6. Take Me to the River
6
TAKE ME TO THE RIVER
ALEX YURKIV & THELMA COSTOLO
“I love it!” Georgia said, clapping her hands and leaning closer to Ginny’s computer screen. “It’s absolutely perfect.”
“Really?” Ginny felt relief wash over her. She’d worked night and day on the perfect design for Sugartree’s new logo. After several iterations of using muted colors, various flowers and new catch phrases, she’d eventually settled on the simplest design. One with simple lines in black and white, showcasing a small corner store and trees lining the quaint streets it was nestled on. It’d made her think of the old train station turned coffee shop where her parents had decided to spend their retirement years running Good Start and pouring into the community they’d called home for over ten years.
“Yes, really! It’s elegant, but simple. And Home Sweet Home …” The phrase she’d framed the image with. “I think the town will love it. I’m so proud of you, Virginia.”
Ginny beamed under her praise and accepted her sister’s embrace and cheek kiss with the warmest of welcomes. Georgia had always been the only one of her siblings, every once and a while, to ever refer to her as Virginia. Maybe it was the motherly instinct in her as the eldest of their group, but Ginny felt like, at that moment, Georgia saw her not as a baby sister, but as an equal.
“Thank you.” Ginny bit her lip. “I also kinda made one for Good Start. Think you might help me get Mama and Daddy on board with a little rebrand for the shop?”
She clicked a few times on the keyboard and brought up the new logo she’d created for their family coffee shop. Another simple design, but one she was equally proud of.
“Absolutely, I will. This is lovely. They will totally want to use it.” Georgia sighed and sipped her coffee, eyeing Ginny over the rim of her mug. “Now, business is over. No more shop talk. Tell me about your life.”
“You already know everything, Georgie.”
“No, I don’t.” Her sister waved her hand at Ginny, then tore a croissant in half, tossing a piece in her mouth. “Since football started, I feel like I only see ya at practice, and then you scurry off as soon as we’re done. You should come out with us to eat tonight. Mama and the Colonel are watching Davey. We could karaoke or hit the diner here in Honey Hill.”
Georgia wiggled her eyebrows, as if she knew her sister couldn’t resist the offer.
“Who else will be there?” Ginny asked, running her finger over the rim of her empty mug.
“The whole crew. You, me, Lake, Caroline and Griff, Blaire and Evan, and Ryan, I’m sure. Probably some of the others from the team.”
Ginny winced.
Since they’d started football practice, Ryan always seemed to be in a mood. He grumbled and blew his whistle more times than she could count. And, most saddening, he’d been wearing black ankle socks for every single practice as of late. A detail Ginny had mentioned once, only to receive a flare of his green eyes and a quietly growled, “I own other socks, Ginny,” before he’d stomped onto the field.
She didn’t know whether it was Blaire’s sideline-coaching over his head like a backseat driver…
Or the newest alumni group who’d graduated the year before—and who definitely looked at the Homecoming flag football game as an opportunity to rekindle some sort of romance between at least two of the couples, rather than the very serious business of winning said football game for guts and glory…
Or maybe the many times Mr. Woodhouse and Mr. Emmerson, both of whom had zero business playing flag football at their ages, commented on their various aches and pains. Ones their extremely vocal wives were all too willing to nag them over from the sidelines, right next to Blaire…
But the most likely culprit for Ryan’s less than delightful attitude was Ginny herself. He blatantly avoided her before and after practice, only addressing her when she was on the field—as if he’d given himself permission to do so only once her title as quarterback was in play—always approaching her with hands in his pockets and a grim look of distaste on his face.
“I don’t think I should go. I have a few other jobs to do for clients.”
Georgia rolled her eyes. “Gin,” she took another bite of croissant and pushed it into her cheek, “I know you’re avoiding Ryan.”
Ginny scoffed and blew out a puff of air. “What? Don’t be crazy… That’s absurd. I would never…”
“Right. Very convincing.” Georgia wiped the crumbs from her hands and put both elbows on the table, something their mother would nip in the bud immediately. Ginny thought briefly about video calling her right then to avoid the onslaught of questioning from her sister, who was looking an awful lot like Joan Remillard in that moment. “Listen, I think it's time we talk this out. I know you feel… well, some kinda way about him. Just talk to me.”
Ginny pulled her hair up, wrapping it quickly in her scrunchie, and slouched back in her chair to sulk. “I like him,” she admitted.
“Obviously.”
“No, Georgie. I like him. I probably could love him if he wasn’t too stubborn to admit he feels the same way.”
“You. Love. Ryan,” she repeated, shoving the remainder of the piece of bread she’d been nursing into her mouth.
“I said I could … Georgia.”
Georgia waved her off. “Semantics.”
