Real Bad Things(61)

“I’m sorry,” she said. Things were better this way, she told herself. He deserved someone who loved him all the way through. Someone who would not be disappointed when he came into the room because he’d invaded her quiet. Someone who didn’t become enraged at the smallest things. Someone who wouldn’t murder another human being.

She’d been unfair and unkind to him. That was no way to live—half-loved, half-resented.

He sniffled and rubbed her wedding ring as if it were magic and could fix them.

Tears, those enemies, charged again, as if they were an army inside her, unleashed and finally breaking the seawall Georgia Lee had built to try to keep emotions from overtaking her. She would face whatever happened next with Warren’s case. She’d protect Rusty and the boys by removing herself. It was for the best.

“I don’t care about the other girl. Girls,” he corrected. “I just want you to be happy.”

Georgia Lee wondered what information had come out of the woodwork since Let’s Talk About Maud had insinuated an association with Jane. She couldn’t imagine any of the girls from college coming forward and admitting to a relationship. Those girls had been like Georgia Lee. They’d only been having fun. They’d all meant to eventually settle down and get married to a man. That’d seemed the only option. One that Georgia Lee had taken to readily. She recalled a verse from 1 Corinthians 7, one she’d read in their early days, one that felt prescient, if she’d only paid attention: It is better to marry than to burn with passion.

Times had changed, though. If she were that same girl now, she’d think on her options a bit more. Not that she’d eschew Rusty for a woman, necessarily. She had loved him. But after almost two decades of an ember, she might choose instead to burn.

“We can still make this work, Georgia Lee.” He reached out to hold her hand again. His voice faltered, but he restrained any tears. “I’ll change. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you happy.”

Part of her was with him, part of her wanted out. It was a confusing place to be. She wanted to rush into his embrace, the security of him. But she imagined herself driving up to their house once again and feeling her heart sink. Her life, she hated to admit, would feel over, especially after coming this far, speaking what was in her heart. But here was Rusty, so tried and true. Anything else, uncertain, risky. She teetered on the possibilities. Perhaps a different woman would’ve swallowed her pride and her desires and would have leaped at the chance to be held once again in those strong arms.

“Will you just think about it? Stay in the guest room awhile. And then we’ll see how things are going. After the election.”

He was right. She couldn’t do anything before then. Too messy. She had enough on her plate. She nodded. She’d deal with this another time. First, she had to deal with what to do now that she remembered what she’d done.



At work, she went about her morning duties, ensuring Billie and Cassidy had their register drawers and all the aisles were cleaned, the shelves straightened.

Everything was going to be fine. No, everything was going to be great.

As the afternoon ticked down, the store remained quiet as always. Nothing but the adult alternative station and the incessant chatter from Billie and Cassidy.

Even when the pharmacy wasn’t busy, there were things to do, clean, take care of. The illusion of work even when work proved hard to find.

She walked to the front and caught them looking at their phones, whispering. As soon as they saw her, they got this look, the kind she and Christlyn and Susannah wore when they were caught talking about the very person who had walked up to them unawares.

“What’s so interesting?” she asked.

“Um. Nothing.” Billie slipped her phone into the back pocket of her jeans. Cassidy trained her eyes on the doors. She recognized those looks. She had perfected them back in high school.

“Let me see.” Georgia Lee held out her hand. She had no authority—it was probably illegal to even ask—but she was an authority figure to them, and they tended to do what she asked out of fear.

Billie slid the phone toward Georgia Lee, who couldn’t help but roll her eyes at the drama. She pulled her reading glasses from the pocket of her smock and picked up the phone as if it were the greatest inconvenience of her life. By the time Georgia Lee had it in hand, the phone screen had gone black.

“It’s locked.”

Billie unlocked the phone and handed it over again.

Even without her glasses, she’d recognize that photo booth strip anywhere.

The photos on Let’s Talk About Maud’s page looked mild compared to what Billie and Cassidy and her own teenagers were exposed to—and no doubt participated in—on the various screens to which they were addicted. Nothing but heavy petting and kissing. Messing around in a semipublic space for the fun, the danger of it. Their hands tangled around each other’s bodies. Jane’s face clear. Georgia Lee’s head almost entirely cut off in all the shots due to the angle of their awkward groping and a case of the giggles that had erupted when the camera clicked four times. The last photo was quite fetching, she had to admit. Like a movie poster of two lovers meeting again after years apart. She couldn’t remember the movie name, but she could see the poster clear as day. But two girls making out, no mistaking that. Panic spread across her body like a hot flash. Who had found this? Where had they found it? There was only one answer.