Caroline: All Mariah Wants Nine Days Post-Hurricane

THE DAY VIVI WAS BORN was the best day of my life. Not that the day Preston was born wasn’t equally amazing in its own way, but when Vivi was born it was like she was the bow tied on top of the gift of the life the universe had given me. I had wanted to marry one of New York’s most eligible bachelors and start a family with him. And it had happened. I had married James, moved into his diamond-studded world, and having Vivi completed the picture, the life plan. I was unspeakably happy. I remember holding her for the first time and thinking that I would never let anything happen to her, that I would protect her with my life, at all costs.

While that sentiment still held true, it had become harder. How could I protect her from the hurt this divorce was causing? How could I keep her safe when she was constantly putting herself in harm’s way? I wanted to cover her in bubble wrap and stuff her in a closet for a few years, pulling her out once she had matured a little and the storm had broken.

She was still asleep when the sun rose, and Emerson, Mom, Sloane, and I decided to try to get a few hours of sleep on the boat before we went back to Mom’s and braved whatever was waiting for us there. Now that the downed power lines had been fixed and all the major debris removed, the bridge would reopen to residents in a matter of hours. Peachtree Bluff would rebuild, and we would all be okay. It was a new day. It was shocking how good the town looked, the contrast between now and a few days ago steep, I realized as I looked out the tiny window of the Miss Ansley.

And my daughter had been here through all of it. She had narrowly escaped being a part of the destruction. I sat on the side of Vivi’s small bed, cross-legged, facing her, and watched her placid, dreaming face.

I remembered being that same rebellious teenager. I remembered feeling so angry and having no place to put all those emotions. After my dad died, I clung desperately to any sprig of control I had over my life, and I’d lost all faith in those who were supposed to protect me. I knew how Vivi was feeling because I had been there too. And that’s why this was so incredibly hard for me.

Her eyelids fluttered, and she looked up at me. “Mom?”

I could tell she was groggy, maybe even wondering if she was dreaming.

“You’ve done a good job,” I said. “Cleaning up and helping out around here. I’m proud of you and how you’ve stepped up.”

She smiled. “Thanks.”

“But you put yourself and your family in a lot of danger, Vivi,” I continued. “I am grateful that you’re okay, but you put all of us in a position we never should have been in. This easily could have gone the other way. You could have been hurt.” It was almost impossible to get the next words out of my mouth: “You could have died.”

“Mom…” she protested, but I put my hand up to stop her.

“I know that you are upset about your dad and me. I know that you blame me. I know that you feel like your life is falling apart. I’ve lived that. I’ve walked in your shoes, and I can assure you I made some bad decisions in the wake of that.” I cleared my throat, thinking about getting suspended from high school for smoking in the bathroom and being so horrid to my mother when all she was trying to do was fix things. In my defense, she hadn’t told us that our dad had lost all our money. I might have understood her a little better if she had.

“But I am finished being patient with your tantrums, and I am done tiptoeing around your moods. Your dad and I are getting divorced, and I hate it, and I’m sorry. But we still love you, we’re still a family, and we are all going to have to adjust to a new reality.” Even as I said it, I wanted to roll my eyes. James and I were still living in the same building, for God’s sake. It wasn’t ideal for our children that we wouldn’t be together. But I had to think that being unhappy together was potentially even worse than being happy apart. Not that I felt happy. But that was neither here nor there.

“Your dad and I have talked about what your punishment should be.” I was suddenly regretting telling James that I thought this should be a mother/daughter thing. Weirdly, I wished he were here with me, handing down this punishment. “Our instinct was to ground you, but we know you need your friends right now. So we’ve decided that you will do one hundred hours of community service, starting now. I know you’ve already done a lot to help around here, but doing a lot more will make you feel better. I want you to see and feel and remember how blessed you are to have a home and a family who loves you. I want you to understand that there is no time or space for this petty misbehavior in a world where you are full of gifts and talents that you need to let shine.”

I felt like I could keep rambling, but maybe it was better to stop now. I had practiced this speech in my head more than once, but, even still, I wasn’t sure that I had said everything I needed to say. I wasn’t sure if this was the right punishment, but I did know that it would put Vivi’s life in perspective. And that was the point, really. I didn’t want her to be miserable to atone for her sins. I wanted her to find a way to be happy. And I really thought this would help. I knew I hadn’t fully addressed what was perhaps the most important part of the issue, the part about not telling her Jack was her biological grandfather. But we would get there.

