Chapter 73 Georgia
Georgia
Eddie and I are the only people over the age of fifteen in the arcade, but it doesn’t bother us one bit. We stopped first
for a large bag of popcorn before strolling through the aisles of games, assessing which of the offerings are new and which
are unchanged. I didn’t mention it to the ladies earlier, but this was what helped me get through the apology tour with Misty,
the promise of this evening’s date.
We used to come here, to this arcade, when we were kids—before we even knew each other, while we were friends, and after.
It’s strange to be back here with Eddie, but at the same time something about this place feels outside all that. Like the
stuffed animal you carry through life, until you put it in a box marked Special! Do not toss! Even when life inevitably changes around it, it’s reliably the same.
“Pac-Man?” Eddie asks as we stand shoulder to shoulder at the machines with rolling neon lights and computerized blips and beeps.
“Why else would we be here?”
“Just checking,” he says with a wink.
Of course I remembered.
Eddie stretches his hands one finger at a time, then shakes himself as he approaches the machine. I catch a glimpse of the
curve of his lower back as his T-shirt lifts and drops. He’s softer than he used to be, loosened from the natural athletic
tightness of youth, but it stirs something in me. I can’t pin it down, but like the rest of him, it has aged well.
“Don’t eat all the popcorn.” He turns and settles his gaze on the machine before hitting the start button.
“No promises.” I pop a few kernels in my mouth.
I cheer for Eddie as he racks up points, and I quietly enjoy the concentration furrow that settles between his brows. Much
like me, he takes most endeavors seriously—on occasion a bit too seriously. I call out encouragements and clap, but eventually he runs out of lives and Game Over scrolls across the screen.
Eddie spins around and lets out a breath. He catches my eye as he steps aside and holds out a hand. “My lady?”
I glance down at the popcorn in my hand, considering whether I want to hand it off.
Eddie takes a step closer. “I will promise not to eat all of your popcorn.”
I look up at him and grin. “You really are too good to me.” I reach up and set a tiny kiss on his nose as I transfer the bag
to his hands.
He shrugs. “If those are part of it, I have to say I’m more than happy with this arrangement.”
I dust off my hands on my jeans and prepare to start the game. Less seriously than Eddie, I jump right in and hit the button
to begin. I do my best, but I look back over my shoulder at Eddie. “You made this look easy. I’m so rusty.”
“Hey now, eyes on the road, miss.”
I laugh as I sling the ill-fated Pac-Man around the screen, and then Eddie slides in behind me. “Help?” he whispers beside
my ear.
I nod as the rest of me shivers.
Eddie’s hands slip around mine, his head set atop my shoulder as he navigates the Pac-Man toward the pellets of food. I don’t
really try—with the game—because the man wrapped around me is too distracting. The warmth of him so close is something I thought
was forever lost to me, so I revel in it. Pac-Man be damned.
Before long the game ends.
When I expect Eddie to step back to release me from the small gap between him and the machine, he doesn’t. It magnifies the
feeling of him and his sturdy arms around me. I turn and shoot him a grin smooshed right there between him and the video game.
I run a hand up his neck into the back of his hair.
Eddie leans down and dots kisses from my collarbone up along my neck, sending me into a full-body shiver. When he gets to
my ear, he stops and whispers, “Looks like my plan worked.”
Surely his plan doesn’t stop at the little pecks, and in that moment I’m not sure I care what was or was not his plan. I close
my eyes and pull him to me and into a deep kiss. We stay there, and I wish we were somewhere less public.
Eventually I pull back, and when I open my eyes, he’s grinning.
“Yup. That was the rest of the plan.”
I laugh as I swat him playfully, and we break apart.
Eddie snatches the popcorn from a table behind us and hands it to me. “Want to grab a drink too? We can let some of the kids
get a chance on this.”
“Perfect,” I say and begin in the direction of the refreshments counter.
We order two sodas that come out quickly and pay.
“Want to sit for a minute?” I ask, nodding down at the popcorn and drinks between us.
“Probably for the best,” Eddie says. “I’m not sure many of these games can be operated with the forehead.”
We head to a high-top off to the side and slide onto tall stools. I set the popcorn between us, and we sip our icy drinks.
“So how’s that firecracker of a sister of yours?” Eddie asks.
“A little better today, I think—hope. She’s got another scan later this week to check on the status of things.”
Junie has been struggling over the past week or so since our big hurrah over practically closing the fundraising goal. She
had another chemo treatment, and it knocked her down like she hasn’t ever been before. The pain in her bones has increased,
and her appetite is down. The doctor prescribed her a serious painkiller. She tries to keep from taking it, but she needs
it. She wears her wig less frequently, opting for the rainbow-striped beanie. She’s even asked me to check on her garden and
weed it for her.
It’s the reason for the gaps between Eddie and me getting one-on-one time together—I don’t want to leave her. Of course, in
true Eddie Rigsby fashion, he understands and checks in. Dropped off an obscenely large batch of Twizzlers the other day.
The worst days are those when she won’t even munch on one of her happy sticks.
At least she still laughs when I make that joke for her benefit.
