She shook her head, and I sighed. “What is it?”
“We’re going to New York,” she said.
I laughed. “Yeah. Right. Good luck with that one.”
She set the bag down on the floor and crossed her arms. “James called me and said this Hamptons party he and Caroline are going to is really a party honoring Caroline.”
“For what?” I asked. “Her contributions to Barney’s?”
I laughed. I thought I was funny. I was in a pretty good mood this morning.
Emerson smiled. “No, actually. Our sister raised more than two million dollars for a charity that funds arts programs for at-risk schools and physically challenged communities.”
My jaw dropped. “Come again? You mean our sister? Caroline Beaumont?”
Emerson nodded.
“That’s awesome,” I said. “I’m so proud of her. But I can’t leave my kids.”
“You aren’t,” Emerson said. “We’re all going, and Caroline’s nanny is going to keep them at her house in East Hampton.”
I could feel my mouth getting dry and my pulse beginning to race. “OK. Then I’m not going because I’m sure as hell not going back to New York.”
“Sloane, our sister took care of your children for five weeks without a word of complaint. She was with them all day, every day, helping Mom. She paid all your bills, including your obscene credit card. She would do anything for either of us without a second thought. She is being honored in a big, big way, and we are going to be there for her.”
Wow. Emerson was on fire. “Geez,” I said. “You’ve spent way too much time with her this summer.”
“I have packed your bag, and I have packed the boys’ bags.” She paused. “I mean, obviously, Caroline will have what we are supposed to wear to the party sent out to the house, but your other stuff is packed. We need to leave the house at eight forty-five in the morning.”
I nodded, but I knew now was the time I could get Emerson to do something for me. I set my paintbrush down and rubbed my hands together. I reached out for Emerson’s hand. “Want to go for a walk with me? Get some fresh air?”
She shrugged, and I could tell she was suspicious. “Sure.”
As we made our way down the steps she said, “Actually, Sloane, I’m not feeling that great. Can we just go sit on the dock?”
It made my stomach churn. My little sister’s arm was wrapped around mine. I pulled up her sleeve and studied a bruise above her wrist. I shook my head. “Emerson,” I said breathlessly.
I unhooked the latch on the gate and we crossed the street. We both sat down at the end of the dock, our toes trailing in the water.
“Remember when we used to do this when we were kids?” I asked.
Emerson smiled and nodded. “Yeah. I remember. It was a huge deal when I was tall enough that my feet actually touched.”
“I know we’re grown up now,” I said, looking out across the water, past Starlite Island, out to where our stretch of water met the deep, dark ocean that sometimes felt so pristine and beautiful to me and other times so dark and looming. Today was a dark and looming time. “But you’re still my little sister, Em. You always will be. And I’m not going to stand by and let something bad happen to you.”
Emerson had canceled her last two doctor’s appointments, which was a classic Emerson move. If you don’t want to deal with it, avoid it.
Emerson turned.
“I’ll go to New York on one condition,” I said. “I will go if you go to that hematologist Caroline found while we’re there.”
She scrunched her nose.
“If I have to face my fear, you have to face yours too.”
Emerson rolled her eyes. “Fine,” she said.
“Grand,” I replied. I noticed she still looked nervous.
I knew how she felt because I felt nervous too. If you didn’t have the finality of a diagnosis, in her case or, in my case, a body, you could deny what was happening to you. “It will be OK,” I whispered. “Once they figure out what’s wrong with you, they can fix it.”
She shrugged and bit her lip. “Grammy dying and Adam being MIA has put everything into perspective,” she said. “I mean, my whole life.”
I leaned back, resting on my hands.
“Everything I’ve thought was important feels kind of stupid now.” She paused. “I mean, I might not be able to have kids. The treatments might not work.” She sighed, and I could see her chin quivering. She looked up at me, searching for an answer. “Sloane, I could die.”
I couldn’t even entertain that thought. “Em, no,” I said, sitting up, pulling her into me. I had been the fragile one these past few months. I had been the one who was crumbling and needed someone to give her strength. Now it was Emerson. “We don’t even know what’s wrong yet.” I squeezed her hand and whispered, “You’re going to be fine.”
I looked out over the water, at a shrimp trawler making its way back home. I didn’t want Emerson to see the fear on my face or the tears in my eyes. My sister might be really sick. My sister could die.
The fear of flying and going back to New York was nothing, absolutely nothing, compared to the fear of losing my sister. I thought of Adam and what he would do, and I made it my personal goal to get Emerson any and all treatment and help she needed. I thought of the Army, of its motto, of what Adam always said to me when I was feeling conflicted. I would continue to repeat it to myself over and over again as I faced my fears over