“No. Two totally different verbs. One is certain. One only has potential.”
Her sister smiled brightly. Too brightly. “We can work with potential, Gin. How long?”
“How long will I regret admitting this to you?”
Georgia flicked her straw paper at her, landing it on top of the most mouth-watering hollandaise sauce Ginny had ever tasted. She’d planned to lick the plate clean as soon as she got out of this conversation with Georgia.
“Hey!” Ginny picked up the paper and put it on a napkin. “Rude.”
Georgia merely raised her eyebrows, looking exactly like Joan Remillard when she intended to silently scare her children into submission.
Ginny sighed and leaned back in her chair. “Do you remember that summer before you and Lake got together? You and Blaire were deep in a High School Musical marathon and kept making Ryan rewatch your favorite songs?”
Georgia nodded with a twinkle in her eye. “Ha! It’s been too long since we’ve done that. He hates it so much.”
“Yes. He definitely does. But he loves you guys, and he’d do anything for you. I remember when y’all invited Caroline and let me come for the third one—”
“Because you were gonna be a senior! Awww… baby Ginny.”
“Focus, Georgia. I’m grown-up Virginia. Sitting right here,” Ginny said, pointing at herself and losing steam. “Anyways, during that whole movie… and every replay… Ryan was always looking at Caroline. He just studied every move she made, ya know? And I swear, I wasn’t jealous or anything, Georgia… I just… I kind of just dreamt—in that way all teenagers dream—about a guy looking at me that way. I didn’t necessarily want it to be him… just someone.”
“You went on so many dates that year,” her sister said, as if she could pinpoint the stage of Ginny’s life she was least proud of.
“I did. I wanted… I don’t know… attention. Distraction. It wasn’t healthy, but it's just who I was.”
“It’s not who you are now,” Georgia said plainly, and Ginny felt so seen by her sister. So understood.
“No, it’s not. That spring I encountered Christ in a way that made me feel… full… Like, His love was so fulfilling—so completely sufficient—I stopped feeling as if I needed attention or a false perception of love from anyone else.”
“That’s amazing, Gin.” Georgia wiped moisture from her eye. “I’ve loved seeing you mature and grow over the past few years. We’ve all noticed it, ya know? You’re an incredible, Christ-centered woman, Ginny.”
“Thanks, Georgia.” Ginny flitted her eyes, holding back tears.
Georgia leaned over the table. “But where does Ryan fit into all of this? When did you get the actual hots for him?”
Ginny rolled her eyes, all semblance of tears gone, and released an astonished laugh. Her sister had a one track mind.
“That next summer. Before I went to school. We’d spent a lot of time together, with you guys of course, and he’s always so fun and up for whatever you and Blaire put him through. He’s a great friend, ya know? He never seemed to mind me around… and he made me feel like I was one of you.”
“You are.”
“You know what I mean. It was always you three, and sometimes Caroline, but… one day I was waiting for worship to start at service and Ryan was leading for the first time. He stood on stage and was so bold and confident. Not at all the goofy friend to Blaire and Georgia.” Ginny smiled just remembering how he’d looked that day. Like a completely different person to the guy she’d watched grow up. “He spoke about worship and focusing on how Jesus has already done the best thing He possibly could for us, dying on the cross. That He alone is worthy of praise.”
She paused, not quite believing how much she was revealing to her big sister. “Georgia, when he closed his eyes and lifted his voice it was as if all of a sudden… Ryan was just a man… in my eyes. He wasn’t your best friend or the guy who spent half his time crushing on Caroline or wearin’ footy pajamas every time you guys had a movie night or nudging your baby sister’s shoulder to make her feel like she was in on one of your inside jokes. He was a man so in love with Jesus it shone through every facet of his face. I was just… entranced.”
“You fell in love with his heart.”
Ginny wished she felt more bashful, but loved the honesty in how those words sounded. She sighed. “Yeah. I did.”
Georgia took her hand in hers, resting them on the table. “He’s your Laurie. ”
Ginny whipped her hand away, groaning. “I just knew you were going to turn this into a Little Women thing! He is not my Laurie.”
“He is, Gin. And you are the grown, sophisticated Amy he hasn’t let himself see yet.”
“Oh, he sees me. He just won’t admit it.”
Georgia agreed. “Yeah, he does. I’ve noticed it too, ya know. He’s always peacocking around every time a guy looks in your direction.”
“Peacocking?”
“Yeah.” Georgia smirked and sipped from her coffee mug. “He gets all territorial and stands a little taller, strutting around, wavin’ his I’m secretly SOOOO into her feathers. Peacocking.”
“Hmmmm,” Ginny hummed. “Peacocking, yet he’s totally contradictory when he’s forced to have a one-on-one conversation with me.”
