Chapter 20 Georgia
Twenty
Georgia
I don’t see Benny all day at the fair, and part of me is glad. The feelings he’s stirred up in me are powerful, and they’ve
changed me so much, in such a short time. But it’s been nice to just have this time with Eden and Daisy. We’ve all been so
busy—and caught in our own romantic disasters—that I’ve been missing the coziness of the three of us hanging out.
We’re all happy, tired, and full of festival food by the time we pile back into the car to go watch the fireworks on the beach.
Eden cranks up the radio, singing along. When I glimpse back in the rearview mirror, I see Daisy and Owen holding hands, and
I smile to myself.
But there’s a pang in my chest, too; I always thought I was the sister who knew all about love. I was the one in the serious relationship that was going places. I’d found my “forever person.” Or that’s what I’d thought. That my love story with Rhys was just like Mom’s love story with Dad.
Now it seems like maybe I never knew much about love at all.
And seeing how sweetly content Daisy looks right now makes me wonder if I should’ve let myself start making mistakes sooner.
I think I have a lot of catching up to do.
We pull into the beach lot and snag one of the last remaining spots. Soon, people will be lining up along the street, leaving
their cars on the side of the road and walking the rest of the way, blankets and picnic baskets in hand.
Mom and Dave are already here and have claimed a nice open area on the sand with a couple of blankets and beach chairs, a
basket of sandwiches, and bottles of sparkling cider.
“You kids look sunburned!” Dave says by way of a greeting as Daisy, Eden, and Owen plop onto the extra chairs.
“I’m gonna get us some waters from the snack shack,” I say, not ready to sit yet.
“I’ll come with you,” Mom says, standing up and brushing off her shorts.
We kick off our sandals and navigate the crowded beach barefoot, stepping carefully over the latticework of blankets and bags,
shoes and outstretched legs. When we get to the snack shack line, snaking down practically to the lake’s edge, we stand quietly
for a minute.
“Georgia,” Mom says, breaking our silence.
“I want you to know how much I appreciate your help this summer. You’ve been handling everyone’s schedules while I hole up in my writing studio.
Dave and I have both been blissfully oblivious to the rest of the world, and you’ve made sure you and the girls get where you all need to go. I’m so lucky to have you.”
I sigh. “It’s— Yeah. No problem. How’s the book coming along?”
My mom shrugs. “Really well, I think. You know, there’s a lot of painful stuff that’s come up for me, being back here. It’s
been good, though, to have a way to process it all.”
I look at her in surprise. “The book is set at the lake?”
Mom nods. “Oh yeah, I didn’t tell you that? It’s based on my childhood, coming here every summer.”
“Wow,” I say, realizing I really had no idea—or even any curiosity about—what she was working on until now. “Sounds cathartic.”
“It is,” she says. “I think it’s going to be a beautiful book. But it’s difficult, too. As, you know, most beautiful things
are.”
I nod. “Have you . . .” I feel my voice getting tight in my throat. “Have you been thinking a lot about Dad while we’ve been
up here? Or . . .”
“Oh, honey, of course I have. Every day. I think about him here, and at home. I don’t believe that ever goes away.”
I remember what Daisy said this morning. How it’s possible to hold love and grief at the same time.
“Mom, I’m sorry I burst out of the house the other day. I’m . . . It’s been hard to see how happy you are with Dave. I want that for you, but . . . are you sure you’re ready?” I wipe a tear from the corner of my eye.
Mom wraps an arm around me. “I’m ready, Georgia. But it’s okay if you aren’t yet. You know, I was a little nervous to tell
you.”
“Really?”
Mom laughs. “It sounds silly, but I really wanted your blessing. With Nana and Gramps gone, all I’ve got is you girls. I knew
Daisy would be fine with it, but it was your opinion I cared most about. You’re so smart. You read people so well. And I know
you’re always looking out for us, for me.”
“Mom,” I say, trying not to cry. “I don’t think I’m a very good judge of character after all.” The tears come, despite my
best efforts.
“Oh, Georgia.” She hugs me. “Do you mean Rhys?”
I nod. “That and—everything?”
She sighs. “I don’t think you judged him wrong. I think you loved him. I think he was right for you, these past few years.
You needed him. And now, maybe you’re just ready for something different.”
It feels like such a relief to hear her say that. Like maybe my entire relationship wasn’t a mistake, wasn’t a lie. It was
just—not meant to be forever.
Maybe we can’t know what is.
We’re up next in line, and Mom buys our water bottles. She hands one to me. “Here, you need to hydrate,” she says. “You need
water, and you need rest, and you know what, Georgia, honey? You need to give yourself a break now and again.”
I nod, my throat still feeling tight. I unscrew the water cap and drink it gratefully. As its coolness rushes down my throat, I remember what it feels like to just give your body what it needs. Just that refreshing, calming reminder helps me feel centered again.
And that’s when I see Benny.