“Mom,” she said. “I’m sorry. I swear. I really am. I promise you that I didn’t mean for this to happen. I went off to think, but I didn’t know I’d get stuck on the boat—I’d been planning to be back in plenty of time. I wanted to go on that cruise with Gransley and Grandjack. I didn’t want to mess up anyone’s plans or anything like that. It’s just that my phone died when I got out there, and I didn’t know how to get back home.”

“Viv, I know teenagers aren’t rational thinkers. I get it. I’ve read the books, and, believe it or not, I was a teenager once too.” She rolled her eyes. Right on cue. “But I know that smart, capable, kind little girl I raised is in there somewhere. And I’d really like to have her back if at all possible.”

“I know I’ve blamed you for a lot of things that weren’t your fault.” She paused and looked down at her hands. “And, if I really, really think about it, part of the reason I ran off before the hurricane was to make you worry.” She looked back up at me. “I think that’s why I kept sneaking out in New York too. But, Mom, I swear I only wanted you to worry for a little bit. I never meant to put anyone in danger.”

I nodded. “But that’s what I mean, Viv. You have to think through these things. When you sneak out or run away, you aren’t just making me worried. You’re putting yourself in danger.”

She wrapped her arms around herself, as if realizing that was true. “I get that now. When I was on that boat, when I was all alone, I realized that I could get really hurt. And I’m not going to do that anymore. I promise.”

I nodded. I wanted to believe her. But I knew we had a long way to go.

Then she looked back at me, and I saw a conviction in her eyes that hadn’t been there before. “But, Mom, you did lie to me. I shouldn’t have had to find out that Grandjack was my real grandfather like that. You should have told me.”

Damn. I was hoping we could gloss right over the whole my-being-wrong thing and just stick with all the ways that she was wrong instead. No such luck. I nodded. “Baby, trust me, I didn’t want you to find out like that. But you aren’t too out of the loop. Sloane and I didn’t even know Jack was our sperm donor until three years ago.”

She shook her head. “Wait. Seriously? So, like, Gransley was dating Grandjack and you didn’t know?”

I nodded. Yup. It was just as crazy as it sounded.

Her eyes went wide. “Whoa. Were you mad at Gransley?”

This was my fork in the road. I could tell her the truth: yes, I felt angry and hurt and betrayed. Or I could lie, save face, and make the case that she shouldn’t be mad at me either. But I guessed the issue here was her being mad that I hadn’t been honest with her. So maybe I should try.

So I nodded. “Yeah. I was very upset. But now I see Gransley’s side. Sloane and I always knew we had a sperm donor. For most of our lives it didn’t matter who it was because we didn’t know him anyway. And then when Mom and Jack got together, she had a hard time finding the right moment to tell us. Just like I had a hard time finding the right moment to tell you.”

She nodded. “Mom?”

“Yeah.”

“I know that Grandjack will never feel like your dad. But he really does feel like my grandad. Does that hurt your feelings?”

I willed the tears not to spring to my eyes. Inside that brash and bold fifteen-year-old there was still a little vulnerability, that sweet softness that I had missed so much. In that moment, I felt so overwhelmingly grateful for the synchronicity of the universe. I knew now, three years later, that Jack would never feel like my father, biologically or no. Carter would always be my dad. But, as a stepdad, as a grandfather, Jack was pretty fantastic.

“I’m glad, honey. I really, truly am. I want that for you.” I paused. “Now, enough of this serious talk. Tell me about the boy.”

She shrugged, her messy hair falling over her face. But her grin totally gave her away. “Do you know how it feels when a guy gets you, like who you really are? And you just know it?” she said softly.

I raised one eyebrow. “So you’re in trouble, in other words,” I replied. I missed the simplicity of those days, when the promise of a future meeting could be such an absolute thrill. I wondered if I would ever get that feeling again.

She laughed. “I don’t know. I think he has a girlfriend.”

“You think?”

“He’s not a big poster, but there are a few pics of him with some girl on Insta.”

I pushed the hair behind her ear. “Never, ever be the other woman,” I said. “But if you want my advice”—she probably did not—“being friends first is always good.”

She flopped back on her bed dramatically. “Friends…”

“Get dressed and come on up to the galley,” I said. “I’ll make you some eggs.”

The boys were huddled around an iPad even though they’d had too much screen time lately. I pretended I didn’t notice. Sloane was leaning over the small counter with a cup of coffee, talking to Mom and Emerson. “Adam doesn’t think Peachtree Perk will need that much work, and fortunately he can do most of the repairs himself.”

Adam was very handy. We were lucky to have him in the family.

“How’d it go?” Mom asked.

