Chapter 14
Britain
“...You’re with me…You’re mine...will my girlfriend be available…” is playing over and over in my mind as I shower this morning. Every time I replay it, it feels like my stomach drops a little. Like when you drive over a hill and it takes a moment for your body to catch up to the change in elevation. It’s a little drop, over and over, in a good way.
Last night was beyond words. I’m still on cloud nine that he fucking came when I gave him head. I’ve never been able to do that for someone before, but it quickly became my personal mission when he said he’d been close before sex. See, I am good at blow jobs, too.
I haven’t been fucked that well in, well, a LONG time. No pun intended, I laugh to myself, turning off the water and slipping out of the shower door that’s just like the iron-framed windows at Broken Ridge. “...I’ve wanted you like this ever since I saw you in my office.” Fuck, he’s going to haunt me all day, and rightfully so, he’s my…boyfriend? I haven’t had a boyfriend in like 16 years, it feels weird to hear the word rolling around in my brain.
Jess is going to flip her shit. I mean well and truly lose her mind, and then she’s probably going to demand photos. I’m sure he has a headshot online or something. I haven’t really internet stalked him, mostly because I don’t want to pull up the MS Group website. I’m a bit scared at what I’ll find, but I can tell Jess to look, get crazy.
I get ready, giving myself a killer blow out, then choose an outfit for the day and an outfit for tonight. Today is casual, no makeup, my Spearhead sweatshirt, leggings, and Jordans. My outfit for tonight is casual, too, but hopefully just right for a night at Liam’s lake house. It’s a midi dress from D?en. The length is perfect for the chillier nights here, and then I can go commando, which is even better. I smile to myself.
Once I’m dressed, I grab a notebook off the top of the stack and head to the deck with a cup of coffee. Liam left a couple hours ago after he worked out. I worked out after him and when I was done, his car was gone, which I was secretly relieved to see. Don’t get me wrong, I would’ve loved to spend the whole day with him, but that’s sort of my problem, at least it has been in the past.
I go all in on a guy, I fall fast. This time I need to maintain a little bit of personal space. Keep sleeping in my own bed, continue with my plans to get through these notebooks, to scatter Georgia’s ashes, and to be home by June 6th. I flip back the cover and start reading.
December 31, 2020
Happy New Year's Eve. Remember that one year we snuck off to San Francisco to ring it in? I’ll never forget it. I know you can’t be here now, but I wish you were. Rose is coming today. Sandy was here yesterday. I’m really grateful for their support the last six months. I just can’t bring myself to tell the kids still. Their lives are full and successful. I never wanted to be anybody's burden, least of all my kids.
I went to the doctor yesterday. Sandy took me. It spread again. I’m at stage 4 now, and the prognosis isn’t good. I could try to fight it, but I think I’m done. The cure is worse than the disease, and it’s time. I know you won’t want to hear that, but my body can’t take much more of this life. We had some good times, though, some happy memories. I hope that’s what you’ll remember me by, promise me?
I drop my mug on the deck, spilling the hot coffee at my feet. She knew. She knew she had cancer and she kept it from us? I didn’t find out until the week before she died, when she went into hospice. Rose had called, said that it was quick moving, and was taking her fast. But she was all alone? Doing this all alone? The sob that retches from me is guttural. If I thought I’d never forgive myself before, I definitely won’t now. How could I do this? How could I be this selfish not to notice?
I’m bawling and gasping, trying to get control over myself. I have to know. I grab my phone and hover over Liam’s contact. I think about it, and put the phone down. That’s misplaced anger. I’m angry with myself. Even if my gut reaction was, did he know, and never tell me? That’s irrational. How was he going to tell me? He didn’t know anything about me, or how to track me down. And that wasn’t his responsibility.
Don’t blame anyone but yourself, Britain. The words on the page are blurry, but one thing catches my eye. I wipe away the tears with the back of the sweatshirt, pick up the broken mug and go get my keys.
“Hey, sugar! Whoa, baby, you okay?” She’s already moving from out behind the counter towards me. “Was it Liam? I know he’s my son, but I will gladly disown him.” Sandy greets me as I enter the cafe, looking like crap I’m sure, with puffy eyes and a splotchy, red face.
“It’s not Liam, it’s me, I did this.” I hold up the steno pad. “I think you’re right, Sandy. There really is no such thing as chance, is there?” At first she looks a little surprised, then gives me a sympathetic and knowing smile.
“That’s right, baby doll, there isn’t.” I nod my head in agreement as the tears fall silently on to her checkered-linoleum cafe floor. I walk over to the shop section, grabbing a coffee mug to replace the one I just shattered and head Sandy’s direction.