“This type of treatment is brutal,” Eddie says. “So what about you? I figure you’re sticking around for her treatment . . .
at least?” His eyes linger in a hopeful way, and I wonder the same for him—if or when he’ll go back.
“Can I tell you something?” I ask, knowing very well I might be undoing this lovely date.
“Uh, sure. I mean, unless you’re giving a critique of my personality. Or of my fitness level—it’s been tough without a gym
membership here.”
I laugh. “No, none of those. Actually . . . it’s that I’m moving here permanently. Once we find a good day, Cece and I are
going to go pack up what I’ve got in Atlanta and move me into the Clementine.”
Eddie’s eyes shoot wide. “Wow. Good for you. I mean—it is good, right? Hopefully you’re not feeling family pressure to do so.”
I slip a popcorn kernel into my mouth and chew in silence, allowing myself a beat. “It’s definitely good. Eddie, I lied to
them and everyone here about my work. I had a decent job that I was alright at, but I didn’t have oodles of success or anything.
Also, I have to return this car I can certainly no longer afford to lease.”
His eyes crease in confusion. “What do you mean? Do they know?”
I sigh. “I wanted to be who I thought they wanted me to be when they just wanted me to be happy. I know it sounds like a riddle,
and it definitely felt like one living it all those years. But we’re finally talking—since I’ve been home.”
“So you pretended to have a high-paying job all to make your family happy?”
I shrug. “Can you believe how awful I am?” The question is not entirely serious when I say it, but it allows the option of
him agreeing wholeheartedly. “I put all my money into that car, all so they could think I had a life I didn’t. You remember—they
put me on this pedestal, ‘Whitetail Local Defying the Odds,’ and I didn’t know what to do when it didn’t work out.”
“Plus the name,” Eddie says. He’s well aware of the drama—aside from the latest details Cece shared.
I nod. “I’m really sorry. Because I lied to you about this too, even if it’s only been for a handful of weeks now. I’ve been
letting you believe it.”
He smiles back tentatively. “The pressure of the Louise family is like a force of nature. I’m glad you finally surfaced. Found
your way out.”
“So you’re not walking out on this date?”
“Not even close.”
There’s a moment between us where our eyes linger. I’ve put this first issue out there, and in the quiet between us, I wonder if we’re both thinking about the other issue. The much larger one from all those years ago.
“I guess while I’m at it, I should keep going. I’m also sorry for everything that happened before. You were right not to take
my calls back in college.” I glance away. This is the real meat of what stands between us.
But I don’t want to let this wait. I want this resolved, us agreeing to move past it. Because if we can’t, and us dating is
only a bit of fun to him, I don’t want to delay the heartbreak that would be mounting. The longer we wait to call it quits,
the more it’ll hurt.
Eddie sighs as he wipes his hands on the flimsy napkin from the dispenser on the tabletop. “I was hurt. Really. It messed
me up for a while, and I struggled to date—”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t—”
“Georgia.” Eddie’s eyes are kind but firm when I look up and meet them. “Wait for the but.”
I nod once and listen.
“But—seeing you here over the last few weeks, with your family, and coming back here myself . . . It’s just highlighted how much
time has passed, how you’ve changed and how I’ve changed. Neither of us is who we were at nineteen years old . . . Thank God. We’ve got perspective.”
I let out a breath. “I’m not sure I’d recognize that me.”
“Eh, I wouldn’t go too far.” Eddie gently reaches over the table, places his finger under my chin, and tips my head up so
we’re eye to eye. “There’s still a lot of the best parts of you left. And now that I’ve had a front row seat to y’all saving
June’s, I think I finally understand. What it means for you—and the rest of your Louises—to show up for each other, to do
right by each other. Enough to make yourself someone entirely unrecognizable if it fills a void for another.”
“It’s love, but it’s like a fine chain that knots and clumps so easily.”
Eddie nods. “I knew you felt bad, wanted to take it back and all that. But the way you know how to love someone? It’s remarkable. It’s like no other person I’ve met.”
I smile tentatively. “And it’s just like you to see something beautiful in the middle of a big old mess.”
He leans in. “It’s so easy when you’re the one I’m looking at. And for the record, I wouldn’t be here with you if I didn’t
think we could get past it. You can ask Junie, but I thought about it forever, knowing I needed to have a decent feeling that
we could make this right before I even asked you out.”
I drift toward him, and inside I’m cursing the table sitting between us.
He grins. “And as it turns out, I’ve decided to stick around here too.”
“No way.”
Eddie nods. “Yes way. I mean, I’ll be getting my own place. I love my mom, and she’s a big part of me staying—wanting time
with her, to be here if she needs help, another surgery—but the roommate thing is getting very old.” He laughs.
“That’s . . . amazing. It’s amazing.”
“I think I’ve realized that sometimes a change in plans can be a good thing. It doesn’t always require some sort of failure—like
I thought it did for a long time—maybe just a change of heart.”
I grin. “This town isn’t that bad after all, right?”
The corners of his eyes squeeze into a fan of lines as he looks at me. “Definitely not from where I’m sitting.”