ansley
It was a hallowed morning in Peachtree Bluff. Peachtree High had just won the football game against its major rival. And that could only mean one thing: A parade!
Peachtree has a parade for every occasion. Every occasion. Of course, there are the usuals: Thanksgiving, Christmas, and Fourth of July. We also celebrate Arbor Day, Biker Week, Teacher Appreciation Day, every mayor in history’s inauguration anniversary, Pirate Invasion. (Yes, pirates invade. And they camp out in authentic pirate-era tents and eat food off fires and drink grog.) Oh, and Dr. Seuss’s birthday—that one is actually my favorite. Anyway, you get the idea.
After the parade, every dock owner in town has to have fireworks on his or her dock. I am terrified of fireworks, so Hal sees to it that my dock is appropriately lit—in more ways than one, I can assure you.
And today we would get to do all of that. I knew the kids were going to love the parade, and I was excited for the opportunity to show off my family. The entire town attends every parade, of course. You would think it was mandatory, considering how many of us show up. As I looked in the mirror, applying my mascara, I briefly wondered if Jack would be there. But I pushed the thought away. It was one of many, many thoughts about Jack I had pushed away ever since that night on his boat.
“Good morning, good morning,” I sang as I walked down the steps. It was certainly nice to have this house filled with little voices and even smaller feet. So sure, there were wet towels on the floors and toothpaste stuck to the sinks and diapers filling the garbage and crumbs everywhere. But it was wonderful all the same. Taylor and Adam were chasing each other around the kitchen island, giggling. I couldn’t wait to watch their towheads get even whiter in the summer, just like Emerson’s hair had. Emerson was throwing a bunch of inedible-looking plants into the blender. I was glad to see that she was blending whole foods this morning, not extracting their juice. This was progress, sadly.
Caroline was texting, brow furrowed.
“Where’s Vivi?” I asked.
“Sleeping.” Caroline smiled, but I could tell it was fake.
“Don’t torture yourself.”
“Oh, I’m not.” She looked back down. “Well, I mean, I am. But I’m torturing myself because I have to do my hospital tour.”
Caroline was a bit of a germophobe. Maybe not a bit. More like someone should medicate that child. I was hoping that her midwife would calm her. I didn’t want to add fuel to the fire but figured giving her something else to think about would help.
“Have you given any thought to whether James will be there for the delivery?”
She scrunched her nose. “I may not have told him that Vivi’s going to school here yet.”
My eyes widened. I couldn’t imagine that she still hadn’t told him. But my job here was to keep my daughter as calm as possible. “Well, darling, I am sure he will understand.”
He most definitely would not understand.
“All right, crew,” I said. “I’m heading down to the store. If anyone needs anything, holler. Or send a carrier pigeon.” I don’t know why I thought that was funny, but I laughed. No one else did. Just like old times.
Sloane hugged me. “Thanks so much for letting us stay, Mom.”
I patted her back, wondering if Caroline was going to mention that she was spreading cream cheese on a bagel.
As I turned to walk out the front door, I heard Caroline say, “Oh, my gosh. That’s so funny. I had forgotten that people even ate gluten.”
Yup. There it was.
As my feet hit the sidewalk, I looked back and forth between the rolling water on the right and the white clapboard homes on the left. As I was beginning to feel calm and free and meditative, my phone rang. I rolled my eyes. I wasn’t going to answer it. But it was Scott. And he never called. We were rarely in the same time zone.
“Ans!” he said back.
Every time I heard his voice, I wished I talked to him more.
“Where in the world are you?”
“Well,” he said, “I’m actually hopping on a plane to Florida.”
“Oh, please go see Mom,” I said. I waved to a couple of people on the street.
“That’s what I’m doing,” he said. “I haven’t seen her in a few weeks, so I thought I’d go check things out.” He paused, and my stomach sank. “Do you think she’s doing OK?” he asked.
I thought back. She had seemed like her usual self to me. Although truth be told, I’d been so preoccupied with the girls lately, I hadn’t talked to her as much. When I did, she always seemed to be flitting off to one place or another. She and Scott had always been closer. “I haven’t noticed anything off, but I haven’t seen her in six months. She seems happy and busy to me. What’s up?”
“Maybe nothing,” he said. “I’m probably overreacting. She has seemed confused to me sometimes lately.”
I laughed. “Well, Scott. She’s eighty-three. Some confusion might begin to set in at some point.”
“I guess,” he said. “How are four of my five favorite girls?”
“Is that like the four out of five dentists that prefer Trident?” I smiled. “Well, your favorite sister is doing really well. She is ecstatic to have all her grandchildren home at once. And your nieces are hanging in there.”
“Do you know what’s cool?” Scott asked.
“What’s cool?”
“How it used to drive me nuts when we were kids that you had to be my favorite sister but I wasn’t necessarily your favorite brother, but now . . .”
I laughed. “Scott! You should be ashamed of yourself!”
“Oh, I knew this whole time that if I just waited long enough John would screw it up, and favorite-brother status would be mine.” He laughed a villain-in-a-superhero-movie laugh.
We said our good-byes, and I was still smiling as I entered the store.
But the light feeling floated away, and I began feeling heavy. And stressed. I had no idea what we would do when we got to the point where Mom needed help. But you didn’t have to be a genius to realize that it would fall to me. It was a Southern daughter’s life purpose to care for her mother. Which was the highest form of irony, since she hadn’t helped me one bit when I needed her the most. As Mom (and Scarlett O’Hara) would say, I’d think about that tomorrow.
When I got to the front door of the store, Kimmy was waiting for me. She had a huge basket filled with delicious-looking produce.
“Oh, thanks, Kimmy,” I said, as I slid the key into the lock. I pushed harder than usual. It had rained late the night before, and rain always made the door swell.