“Give it time, Ginny. Ryan doesn’t stand a chance. Not against you.”
Ginny shook her head with exasperation and slipped her finger across the tantalizing hollandaise, popping it in her mouth. “You’re such a Meg…”
“I totally am.” Georgia bit her lip and nodded her head so rapidly, her curls fell loose from the top knot they’d been tied in. “I’m a happily married, contented Meg, and I’m gonna help you get your Laurie.”
“Please don’t.”
“It’s done, Baby Girl—I mean, Virginia.” She grabbed Ginny’s hand again and grew serious. “And Gin?”
“Hm?” Ginny hummed.
“I’m so proud of the woman that you have become. The woman you are today. You may not need Ryan’s love, but he’d be so very lucky to have yours.”
“Thanks, Georgie.”
Her sister picked their hands up off the table, kissed Ginny’s with a dramatic flair, and dropped them like a stack of books. “Now, let’s talk about what song you could sing at karaoke night to make Ryan lose his mind just a little bit.”
“You’ve gotta make sure you’re blockin’ Ginny the whole time!” Ryan yelled, after blowing his whistle for the hundredth time that night.
Mr. Woodhouse put his shaky hands in the air. “Son, I’m seventy-five years old. I’m lucky I’m standing upright, much less guarding a young woman from approachin’ defense.”
“Ya need to stay on her, Clyde!” Mrs. Woodhouse hollered at her husband. “Those youngins are getting the best of ya, and the coach is stressed about that beauty, Virginia. He can’t take his eyes off her. You shouldn’t either!”
Half the team giggled, but Ginny looked to the flustered, very non-amused man holding the whistle, who made it his mission to give directions to Ginny at practice without ever looking at her directly.
Sloan, one of Ryan and Caroline’s co-workers at Sugartree Elementary, and a fellow alumna, gave the elderly man a rub on his back. “You’re doin’ just fine, Mr. Woodhouse. Ryan’s just concerned. That’s all.”
“Yeah, I’m concerned. She’s gonna get crushed!” Ryan argued. “Maybe I should move Lake and Griff to linemen…”
Caroline put her hands on her hips and blew her hair from her eyes. “It’s flag football, Coach,” she snipped. “She’ll be fine. You’re bein’ an overbearin’ ninny.”
“You say that until she isn’t okay. She’ll get run over.” Ryan adjusted his Sugartree baseball hat, flipping it backwards—for goodness’ sakes—and looked at Ginny for the first time that night. With accusation in his eyes, Ryan pointed his finger at her. “You need to get rid of the ball faster. They can’t defend you forever.”
Ginny blew out a frustrated breath and used all her annoyance to throw the ball as hard as she could at Ryan. A perfect spiral right into his chest. “That fast enough for ya, Coach?”
He stumbled back, coughing and providing Ginny no small pleasure at his response. Lake turned to her and offered a silent fist bump.
“Oooooo weeeeee!” Blaire yelled from the sidelines into the megaphone she’d had glued to her hands at every practice. “Did y’all all see that?!”
Evan chuckled at his wife, but Ryan glared at her, rubbing his chest.
“You alright, son?” Mr. Woodhouse asked, putting a hand on Ryan’s shoulder. “That Virginia has quite the arm on her. She’s somethin’ else.”
“Umm… yeah, she sure is,” Ryan coughed again and let his eyes dart to Ginny’s before regrouping. “That’ll be fine, Gin. Line it up again, y’all. Woodhouse. Lake. You’re on the line. Sloan you’re center, and then you’re on your sister, alright?” He pointed at Sloan’s twin, Shane, who had been playing defense all night and was much more aggressive than her mild-mannered sister. “The rest of y’all get open, and Ginny, get rid of the dang ball.”
He blew the whistle again and the team lined up.
“He’s mad with power,” Ginny whispered, earning snickers from the others.
Chloe, who’d jumped right into the football fray after closing up Good Start for the night, whispered at Ginny’s side, “Is it weird that I’m kinda into it? He’s like a hot Gordon Bombay.”
Ginny giggled, though she felt a twinge of discomfort pass over her. “Like, from The Mighty Ducks? ”
“Oh yeah,” Chloe said appreciatively. “I wonder what he’d do if we all started quacking.”
“Ten bucks says he joins in,” Shane whispered, hunched in front of Ginny, ready to attack.
Sloane, ready to hike the ball, laughed quietly. “No way.”
Three voices down the line, clearly belonging to the Lovett brothers, started chanting, “Quack. Quack. Quack.”
Ryan growled and blew his whistle again. “Seriously, y’all.”
“Sorry coach,” Evan murmured as his younger brothers giggled like misbehaving school girls.