“Mom,” I tell her. “I’ll meet you back at the blanket in a few minutes.”
“Sounds good. Love you, Georgia.”
“Love you, too. And Mom? I really am. Happy for you. For what it’s worth, you do have my blessing.”
She laughs, but her eyes glitter with emotion. “Thank you,” she whispers.
Benny cocks his head and grins when he sees me walking toward him through the crowd—which makes me smile, too. He’s standing
in the wet sand, a few steps into the water, letting it lap around his bare ankles, and behind him, the sunset is making the
lake a cotton-candy pink.
I stop when I reach the lip of the water, but he gestures for me to come in, and even though there’s no swimming allowed during
the fireworks, I walk in to meet him anyway. We’re only like six inches deep. So what if we get in trouble? Maybe I’m okay
with getting in trouble occasionally.
Sometimes it’s worth it.
His smile grows—he can totally read me. He probably knows I’m debating the level of lakeside infraction we’re committing.
He reaches up and gently touches my cheek with his thumb. “You got too much sun.”
I shake my head. “I forgot to reapply.”
“That’s not like you,” he says quietly, studying my face.
“I know,” I say. “I was too focused on having fun.”
He smiles even bigger, if that’s possible. “I’m glad to hear that. I’m glad I found you. I wanted to see you earlier, but
Lita hurt her hip and I’ve been helping her around the house. She wanted to come see the fireworks, but I thought walking
on the sand might be too hard. So she’s at home, watching from a window.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I say. “It’s really sweet that you’re here this summer to help take care of her, though.” It occurs
to me that I don’t even know where his parents are, why he’s spending this summer just with his grandmother.
There’s so much I don’t know about him. So much I want to learn.
And yet.
“Benny,” I say. “I’ve been thinking about this. Us. I really like spending time with you.”
“Me too,” he whispers.
“But I need to take things slow. I’m not ready to get into anything serious right now. I need to figure out my whole life,
my future. I think I should apply for a college transfer, see if I can switch schools next year or even spring semester. I
want to think about where I’d actually want to go, if I hadn’t based my decision on Rhys.”
I was afraid Benny would be hurt, but he looks genuinely excited for me. “Georgia, that’s great,” he says. “I know you’ll figure it all out in time. But it doesn’t all have to be decided in the next few weeks, right?”
I laugh. “I guess not. But you know me. I like to get ahead on the planning.”
“Yes,” he laughs. “You certainly do. And listen. About us. Obviously, I still have a year of high school left. I don’t expect
anything beyond the summer. It’s like I said on the dock the other night; I’m just happy to have this time with you. I’m happy
to live in the present.”
“Live in the present. That sounds really nice,” I say. “A little terrifying, but really nice.”
The sunset has deepened to a burning, fiery red, outlined in charcoal. Soon, the light will disappear behind the distant shore,
and the fireworks will begin.
“Do you want to come sit with us to watch the fireworks?” I ask him. “Or do you need to get back to your grandma?”
His smile falters. “I should probably get back before it’s totally dark. I want to make sure she’s comfortable.”
“Of course! Will I see you in the morning? Your training isn’t complete, you know.”
He laughs. “I’ll be there.”
He leans in and kisses my cheek. “I hope that didn’t hurt your sunburn.”
“It didn’t,” I whisper. I want nothing more than to pull him in and kiss him, but with all these people around, I’m too shy to do it. “See you tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow,” he whispers, close to my ear.
And then he walks out of the water, disappearing in the crowd.
It’s almost entirely dark by the time I make my way back to our picnic spot.
“Don’t knock over my sparkling cider,” Daisy says. “It was the last pour!”
“You guys finished it all already?! I was gone for like ten minutes!” I say, stepping carefully across Daisy’s chair to take
a seat between her and Eden.
“You can have mine,” Eden says, handing me her cup. “I already have to pee so bad it’s a literal nightmare.”
I laugh, accepting her cup. “When will you ever learn?”
She smiles at me in the darkness. “Probably never?”
“They’re starting!” Daisy says.
And sure enough, as I look up, I see the first bursts of fireworks lighting up the sky in white and royal blue and gold, leaving
a smoky halo.
Everyone starts oohing and aahing, just like you’re supposed to, scrambling to take pictures.
I watch a few more explosions of light, noticing the way the smoke curls in the air afterward.
It’s probably a terrible source of pollution, but it makes me think about how our lives are a little bit like the sky, full of the fading smoke of all the things that once lit us up but are now over.
Life itself is fleeting. Love is fleeting.
You never know what’s going to last, what you’re going to have forever, and what’s going to fade and disappear.
I look at Daisy and then at Eden, their faces silhouetted in the changing colors lighting up the black sky. Two faces I know
as well as my own. And I feel this swell of immense peace. I think about pulling out my phone to get a cute selfie of the
three of us together—the Holliday girls on one of their favorite holidays—but decide I don’t need to document this moment.
I’m going to just live in the present, and see what happens next.