouse or your parents. A deep sense of vulnerability washed over me, as though, suddenly, I was open to whatever the world wanted to throw at me. I had no one left to protect me, though, frankly, I couldn’t imagine what other horrors we could possibly endure. I tried to take that thought back, as though I was tempting fate.
But Jack was right. My mother was going to die. It was always going to be hard. We would grieve, we would heal, and life would go on. The children were healthy, and while, yes, it would have been great for Adam to come home, for today, we had to be grateful for what we had.
Emily handed me a cup of coffee, and I followed my friends into the living room, to sit down in one of the comfortable, patterned chairs.
“I just can’t believe she’s going to be gone,” I said.
Sandra and Emily still had both of their parents, which was quite a feat at our age. “But she’s not gone now,” Emily said. “And we’re going to give her one hell of a going-away party.”
We all laughed. That was a good way to think of it. A going-away party. Only, it was one thing to give someone a goingaway party when you could hop on a plane to Paris to see her again. But she wasn’t going to be in Paris. And I wasn’t going to see her again.
“You’ll get to be together again one day,” Sandra said.
I rolled my eyes. My two best friends were completely undone by the abdication of my faith. In a town like Peachtree Bluff, or a lot of small Southern towns, really, saying you were ambivalent at best about God was like saying you didn’t believe in sweet tea.
I stood up. “We need to get ready.”
“Is it black tie?” Emily quipped.
“Black suit,” I said. “Bathing suit.”
We all managed a small smile, and I heard AJ’s tiny voice calling, “Gransley.” I saw him at the top of the stairs.
“Hi, my big boy! Come down here and see me!”
This time I really smiled. I was grateful I had my grandchildren with me during this tough time. They were such a beautiful reminder that life did, indeed, go on. There was more. And it was wonderful.
AJ was wearing green-and-white-striped pajamas, sucking his thumb, and clutching his blankie. Before I turned around he would be twenty-one. I wanted to freeze time and keep him at this sweet and innocent age when life is full of possibility.
He climbed up into my lap as Sandra said, “We’ll see you in a couple hours.”
They made their way out the front door as AJ rested his head on my chest. “You’re the best snuggler I know.”
He looked up at me and smiled. “I love to snuggle.”
“I know you do. Will you still snuggle me when you’re eight?”
He thought for a moment. “No, Gransley. But maybe when I’m six.”
I laughed. “Sounds fair.” It broke my heart that in this short couple of months my grandson had started calling me “Gransley,” not “Gwansley.” He was growing up too quickly. They all did.
I heard voices on the landing. I couldn’t make out what they were saying, but Sloane and Emerson sounded like they were deep in conversation.
The back door flung open, and Caroline called, “Who’s ready to party?” Mom’s weak voice called back, “I am!”
I rushed into her room. It was dark, the blinds were closed, and she seemed so small in the king bed that she was barely detectable. I leaned down and kissed her. “Good morning, Mom. Do you feel like you can get up today?”
“Yes,” she said in her small voice. “I have to get up. I have a party to get ready