“She’ll be up in a second,” I whispered. “But it went well. I feel like I got in there somehow. Maybe.” It was hard to know. A notification from my Timehop popped up on my phone, and I gasped when I opened it. On this day last year, I’d posted one of my Christmas card photos. I had almost forgotten to tell my family about my plans…

“Everyone,” I said, just as Vivi appeared, “I know it’s a little late in the season, but due to the unforeseen circumstances of this year, I have scheduled our family Christmas photos with Peachtree Photography for tomorrow.”

“Mom!” Vivi practically shrieked. “Do you see this hair? I can’t have pictures. I need highlights.”

“What?” Mom protested, aghast. “Caroline, don’t you think we have enough going on without adding that to our plates?”

I crossed my arms. “We have enough going on that we don’t need to commemorate this year of our family’s life, that we don’t need to take the time to send Christmas cards to the people we love and who love us back?”

Sloane rolled her eyes, and Mom groaned. Emerson was the last holdout. I would convince Mom and Sloane either way, but if Emerson was on my side, it would make things that much easier.

“She’s right,” Emerson said. “I hate it, but she’s right.”

“Yes!” I said, knowing I had won. “And, look, the company I use mails them for you. You never even have look at them. If everyone can just send me their holiday card list, I’ll take care of the rest.” I grabbed my lightweight down parka, which was lying over a kitchen stool, and put it on. “I’m going out for a run. Please be prepared to discuss outfits when I get back.”

“I used to think that you were like this because you didn’t have a job,” Sloane said. “Now I know that you are generally just better at life than everyone else.”

I smiled. Lately, I felt pretty positive that I sucked at life. I couldn’t keep my marriage together; my daughter was a total train wreck. But I had made magic at Sloane Emerson, and I was still capable of getting a Christmas card together despite a hurricane. So I guessed that was something. I’d take it.

A few minutes later, I was jogging through town, admiring the waterfront and thinking about the randomness of nature. One street back from the waterfront and on many of the side streets, it was as if the hurricane never happened. My house—which was slated to be torn down in three days—was totally destroyed, Jack’s had some damage, and Mom’s was fine. We had neighbors whose houses and shops were completely untouched, some that had minor flooding or lost a few shingles, and some who, like me, had lost everything. Against all odds, I smiled as I ran by my house, which was surrounded by a huge chain-link fence in preparation for the demo. I had lost tons of money. This had been a major financial setback. But, somehow, that house being gone was a symbol. I was poorer, sure. But, damn it, I was free.

Now more than ever. I loved the way my body felt when it was running, the sun on my face, the wind cooling me, my ponytail swishing. The cold felt nice and Christmasy, adding to the allure of the decorated houses and shops I ran past.

I almost didn’t stop when I saw a man waving at me, just assuming he was being friendly. But then I saw that smile, and I slowed down just in time. I tapped my earbuds to stop Mariah’s Christmas album—I mean, it isn’t Christmas if you aren’t all Mariah wants—and said, “What on earth are you doing here already?”

Wes laughed. “I could ask you the same thing.” He paused. “I came back to check on my house and my parents’.”

“And?”

“And all is well.” He grimaced. “But not your house.”

“And guess who doesn’t have insurance?”

He put his hand to his mouth. “How is that even possible?”

I smiled. “It is such a long story.”

He raised his eyebrow. “Want to tell me over dinner?”

It gave me butterflies. Besides one date with a guy named Peter from college—where he had essentially proposed and scarred me for life—I hadn’t been on a date since I’d left James. Butterflies weren’t a feeling I was terribly accustomed to. But they still felt good.

I nodded.

He exhaled deeply. “That took every ounce of courage I had.”

“Really? You seemed so nonchalant.”

He looked at me very seriously. “I practiced in the mirror. A lot.”

We both laughed. “I already said yes,” I said. “Seems pretty low stakes at this point.”

“Yes. But that was a theoretical yes. This has an actual plan and time attached. It’s a bigger deal.”

He was so charming. “I’m the one who should be nervous. I haven’t been on a date since George Bush was president.”

He furrowed his brow. “Oh, wait. You thought this was a date?”

For a split second I was about to be horrifically embarrassed. But then he laughed. Oh, thank God.

“I’m going to go back to Atlanta for a few days for some of Brad’s Christmas stuff at school, but I’ll be back on the nineteenth. Does that work? A couple of the restaurants off the waterfront are already opening back up, I think. But if not, we’ll figure it out.”

“Wine,” I said. “That’s all I really need. It doesn’t matter where.”

As he squeezed my hand in his, my heart raced—and I realized how cold my fingers were. “I’ll be counting down the days,” he said.

I gave him my winningest smile, tapped my earbuds, and took off again, grinning ear to ear. Baby, all I want for Christmas is you…