Sloane: Northern Side of Paradise Two Days after the Flotilla

Dear Sloane,

I might be cheating with this letter today. I’m not sure. Is stealing from your previous letters cheating? Let’s just call it “reiterating.” That sounds better. Because I know that there is one letter that you read more than any other. So, today, as you’re facing your fear of flying, getting on that plane to New York, I wanted to remind you of what I wrote you all those years ago while I was deployed:

“There are moments to advance, to lunge forward with purpose, with power, but most importantly, with passion. Because any action taken without passion? Well, it’s simply a waste of time.”

I am so grateful that now, this time, I get to be with you as you face your fears, as you advance. I get to board that plane with you just like we boarded up those houses. You don’t have to be afraid anymore, because I am always here to keep you safe.

All my love,

Adam

I touched the edge of that letter in my pocket as I sat with my family around the tiny pre-boarding area at the Peachtree Bluff airport. Even with Adam here beside me there was something about his words that emboldened me. “You aren’t going to believe how fun Christmas in New York is, buddy!” I said to Taylor, who had been to New York before but had been too little to really participate in all the Christmas activities. Being upbeat and focusing on my children was distracting me from being terrified about two things: the hurricane that was probably getting ready to destroy my town and everything in it and getting on this stupid airplane.

I didn’t admit my fears out loud, but Adam sensed my nerves. He wrapped his fingers around mine and squeezed. He smiled at me supportively. And that helped. It really did. After my dad was killed in 9/11, I refused to fly. My fear would have made more sense if my dad had been on one of the planes instead of in one of the buildings, I guess, but even still—there was something about tragedy, his being gone, and flying that were inextricably linked in my subconscious.

When Adam was MIA, Emerson had half tricked, half blackmailed me into flying to the Hamptons to see Caroline get a huge award—for her philanthropy, of all things. And it was one of Adam’s last letters that convinced me to take that huge leap, to get on that plane and never look back. I smiled at him. He—and those letters—had helped me. My fear still existed, but it was much smaller now.

I leaned my head against Adam’s shoulder, breathing in the smell of him. On that first trip years ago, I was facing the fact that life as a single mother might be my fate. Now, yes, there was a hurricane coming, and, yes, there were still things to worry about. But they were nothing compared to the idea of having to face life without Adam.

“Do we get to go ice-skating with Santa again?” AJ asked excitedly, standing in front of me. He had stopped, for the moment, wheeling his suitcase around in circles. The airport outside of Peachtree Bluff only had two gates and a few flights a day, so it wasn’t super crowded. Still, I didn’t want the kids to be too obnoxious.

“If we are going ice-skating with Santa at Rockefeller Center again, we better have some sort of fast pass,” Emerson said. “I’m not waiting in line like last year.”

Adam groaned. “That was awful.”

Caroline, who was sitting in the chair behind us, facing the other direction, said, “We’re doing the Santa brunch, and fast passes are included with that. No line.”

“Hooray!” we all cheered. The kids joined in too, not even knowing what they were cheering about. Everyone in the airport turned to look at us. Yeah. We had officially crossed the line past a little annoying.

Kyle, who was sitting in a bench perpendicular to us, with a sleeping Carter on his chest, glared.

“There’s not much I can do about the line for the Rockettes, though,” Caroline said. “They were out of VIP tickets, so we’re going to have to wait.”

“Yeah, but that’s a fun line,” Emerson said. “Everyone is so excited and in the Christmas spirit.”

“And they aren’t in the ice-skating line?” Adam questioned.

Emerson shrugged. “I’m just trying to be positive, okay?”

“What else, Mommy?” Preston asked, jumping up and down. “What else are we doing with my cousins?”

I smiled. He was so cute. No, they were all so cute, the bunch of them together. I felt a little badly for Carter, the lone girl amidst all these boys. Maybe we’d give her another girl cousin closer to her age. We had talked about having another baby, now that Adam was feeling better and everything seemed to be settled. Although I sure didn’t want to have another baby if we were getting ready to move. That sounded like a terrific nightmare. But three kids seemed right. Maybe even four.

“Well,” Caroline started. “You know how much your cousin Carter loves Frozen.” All the boys nodded. “We’re going to go see it on Broadway!”

“Yes!” they were all saying, doing superhero moves and tumbling into each other. I was positive my two had no idea what Broadway meant, but I loved that they could get this excited about anything at all.

“I got our mortgage preapproval back this morning,” Adam said.

My stomach rolled. “Already?”

I thought that was going to take weeks. Damn small Southern town banking.

Adam nodded. “Yeah. They are preapproving what we asked for—even with your credit.” He nudged my ribs playfully.

I laughed, but it wasn’t really funny. I had gotten us into a mound of credit card debt a few years earlier, but had been working to rebuild my credit ever since.

“You’re sure you want to start house hunting now?” I asked. “I mean, we could wait a while, have one more summer on the water.”

