been there to do it.
Mom took my cold coffee over to the sink and dumped it out. Then she braced her hands on either side of the basin. “Look, Joey. I know it’s hard for you to see me with Randy, but he’s my husband now. He’s good to me. I am asking you to respect that.”
“Do you love him more than dad?” I don’t know what possessed me to ask that question. It was foolish and I really didn’t want to hear her say yes because that would break my heart.
Mom turned and I saw a fresh line of moisture running down her cheek. “I’ll never love anyone the way I loved your father. But he chose to leave so I’m doing the best that I can.”
“But—”
“No,” she stabbed a finger in my face. “No more. You always took your father’s side in everything. He’s been gone for years and still, you take his side. He isn’t this great infallible being, he is just a man. So for once, please, see him as the flawed human being he is instead of blaming everything on me!”
With that, she stormed out of the kitchen without a backward glance.
I set Puck on the floor and then just sat there. Stunned and filled with total disbelief. Grammy dead. Dad was gone. Me a druggie and a crappy friend and daughter and granddaughter because I’d let all this happen.
My phone rang and I closed my eyes, unable to deal with any more. Let voicemail eat that one.
Instead, I headed outside. I’d borrowed a pair of leggings and dry socks from my mother along with a heavy sweater. The beautiful clothes I’d donned that morning were unsalvageable. Stupid Alina. I wasn’t sure if I was more upset with her or myself.
Probably myself.
Puck followed me as I walked the short distance to Grammy’s house. There was a for sale sign in front of it. A lump formed in my throat as I recalled seeing Grandpappy sitting in the chair, feet up, and taking his leisure as he waited for Grammy B to come home. I recalled the disturbed look on his face as he watched my gymnastics video, how he said I was changing.
But no Grandpappy or Grammy B waited inside the house. In fact, it looked empty of all the furniture and mementos of two lives well lived. Someone else would move in eventually and make it theirs. All because I hadn’t been available for her.
I’d spared myself the accident. And it had turned me into someone I didn’t like and wasn’t proud to be. So what if I had a gold medal if I didn’t truly deserve it ?All the things that it had stood for in my mind, hard work and integrity, weren’t a part of my life.
“Excuse me?” A male voice called out from behind me.
I turned around and my mouth dropped open in shock as I saw the one man I never thought to see again. “George?”
It was him all right. The shaggy dark brown hair and kind brown eyes. No sign of Georgia’s elegant coiffure or long nails. Just an average man in coveralls.
He flinched when he saw my face but asked, “Have we met?”
I shook my head and then added lamely, “It’s on your nametag.”
His head bobbed up and down as though that made sense. “Right. Do you know where Tyson Ridge Road is?”
I moved closer to the tow truck, still staring in amazement. “George, not Georgia?”
He frowned at me. “What?”
“You. You’re really Georgia.” At some point, I’d moved past the worry that other people would realize I didn’t fit in with this timeline. I didn’t want my echo self to catch up. I didn’t want the memories of me being a complete tool.
“How—?” George was staring at me, mouth open.
“That’s who you are,” I confirmed. An alternate timeline or not, some things were universal. It made me incredibly sad to see that Georgia hadn’t emerged from her George shaped chrysalis. Why not?
Because he wasn’t married to you. The sensible shrew whispered.
Could she be correct? All this time I’d believed my marriage to George had been a farce. I’d been so worried about how everyone else in town saw me, their judgment over what happened between us that I hadn’t seen the good it had done in George’s life.
The support he’d needed and the courage it had given him to take the final step.
“You are Georgia,” I said, holding his gaze. “You can drive a tow truck and look