Chapter 22 - James
James
“It makes a lot more sense now. You’ve never been a guy to choose the fat girls before.”
Josh’s words collide within my brain like cymbals crashing, discordant and jarring. “Shut your fucking mouth,” I mutter through clenched teeth.
“I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with bigger girls, but she isn’t your usual type.” He holds up his hands, acting innocent, like his comment wasn’t rude as fuck. “That’s all I’m saying.”
“Shut your mouth before I shut it for you.”
“Are you serious? You’re really picking her,” Josh sneers, “over your own brother?”
“Yeah, I am because my brother is acting like an entitled asshole.” I point toward the kitchen where Georgie is, and I hiss, “You know nothing about Georgie and what her life has been like up to now. You don’t get to judge her and look down your nose at her, thinking your shit don’t stink, Josh.
” I shake my head, angry and disappointed.
“We have more in common with her than you think.”
“So, what is she? Your little charity case?”
I sigh, running a hand over my face, feeling weary. “Look, I hate fighting with you, but unless you get over yourself and give Georgie a chance, we’re gonna keep fighting.”
Josh throws up his hands, but it seems to be more out of exasperation than anger. “I don’t get it. I don’t understand, James! How did you let this charade happen? Why let it continue?”
“Come on, let’s go outside and talk so Georgie doesn’t hear.”
It’s a minor miracle she hasn’t heard us already, given how loud we are. In silence, we stomp out the front door, circling around the house to walk back to my garage workshop. I talk best when my hands are busy.
Raising the hood of Georgie’s old Ford, I grab a 3/8-inch socket wrench and slip it into the drive tensioner, rotating it counterclockwise to ease the tension, and slip off her old worn-out serpentine belt.
If only it were as simple to ease the tension between Josh and me, I huff to myself.
Standing to my left, Josh hands me the new belt I ordered a few weeks ago, and I explain everything as best I can.
“On the ambulance ride to the hospital, I went through her purse and found an eviction notice, an ATM receipt that listed her bank balance at a couple hundred bucks, and her cell phone, which only had three numbers saved in it. So, I called the contact she had saved as ‘mom’ and left her a message that Georgie was in a car wreck and had gone into premature labor. Her mom never even called her back.” Looking out from under the hood, I add, “Sound familiar?”
Our parents got married young because my mom was pregnant with me.
My dad loved her with a deep and selfless love, but it was a love that she could never return.
At least not to the same degree. Our mom drifted in and out of our lives until she eventually left us for good to chase her own happiness.
We’d hear from her now and then, usually when she needed money. Josh took her disappearance harder than I did. He’d sit by the phone on holidays and birthdays, convinced she’d remember, but she rarely did.
When Josh doesn’t reply, I turn back to my work. Slipping the new belt over the drive tensioner, I reverse the earlier process, tightening instead of loosening.
“I also found a bunch of cheap motel receipts. And I figured out pretty quickly that Georgie was homeless. And… I just couldn’t abandon her, so I stayed.
The hospital already thought she was my wife, so it was easy enough to continue the lie.
And over the week she and Weston were in the hospital, I…
” Trailing off, I shrug, unwilling to say more and admit my feelings aloud.
“Then what happened? She talked you into bringing her home?”
“Hardly. I suggested it, and she was… wary, I guess is the best word to describe her reaction. She was suspicious of my motives for offering.”
With narrowed eyes, Josh concludes, “So, the choice to invite her to move in with you was a symptom of your hero complex.”
“My hero complex?” I ask, my head rearing back.
“Oh, come on, James. You’ve always been drawn to the sob stories and the wounded birds, so you can swoop in and save the day.”
“That’s not true,” I scoff, but my response is reflexive. If I contemplate Josh’s comment, there is an underlying truth to be found. Flashing back to the day I met Georgie, I remember thinking how young and helpless she looked, and how protective I felt from the beginning.
“Look at your obsession with vintage cars. You only buy the ones that are wrecked or damaged because you don’t want the easy fixes. No, you want the project. You want to rebuild the car and make it whole again.”
This time I’m silent. I don’t defend myself because he has a point.
“But this is wild, even for you. Moving a woman and her son into your house? What’s really going on, James? Have you developed feelings for her? Or are you scared of losing Weston?”
“Both,” I admit with a sigh. “We don’t share blood, but Weston is my son in every other way.
And Georgie… from the first moment I saw her, I was attracted to her, and with each passing day, my feelings for her have only grown.
