Chapter 20
CHAPTER 20
“ H ey, do you want to go somewhere with me today?”
Burke popped into the kitchen as Georgie was finishing her breakfast and reading her to-do list for the day. She froze, her mind in a tumult. Today was going to be the day she put the final touches on the decorations for the winter festival. Her list of things that still needed done was approximately four pages long. She absolutely did not have time to leave the inn. On the other hand, Burke never asked for help. She couldn’t say no, if he genuinely needed her.
“Is it really important? Do you need me?” she asked, more than half hopeful he’d say no.
He nodded. Not exactly the pleading she’d envisioned, but he also wasn’t great at asking for things. With a final regretful glance toward her list, she stood. “Okay. Let me grab my things.”
Georgette could be quick, especially when she wanted to hurry so she could get back and do her work. She grabbed her purse, glanced in the mirror, smoothed a couple of flyaway hairs, and she was ready.
Burke was already in the car waiting for her by the time she was finished. They pulled onto the road and headed toward the highway. “What do you need help with today?” she asked.
“Something important,” was all he said, staring stoically through the dash.
“Is it a secret?” she asked.
“No. I’ll tell you when we get there.”
Georgette pulled out a piece of paper and pen.
“What are you writing down?” Burke asked her.
“My to do list,” she said. If she went over it again and wrote everything down, maybe it would help take some of the pressure off her. Maybe she didn’t have as much to do as she thought she did.
“Try to forget it today, you work too hard,” Burke said.
“I can’t, Burke. I have so much to do. There’s no way I’ll get it all done before the festival, at this rate.”
“I’ll help you,” Burke promised.
It was a sweet sentiment, but he didn’t take the initiative to do the things she wanted, meaning she had to think of them and ask him. The mental weight was still on her. Not that it was his fault. He had no idea the plans in her head, nor how they should look, nor in what order they should be done. Am I doing too much? She wondered but wouldn’t allow herself to admit that the answer might be yes. And she wouldn’t let herself look at how much pressure she was putting on the event because if she did that, it felt like defeat or failure. She would get everything done and it would be spectacular and the town would be grateful, the end.
They drove for a couple of hours, to a mall in Bangor. Burke pulled into the lot and turned off the car. Georgie looked around.
“What is this?” she asked.
“A mall.”
“But why are we here?” she asked.
“I need your help to pick out a Christmas gift for my mom,” Burke said. Then he opened the car door and stepped out while Georgie stared at the spot he had been, speechless.
When she failed to emerge from the car, he came around to her side and opened the door. “Are you coming?”
She eased from the car. “Are you serious?”
“As a heart attack. Why?”
Georgette pressed her hands to her temples, trying to hold her brain in. “Burke, I have a million things to do today. This is basically my last chance to decorate because I need to finish the food the next couple of days.”
“It’ll be fine,” Burke said, his attention already on the mall, eyes squinted as if he could see inside the building.
Georgette contemplated kicking his shins. Could he really be this oblivious? Yes, because it was Burke. But he wasn’t usually so selfish, so thoughtless. “Burke,” she said, exasperated beyond all reason.
“What?” he said, completely incognizant of the inconvenience to her schedule.
Georgie sighed. Even if he turned around and took her home immediately, she would already have lost hours of the day. She might as well focus on what he wanted done and start afresh tomorrow. She massaged her temples. “What exactly do you want to buy your mother?”
“Something that says I love you but I need a few states of space from you,” Burke said.
“Maybe a radiation lantern? It has a warm glow, but if you get close to it you’ll die,” she suggested.
Burke patted his pockets. “I should write this down.”
“What do you usually get her?” she asked.
“A something of the month club,” Burke said.
“A what?”
“You know, like jelly or pears or something. One time it was coffee, except I forgot she doesn’t drink coffee. That was not a good year.”
“Does she buy you presents?” Georgie asked.
“She usually makes something, a scarf or something. I have a lot of scarves.”
“I have never once seen you wear a scarf,” Georgie noted.
“Exactly. So maybe my mom’s not a good gift giver, either.”
“Okay, let’s see what we can find.” Georgette turned and headed toward the mall, Burke beside her. “Where are you going?” she asked when he entered and immediately headed toward a store.
“The hat store. I can buy her a hat,” he said.
“First of all those are all baseball caps,” Georgette noted.
“So?”
“So is your mother a long-haul trucker?” she asked.
He squinted at the store. “What’s your point? They seem like nice hats.”
“Does she wear hats?”
“No, I have never once seen her wear a hat,” Burke said, shaking his head.
Georgie rubbed her temples again.
“You keep doing that,” Burke pointed out. “Are you sick?”
“No, my brain is somersaulting,” she said. “You have to think like your mother. What does your mother like?”
“Machiavellian mind games, control, manipulation, and guilt,” Burke said.
“Have you considered buying her a small country to run,” Georgie said.
“Yes, but I haven’t been able to find one for sale,” Burke said.
“What about music? Does she like that?”
“I don’t know,” Burke said.
“Clothes?”
He shrugged.
“Shoes?”
“I presume so, because she usually wears them,” Burke said.
“Does she have any hobbies?” He opened his mouth, but Georgie preempted him, “I mean besides mind control and manipulation.”
“Oh, not that I know of.”
“Does she like getting her nails done? Is she into hair products or makeup?”
He shrugged.
“Reading? Gardening?”
He shrugged again.
“Does she have any pets?” Georgie asked.
“No,” Burke said.
“Why not?”
He stopped short and stared down at her. “I don’t know. Now that I think of it, she’d do well with something she could love on and control.”
“There you go, there’s an idea. Dog or cat?”
“Definitely cat. She wouldn’t want to have to take a dog out all the time. And dogs are too happy. She needs something with more anger to match energies.”
“So, here’s what you do: assemble a care box for everything she’ll need for a cat and then tell her you want her to pick one out and you’ll pay for it.” She paused. “I mean, assuming you can afford all that?” She glanced up at him in question.
“I can afford a cat and cat supplies,” he assured her.
“Good, let’s go to the pet store,” she said, tugging his sleeve to lead him behind her.
With a final reluctant glance at the time, Georgette shoved the phone in her pocket and led him to the pet store.