“Word on the street is that you’re feeding more than one these days.”
I laughed gleefully, realizing that I truly felt as happy as I sounded—today, anyway. “I am, indeed,” I said. “In fact, could you head down to the house? Emerson consumes the amount of produce in that basket hourly, and I’m sure she’d be glad to see you.”
Kimmy’s eyes lit up, a bit of a rare sight. “Sounds great.”
I reached into my bag and handed her a hundred-dollar bill. “Just keep a tab going, if you don’t mind.”
“Kale yeah, I will.”
We both laughed. I elbowed her lightly. “Maybe we could make you ‘Kale Yeah Kimmy.’ ”
She rolled her eyes. And I had enough of that to deal with, didn’t I?
The door had barely closed behind me when the bell tinkled its happy sound. “She’s an odd bird, isn’t she?”
I couldn’t help but smile, and I so hoped I wasn’t blushing. But he had that effect on me. “She is that.”
I turned to smile at him, and he smiled right back. Jack motioned with his head toward the waterfront. “Some guys are here today replacing the teak on the deck. Would you mind giving me a hand with the stain color?”
I looked down at my watch. “Now?”
I was a little disappointed. This wasn’t a social call.
Just then, Leah breezed in. “I’m here. All is right with the world. I’m going to finish putting together the mood boards for Jack’s boat today. And then I’ll sort that new shipment of accessories from Barbara Cosgrove and arrange them—so that you can rearrange them.”
“Well, then,” Jack said. “Seems like you’re nothing more than a fixture in this store.” He pointed up. “Like the pretty light. How much is that?”
I pulled his hand down and shook my head. “You can’t afford it.”
He laughed and held his arm out to me, and I took it. “A beautiful fixture,” he whispered, as we crossed the threshold, making me blush in earnest now.
I wondered what my daughters would think if they saw me on the arm of a very handsome man—who wasn’t the one who raised them. But a few minutes of pretending wasn’t going to hurt anyone. Nope. Not a bit.
“Thanks for coming by the other night,” Jack said. “Sorry if I was a downer.”
I smiled. “A downer? No, not at all. You were wonderful.”
“Good. How is life at the Murphy mansion?” Jack quipped.
“It is hectic and lovely.” I smiled at him.
It was such a beautiful morning. The sun was shining, and the trees were blowing in the breeze. My dress and light sweater were perfect. There was no doubt about it, spring was around the corner. But I couldn’t focus on any of it, because all I could think about was my arm and Jack’s arm and his eyes and those dimples and the way he made my stomach feel like it was flip-flopping around in my insides. I was too old to be acting and feeling this way. And he would be gone in a matter of weeks when his boat was seaworthy again. But maybe that was what made it so good. I didn’t have to feel that urge to run away, because it couldn’t go anywhere.
I let go of Jack’s arm reluctantly, knowing that I would only put mine back around his if he offered and not knowing whether he would. It was like being a teenager again in a lot of ways. You weren’t even considering sex. Not even kissing, really. Just flirting a little, testing the waters, wondering when your hand would brush his again. When he would say that thing that made you feel special and beautiful all at once. And hoping it wouldn’t be too long.
“I would love to meet your girls,” Jack said. “And I made a gift for little Adam.”
Despite my happy feelings, the warning bells rang in my mind. I had realized decades earlier that a part of me would always love Jack. But my love for him couldn’t begin to touch my love for my girls. Yes, they were encouraging me to date. But my motherly instinct told me that this wasn’t the right time to bring someone new into their lives. They had enough turmoil. Plus, I couldn’t be sure since I’d never been through this, but I felt pretty certain that you didn’t introduce a man to your children until you were very serious. Jack and I hadn’t even been on a date.
“Jack,” I said softly. “Would it be OK if I waited awhile before I introduced you to the girls?”
He stopped walking and was looking at me. “Oh, yes. Of course. Sorry.” He shook his head. “I’m getting ahead of myself. It’s just that it has always felt so easy to be with you.”
I nodded. It had. It was natural, like sliding back into a great-fitting pair of sunglasses that you had lost and then found again.
As I approached the hunk of junk that was supposed to be a boat one day, my stomach turned again, for a different reason. I had vision, but honestly, I wasn’t sure about this one.
“Ansley!”
“Sheldon!” He was sanding the front of the boat.
He embraced me in a big, sweaty hug that, frankly, I could have done without. “So are you the high priestess of teak stain? That’s what I’m told.”
I laughed and looked at Jack. “Why, thank you, sir.”
He tipped a fake hat at me.
I reached my leg over the side of the boat, my patent-leather-wedge-clad foot tapping the deck.
“Ma’am,” Sheldon said. “I’m not sure about your footwear.”
I lifted my foot. “See? Rubber soles.”
“That’s a real woman,” Sheldon said, handing me three pieces of teak. I pretended to study them, but in reality, I made up my mind the moment I saw them. I handed him back the one in the middle.
“Wow,” Jack said. “I looked at those for like forty-five minutes before I came to get you. What do I owe you?”
I shook my head and looked at him. “You’ve given me enough, Jack.”
I turned to walk back to the store, and he followed me, matching my pace, our legs moving in sync. “Can I take you to lunch?” he asked.
I had so much to do. It pained me to say, “I need to get back to work.”
His face fell, and I couldn’t stand that I had been the one to make it do that. So I said, “Well, maybe we could grab a quick bite.”
He smiled and offered his arm to me again, and, just like that, I was giddy and carefree.
“I’ll have your mood boards ready tomorrow,” I said. “I’ll get a feel for what you want, and then we’ll go from there.”
He stopped walking and said, “I want whatever you want, Ansley.”
And I knew right then and there, despite my fear, despite my hesitation, despite the queasy feeling in my stomach, that I wanted much, much more.