“You came here for just a mug? Or you wanna talk about this?”
“Both,” is my response. I hold up the mug and say, “I shattered one of Liam’s mugs while I was reading Georgia’s notebook.” Probably the last notebook she wrote. That thought unleashes more tears.
“So, I probably need a coffee, too, please,” I say in a half sob, pulling out my credit card to hand to Sandy.
“Baby, your money’s no good here.”
“Please, Sandy. How can I ever repay you?” I’m ugly crying, in her cafe, and I don’t care one bit. I must look like a walking mental breakdown. Fuck, I am a walking mental breakdown. She grabs the mug from my hand, setting it on the counter behind her. She grabs my hand in both of hers and says with tears in her eyes, too, “You be good to William, baby, take care of him. That’s how you repay me.” I nod in response, as I continue to cry my heart out. She takes the notebook that’s tucked under my arm and my cell phone and keys from my other hand, and pulls me into a deep hug.
She releases me when my breathing becomes more even and the sobs subside, giving me a gentle pat on the back.
“Jim!” she yells to the back. I hear him shuffling, moving towards the front.
“Yeah, babe?” Jim asks. I laugh a bit inwardly. I’ve seen pictures of William Sr., and clearly Sandy opted for something much different in her second marriage. William Sr. looked a lot like my Liam — clean cut, clean shaven, sharp lines. Jim is a cowboy, with a permanent set of whiskers, and a soft middle.
“Me and Britain are going for a drink. You man the counter.”
His response is just a, “Yes, ma’am.” It’s pretty early for a drink and I’m not sure where she means for us to go, but I follow her nonetheless. She grabs her jacket and purse from the back, then grabs the coffee mug and ushers me to the Suburban parked on the side of the shop. She motions me to take the passenger side, and I do.
She hops up, maneuvering the behemoth vehicle like she learned how to drive on heavy machinery. We head further up the mountain, and after five minutes, we turn on to a paved private driveway. We pull up to what I’m beginning to believe is her house and I’m in awe. It’s a massive 3-level log cabin, with windows facing the lake. Her house isn’t lakefront, like Liam’s, but she still has an amazing view.
She hops down, and I just keep following her like a lost puppy, which isn’t all that far off from the truth. We step into her house, and it is the consummate mountain home. It’s large enough you could probably even call it a lodge. She calls out from ahead of me, “make yourself at home, baby.”
I’m too busy drooling at the cabin porn in front of me to respond. The house is tastefully done, exactly like something you’d see if you stayed at a fancy ski resort in Park City or Aspen. The only give away that it’s a residence is the family photos. I smile at a toddler Liam, with blonde hair on a tricycle, biggest smile on his face. Gah, it’s making my ovaries ache.
I walk through the great room that has a roaring fire going, and turn towards the kitchen. It’s massive, with two Sub-Zero fridges, four ovens, and an Ilve range. I should know, I have one, too. Sandy and Jim don’t match this house, yet it makes perfect sense how they go together.
“Did Liam grow up in this house?” I ask, a bit loud. I don’t honestly know where Sandy went. She walks out of the walk-in pantry with two rocks glasses filled with pebble ice and a bottle of tequila under her arm. Did we just become best friends?
“He did, but it didn’t look like this until four years ago. It was always this big, but never this grand.” She waves around the glasses to emphasize the beauty of her home.
“Alright, baby,” she says as she pours a generous helping of tequila over the ice. Turning, she opens one of the fridges, pulling out a couple lime wedges. “To Georgia.” She raises her glass and slides me mine, I raise my glass and clink hers, “to Georgia,” I say, and we both take a sip.
She nudges me away from the kitchen bar and into her eat-in, which is a modest word for the size of the space. You could sit 15 in here, comfortably. She plops down in an oversized chair beside the pizza oven and motions for me to sit in the one opposite.
“I didn’t know she was sick for so long before she passed. I only knew the week before she died. You must think I’m an awful daughter, never coming home. Not when she was sick, or in hospice, or even for her funeral. I promise, I feel a thousand times more awful than whatever you think.”
“Well, we’re not gonna be feeling sorry for ourselves right now. You can’t change the past. All we have is right now, today. And sometimes you’ve got tomorrow, but that’s not guaranteed either.” She pauses, swirling the tequila around in her glass. “A little birdy told me you’ve got a new boyfriend.”
