My eyelids were heavy again, and I couldn’t tell if the mom who was angry was real, in the plane seat, or in my dream. I opened my eyes again, right before I saw the man she was talking to. I looked forward again to Taylor’s kicking feet, to the stream of light that was pouring through the plane window, how it made Jack’s dark brown hair almost black. My eyes closed again. I forced them open as Jack turned and I saw his expression. He was always so calm and laid back. This face was anything but. This face was mad.
In that moment I couldn’t hold off anymore. I felt my hand drop out of Emerson’s and my head collapse back into the seat. As my subconscious took over and wandered back into my dream, it hit me: The man on the beach that day wasn’t a stranger at all. The man was Jack.
CAROLINE’S HOUSE IN EAST Hampton suited her perfectly. It wasn’t big, and it wasn’t on the water, but every inch of it was elegant and just modern enough. The entire palette was water blues and creams with touches of gold, seagrass, and plenty of natural beauty from resin coral and oyster shells.
I had never been to it, of course. And walking through the front door, I instantly felt calm. I assumed that’s what Mom had been going for when she designed it.
I was exhausted but proud, too. I had made it. I had lived through the flight, and we were here. Mom and Jack were staying in a hotel while the rest of us piled into Caroline and James’s house. When I walked into the living room with AJ and Taylor, who promptly scampered off to explore, I did a double take and felt my décor-induced calm dissipate as quickly as it had come. As Caroline ran to meet us, I said, “What is that?”
“Well, it’s so good to see you too, sweet sister,” she said. “Thank you for the warm greeting.”
“Caroline,” I said, an edge to my voice. “Why is Jack’s painting here?”
She looked at me innocently. “Oh, well, we thought it would be so nice to donate it to the cause. We’re going to auction it off tonight as I accept my award.”
“No,” I said. “I told you I’m not ready. I told you I don’t want my work out there in the world yet. It’s still just for me.”
“But Sloane,” she said, that crafty calm in her voice, “don’t you remember? You owe me.”
I felt the color drain from my face then because she had me. I did owe her. She had paid my credit card bill, and I owed her a favor. There was no way out.
To change the subject, Caroline showed me the white linen maxi dress she had bought for me. It was simple, but somehow made me seem taller and made my shoulders seem more sculpted.
As I wore the dress later that night, feeling somewhat confident despite the fact that I was totally out of my element among the coiffed-to-perfection women and men milling about a neighbor’s yard, I was so proud of my sister. Her hair was swept up off her face in a simple updo that made her neck seem swanlike, and she was wearing a rose-colored, silk jumpsuit that would have made anyone even slightly less tan look sickly.
As I was admiring her behind her podium, I came back into the moment and it registered with me what Caroline was saying. I felt all the breath leave my body as I heard, “You won’t find her on the Internet; you won’t see her in the magazines. She’s under the radar, but she’s one of the hottest up-and-comers in the art world today.” She paused. “We’re going to start the bidding at five thousand dollars.”
I understood now how people felt in those dreams where they’re naked in public. I may as well have stripped my dress off. All of my pulse points throbbed. I was a failure, a fraud, a nobody. And five thousand dollars? She was insane. This was humiliating. No one was going to buy this thing, and I was going to be a laughingstock.
Only, people started putting their hands in the air. Caroline left her podium and stood beside me. “See, Sloane? It’s beautiful. It really, truly is.” She looked at me intently and took my hands in hers. “You’re beautiful. And you can do this.”
She meant I could paint. She meant I could put myself out there. But she also meant I could raise my two sons and support my family. Hell, I could even get on an airplane and fly to New York.
A few moments later, Caroline hugged me and said, “Did you see that? You just raised eleven thousand dollars for at-risk youth. Aren’t you proud? See what good your art can do?”
It was one of the proudest moments of my life so far, a defining one. Because I had faced my biggest fears that day. I had gotten back on an airplane to New York. I had released my art back into the world. I touched the monogrammed cuff on my arm, realizing Grammy was right. I was strong and I was brave.
I knew Adam would come home. I believed it with all my heart and soul. But if the worst happened, if the boys and I were alone forever, we would be OK.
I walked up to my painting, the one that had somehow set me free, one last time. My family was standing all