“I think it’s time. I still say it isn’t fair to your family.”

“Hey, Car and Em,” I said. “Do you think it’s time for us to move out of Mom’s house?”

“What?” Emerson said, gasping. “No. Absolutely not!”

Caroline turned around in her chair, her legs tucked up underneath her. “I need more. Why would you move out of Mom’s house?”

“Well,” Adam said, “tell the truth. Don’t you sort of resent us living there?”

“No!” Caroline retorted as Emerson said, “Um. Definitely not. Why would we?”

I smiled triumphantly at him. So that excuse was over.

“Would you tell us if you did, though?” Adam asked.

Caroline peered at him, and before she could answer, Kyle interjected, “Man, I think you’ve forgotten who you’re talking to.”

We all laughed.

“I’m just thinking that the boys need a bigger yard to play in,” Adam said.

“I have a big yard!” Caroline said. “You should buy my house!”

I scoffed. “Yeah. That’s right in our budget.” I paused, her statement registering. “But why would you sell your house?”

She shrugged. “It’s just, you know, the house James bought when he was trying to win me back. I don’t want it. I never wanted it. I come to Peachtree to see Mom. And y’all. Why do I want to stay down the street when I’m there to be with you guys? I was miserable this whole trip.”

Adam pointed at her. “See. And she can’t even stay at her own mother’s house because we’re in it.”

She shook her head. “Between the guesthouse and Jack’s house, there’s plenty of room for all of us. You’re not pinning this on me.”

“I get it, man,” Kyle said. “You need something that’s your own, that isn’t a part of Murphy world.”

“Exactly,” Adam said.

I didn’t know how to feel. Offended? Understanding? I loved him madly, but my family was everything. I paused, mulling it over.

I didn’t need anything outside of Murphy world, but maybe I could understand why Adam did. Even Jack, bless his heart, who had never wanted a family, knew that marrying Mom came with a hefty price tag: all of us. It meant no more worriless days, no more date nights, and no trips unencumbered by some hindrance, as Vivi had handily proven this week. Still, I couldn’t apologize for sweeping Adam up into the very best part of my life.

“Is that how you feel?” Adam asked Kyle. “You want something of your own too?”

Kyle shook his head. “No. Murphy world is the only place I want to be. But I get how you need your own thing.”

Emerson blew him a kiss, and Adam rolled his eyes.

“I just feel like we’re throwing away money on rent,” Adam said.

“Or,” Caroline countered, “you’re saving money by not having to pay insurance, taxes, and tremendous upkeep on a historic house.”

“Or,” Adam said back, “we could buy a newer house a few blocks down and a few blocks back and get equity, a bigger yard, and our own home.”

Emerson gasped. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

“Are you considering moving to the Northern Side of Paradise?” Caroline asked, keeping up the shocked façade.

Paradise Pub was the oldest building in town and the dividing line between the town’s old and new sections. Murphy Row was on the Southern Side of Paradise and was the part of town that people associated with Peachtree Bluff: beautiful, historic homes and charming, quaint shops. The new section was great, don’t get me wrong. It was just hard to think about leaving the neighborhood I’d called home for so long.

“I still say I should try to sell you my house,” Caroline said. “I’ll give you a good deal, and we could work something out.”

I didn’t want to hurt Adam’s pride more than it had already been wounded, so I said, as if it were on me, “Thanks, Car, but I can’t conceive of a way in which that would be possible.”

“Even if I throw in a goat?” We all laughed. Caroline nodded. “Well, you should still put their swing set and soccer goal in my yard. Then they can play over there while you look for another solution.”

Caroline’s eyes met mine, and we shared a look, a secret, like we had done so many times since we were children. Her look asked me if moving was even a consideration. My look back told her that my house and living beside Mom were important, but my husband was more so. She smiled at me. She understood. Because if I knew anything about my sister, it was that if she could rewind time and go back to the days where her family was intact and happy—before her world was irreparably shattered—she would do it in a heartbeat. She knew how important what I had right now was, and we had talked about how sometimes that meant compromising when we didn’t really want to.

“What will happen to the house if you guys move out?” Kyle asked.

Caroline shrugged. “It will sit there, I guess.”

“Ansley won’t rent it?” Adam asked.

“She only let us pay rent because you insisted,” I said. “She’d never rent it to anyone else.”

“It will probably just be overflow for guests and family,” Emerson said. “I’m totally positive she would never sell it.”

The agent behind the check-in counter a few feet away from us interrupted our conversation with an announcement. “Ladies and gentlemen, we’d now like to begin pre-boarding for flight one-one-nine-seven to New York’s LaGuardia.”

Pre-boarding. “That’s our call,” I said.

I wrangled my sweet tots and braced myself for a couple hours in the air. Adam pulled me in close to him, and I marveled at how safe he made me feel, how protected. Loving him had let me step out of my shell and into the world again. And that, I reasoned, was more important than any house could ever be.