“Did they?” I ask. Feeling bashful all of a sudden. “I do,” I say with a slight smile. It feels wrong to find joy after I just found out my mother had cancer for months, suffered alone for months, while I kept living my life. “I am really happy about it — I don’t want you to think that I’m not. I’m just processing this…discovery about Georgia. I came here, home, to get closure, and do the hard work.” I pause, “but it just feels like ripping open old wounds and pouring salt over them.
I’m happy to talk about Liam, but can we talk about her first? What was she like? Really like? I mean I have these notebooks, but I’ve only gotten through an eighth of them. And, well, growing up, Georgia was always there, always present, but not always in it, with me. She never had a lot of personality, or was outgoing around me. But I know she could be that way because anytime I’d meet someone from the office, she would light up and joke and laugh. But then once they left, she was back to just plain Georgia. I mean, I didn’t even know you were friends!” I say, finally relieved to let someone in on the secret of my childhood.
Sandy doesn’t look the least bit surprised, she just says, “You got it, baby.”
She spends the next two hours telling me about Georgia and her antics. She was funny, and full of personality. Sandy met Georiga when she was still William Sr.’s secretary. Sandy originally wanted her fired, citing she was too pretty to work for her husband. But when William refused, Sandy showed up in the office to see what all the fuss was about. After a long lunch, and a couple beers, Georgia and Sandy were “thick as thieves.”
She said there were a lot of years they weren’t always close, especially once Sandy divorced William. It wasn’t due to bad blood, just distance. But they always exchanged birthday cards. That was their thing even in the non-close years.
Once I moved away, they got better acquainted again, spending whole weekends together with bottles of wine and Kevin Costner movies. They’d line dance in this same great room, making Jim move all the furniture.
I knew my mom had Rose, but I’m so fucking glad she had Sandy, too. Sandy sees the tears in my eyes and reaches over to squeeze my hand.
“Thank you, for being with her, and loving her.” I sigh, tears pouring down my face, “And remembering her. Thank you.” I look up to see Sandy has tears flowing down her face now, too.
“It was my joy,” she says, and I know she means it. Our moment is interrupted by the sound of the back door opening and a box being dropped. “Oh, crud muffin!” Sandy and I both look at each other with a little giggle.
“Carly, baby, you want help?” Sandy calls out to the invisible guest.
“No, just trying to do too much. I just came from Liam’s and I’m running a bit behind. Just flustered as usual!”
Carly — well, I’m assuming it’s Carly — rounds the corner wearing a chef’s jacket, jeans, and kitchen clogs.
“Oh, didn’t know you had company Miss Sandy. Sorry!” She waves and moves to walk back to the counter, but Sandy stops her.
“Psh, you know it’s not a problem! Carly, this is Britain, Liam’s girlfriend. Britain, this is Carly, the woman who works wonders in the kitchen.” She leans in, holding a hand over her mouth to faux whisper to me, “And prevented Jim from divorcing me over my lack of kitchen skills.” I giggle.
“Carly, it’s really nice to meet you,” I say to her. She’s a pretty brunette, maybe a bit younger than me.
“So you’re the girlfriend,” she says excitedly towards me. “I’m so glad I’m getting to meet you! We’ll have to swap numbers so if you have any preferences or allergies, you can just let me know! Like, were last week's meals okay? Style-wise I tend to lean ‘low carb, high protein’ with his diet.”
She’s asking me about last week's meals, but I’m a bit confused. It must show on my face, because she says, “Sorry, I just assumed you were the one eating with him. He’s never asked me to cook for two before, well, until last week, and then here you are. Oh shoot,” she says. She’s worried she misspoke.
The warmth in my belly is growing. It’s that old familiar feeling, but the happy one. I just smile and say, “I, um, didn’t eat what you cooked last week, but I will definitely let you know in the future.” I give her a warm smile, hoping she knows she didn’t do anything wrong. It was me, again. She returns my smile and says, “Okay!” Then walks with purpose back to the kitchen to start prepping.
I look over to Sandy who’s looking at me with a shit-eating grin. “Ooh baby, I knew I liked you! Giving him a run for his money?” She smacks my leg, making me blush.
“Maybe,” I say. “He called you this morning to tell you I was his girlfriend?” I just can’t imagine Liam being a momma’s boy, still.
“He dropped it nonchalantly. But yes, I speak male. He called to let me know.” Her demeanor is all-knowing, and I’m 100% buying it. She knows everything.
“You know, he really likes you, babe. I won’t get involved because y'all are adults and life is messy, but try to take care of my baby, k?”
“I’ll try.” That’s all I can do. “So, wait, if you don’t bake the bread and the stuff at the shop, is that Carly, too?” I ask Sandy.
“Nope, that’s Jim, baby.” Of course it is.