Ginny smirked at Ryan, all sweaty and agitated and definitely—as Chloe so eloquently put it—kinda hot. More than kinda . “I think I'm gonna hide his whistle.”
“I can hear you, Remillard,” Ryan yelled.
“I wasn’t tryin’ to hide it, Hood,” Ginny sing-songed right before she screamed the call, “ Peaches28. Peaches28. Set, hut!”
She danced in her box, steering clear of Shane, who had fire in her eyes every time she rushed Ginny but was impressively held off by her sister. Ginny waited for the perfect moment when Georgia ran the play and got open, ready for a flawless spiral thrown to her thirty yards out. Georgia ran for the touchdown, earning the cheers of the whole team and the few spectators watching practice.
Ryan looked surprisingly pleased and called the team into a huddle at the sidelines. “Alright, good work, y’all. I think that’s as good a place as any to end it for the night. I’ll see y’all back here next week and we’ll work on alternates. Have a good one—”
Blaire cleared her throat in the megaphone, “Ahem.”
Ryan rolled his eyes. “And we’re goin’ to karaoke after this if any of y’all wanna join.”
“It’s too late for my blood, son.” Mr. Woodhouse chuckled and slapped Mr. Emmerson on his back. “How ‘bout you, Lloyd?
“Not me either. The wife loves to watch me play.” The elderly man’s face lit with pride. “I gotta capitalize while the fire’s cookin’, ya know what I mean?”
Ginny snickered with the other girls and Ryan cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah. We get it, Emmerson. Enjoy… your, um… night.”
“I have to open the store tomorrow morning, so I can’t be out late tonight,” Chloe pouted, obviously bummed. Her cheeks were tinged with a lovely rose and the braid she’d had her dark hair in was only slightly windswept. “Maybe next time.”
Chloe’s eyes flicked to Ryan with interest, and Ginny looked at the ground to avoid seeing whether he responded in kind.
She’d never been one prone to jealousy or comparison, but there on the field—her Georgia Southern University tee drenched in sweat, neon yellow socks pulled high up her calves and her hair in what could only be called a curly bees’ nest barely hanging in the scrunchie she’d pulled it up in—Ginny felt less than appealing. She probably looked more like her toddler niece after Davey ran through the mud on a rainy day rather than the woman she hoped Ryan would begin to see her as.
“Hands in,” Caroline said sweetly, putting her hand out, manicured fingers wiggling in the empty space. Shooting an inviting wink at her younger sister, Caroline shook Ginny from her momentary self-assessment. “Hey QB, why don’t you lead us out?”
Ginny smacked her hand on top of Caroline’s and the rest of the team followed.
She decided then and there that she wouldn’t compare herself to anyone. Ginny was proud of who she was. The quarterback of this team. A competitive, sweaty Remillard with a bit of extra fire in her spirit. A strong and sassy woman with a big, fat unrequited crush on her sisters’ best friend.
She was a Duck!
“ Ducks fly together , on three!” Ginny shouted, earning the cheers of all but Ryan, who groaned at her side. Which, frankly, did nothing to dissipate the near constant appeal of ruffling his feathers.
The team yelled their new fight song, “Ducks fly together!” And then the crowd slowly dispersed, leaving only the karaoke group on the field.
“We’re gonna have to meet y’all there,” Caroline said, winking at Ginny again as she spoke. Maybe she had something in her eye. She gestured to Lake and Georgia. “We all rode together.”
“But I rode with you guys, too,” Ginny said, throwing her hands on her hips.
“Sorry, Gin. Car’s full.” Georgia shrugged, but looked far too pleased with the dilemma. She glared at Blaire, sending some sort of telepathic, best friend message with only her eyes.
Blaire pouted out her lip for all of three seconds, but turned her frown upside down into a clown-like, stage smile and announced, “Oh yeah, us too.” She rubbed her hands along her lower belly and raised her eyebrows at Shane and Sloane and her husband, who definitely did not seem as if they’d been aware of their carpooling situation. “Ry, you drove right?”
“Um, yeah.” Ryan adjusted his hat and scratched at the five o’clock shadow along his jaw. “I… I guess I can give you a ride, Gin. If you need one?”
Griffin slapped Ryan hard on the back and left his hand on his upper shoulder. Ginny watched as Griffin’s knuckles changed from red to white in a matter of seconds as he clenched his hand tight to Ryan’s collar. Like a big brother mood ring. It was awesome. “Thanks for stepping up, man. Keep her safe, alright?”
Ryan seethed and nodded his head. “Will do. We’ll meet y’all there. Ginny, you ready?”
“Uh, yeah,” Ginny replied, slightly embarrassed by his obvious displeasure at being her chauffeur. “Thanks.”
Georgia clapped. “Great! We’ll just see y’all in a bit.”