Believe me, I wasn’t looking to form an attachment, but I have.
Hell, I’ve spent my entire fucking life not forming attachments, but with Georgie, it’s different. It’s always been different with her.”
My mom’s disappearing act left me wary of trusting women, a distrust I carried into every relationship that followed. It’s why I never looked for anything serious. Casual flings were easier than commitments.
But it’s different with Georgie.
Because when I look at her, I see someone who’s just as broken as I am.
And I wonder… maybe our jagged pieces can fit together and make us whole.
“You never could pass up helping a person in distress. But falling for Georgie and loving her son? That’s some next-level Superman shit,” Josh says, the corner of his mouth tipping up. “You know I’m going to lobby the guys to change your nickname to Dumber and I’ll take Dumb, right?”
I laugh, feeling some of the friction in my chest fade. “I will have earned it.”
“Yeah, you definitely have with this stunt, man.”
We’re quiet for the next few minutes, as Josh hands me tools as I keep working on fixing Georgie’s truck.
“So, what’s your next move?”
“I don’t know. Josh, I love Weston, and I want a permanent place in his life.”
“But what about Weston’s father? Is he around?”
“Nah, man. He’s not. The last time they spoke was when Georgie told him she was pregnant.” Since our tempers have cooled, I apologize. “Sorry about my earlier comment about, well, you know.”
“It was a low blow, but you were right. If anyone should have some sympathy for her situation, it’s me.”
A few months after I was born, my mom vanished for the first time, leaving Dad to raise me on his own.
He didn’t hear from her for almost a year.
Then one night, she showed up on his doorstep, heavily pregnant.
And despite everything, he took her back.
No questions asked, no resentment. Just hope for a second chance.
A few months later, she gave birth to Josh.
She stuck it out for a few more years before she was gone again.
This time for good. My dad was left with two boys to raise, though only one of us shared his blood.
He wasn’t perfect, not by a long shot, but unlike our mom, he stayed.
He showed up and loved us both the best he could.
I wonder if that’s why I stayed with Georgie. Because I know what it means to have someone who chooses to stay.
“And you’re sure she’s not using you for your money? I saw all the packages that were delivered to your house while you were away.”
Smirking, I explain. “You mean the packages I bought for her without her knowledge?” Josh scowls, still unable to accept my word that Georgie isn’t a gold-digger as fact.
“When I left for Charlie’s tour, I left her one of my credit cards.
Told her to buy whatever she needed on it.
She never used it. Not even once. When I got back, I noticed a stack of job applications on the kitchen counter, so I’m pretty sure she’s not after me for my money.
She’s only staying here because she needed a helping hand to get back on her feet. ”
Josh nods once and rolls back onto his heels. “I still don’t like this, James.”
“I know you don’t, but you don’t have a say. This is my choice.”
Later that evening, I’m in Weston’s nursery, rocking him when Georgie comes in.
“Don’t put him to sleep yet; I still need to feed him,” she teases.
“I know. I just missed him. He already seems bigger.”
Cradling him in my arms, Weston curls his little fist around my shirt, pulling on it, while his eyes lock on mine. I hope he can feel my love for him.
Love. I’m growing more comfortable with the idea of love. I’ve always loved my brother and my band family, but I never anticipated expanding my circle and finding more people to love.
“Yeah, he’s grown out of the preemie clothes, and it won’t be long before he’s too big for the newborn clothes, too.”
She smiles as I stand and hand Weston to her. “He has his next doctor’s appointment on Tuesday, right?”
“Yeah, but I’m sure you’ll be busy getting back into the swing of things after being out of town. If you’re okay with me borrowing one of your cars, I can take him to his appointment by myself.”
She’s not wrong. Hayes and Rowdy have been working on some new songs, and Char is eager to get us back into the studio. But that doesn’t mean I won’t show up when Georgie and Weston need me.
“I’ll always make time for Weston, and I’d like to come.”
Georgie’s head pops up at the seriousness of my tone. “Oh, okay.”
“Also, I told Josh about our… situation when he was here earlier.”
“I know.”
My face twists into a grimace. “You heard us?”
She bobs her. “A bit, yeah.”
“I’m sorry, Georgie—”
“Don’t be. Nothing you said wasn’t true.”
Maybe, maybe not. But assuming she only heard what was said while we were in the foyer, she didn’t hear the whole truth.