Georgie, All Along (30)
I shake my head, opening the text thread I now have with him, his last message sent at six o’clock this morning, when I was still asleep. I’ll be taking Hank with me today, it reads. Thanks again for watching him yesterday.
I’d winced when I’d first read it, feeling like I’d lost another job somehow. Levi probably had no choice yesterday, letting Hank stay home with me, but I expect he’s working hard not to need me again. I’ve been checking my phone so much because at any moment I’m expecting a text telling me there was a hotel available, after all.
Let’s keep this simple, I can hear him saying, in that quiet but impatient voice, and my face heats in embarrassment. I shove my phone back into my purse, determined to leave it there for the rest of the afternoon.
This day is not about Levi. It’s about ghost frames!
“Georgie!” calls Bel, from somewhere deeper in the store. “Georgie, come here!”
Grateful for the distraction, I make my way toward the sound of her voice, expecting she’s found something incredibly disturbing to show me. Maybe an old doll in a sailor suit with all its hair plucked out, or a vintage speculum. I peek down a couple of aisles before I find her, her and the proprietor’s backs toward me, and as I get closer, I can see they’ve got a beautifully polished, cherrywood trunk on the floor in front of them. I don’t have any idea where Bel’s going to put it, but I suppose that’s not my business.
“This is nice,” I say, my eyes on it as I come to stand beside her, but then she pinches the back of my arm.
“Ow,” I say, immediately lifting my hand to rub at it. I aim an appalled look her way, but that’s when I realize she and the proprietor are not standing around this trunk alone.
“Oh,” I correct, and wouldn’t you know it.
This time, I actually am staring right into the face of Evan Fanning.
“Look who I ran in to!” Bel says, sounding as delighted as an antiques dealer commenting on the stage of a new customer’s pregnancy.
“Oh,” I repeat, but this time, it’s less shock and more revelation: I know immediately, bone-deep, why I blurted that apology to Levi two nights ago. It’s because, even after knowing him for only a few hours—gruff, rough-around-the-edges Levi, who’s tenderhearted about his dog and shy to talk about his success—it seems absurd that I could have had a moment’s confusion between him and the glossy, confident, ultra-popular teenage boy I’d once had a crush on.
Today, Evan Fanning looks very nearly the same as that teenage boy. Older, sure, but somehow, still the same. Thick brown hair combed back from his brow, clean-shaven face. Straight nose, strong jaw. Sun-bronzed and smiling. Hands tucked easily into the pockets of pants, his posture casual, comfortable.
“You remember Evan Fanning,” Bel says, and I’ll give it to her, she does not say it like I’ve written half an amateur novel in this person’s honor. She says it like, Oh, hey, here’s this guy from our high school!
“Of course,” I say, trying to match her casual tone. “Hi.”
“Georgie, right?”
I scan my body for the instinct to swoon in adolescent he knows my name! glee.
There’s nothing except a vague relief that I’m not wearing wrinkled overalls. Bel, however, is all excitement beside me. As soon as we get in the car, I’m going to pinch her right back. Lightly, on account of the pregnancy, but still. It’s too much pleasure she’s taking in this.
“That’s me,” I say, and turn to his companion, a young woman with long hair the same color as Evan’s—and Levi’s—and an excited glance that bounces between me, Evan, and Bel. “Hi,” I greet her, holding out my hand.
She takes it, shaking it enthusiastically. “I’m Olivia, Evan’s sister! Probably y’all don’t remember me, though; I was way behind you in school!”
I don’t have the chance to tell her whether I do or don’t (I do, vaguely, and mostly on account of the Evan obsession), because she goes right on talking. “Basically you are a legend to me. Working for Nadia Haisman? I love her films.”
I also don’t have the chance to tell her that this isn’t true anymore; apparently she hasn’t run in to Mrs. Michaels anywhere in the last few days. It’s a nice change, though, to have a reputation for something other than getting detention or sleeping through my PSATs.
“Liv is a big movie buff,” says Evan. He does this small, warm, teasing chuckle that probably would have given me a cardiac event a dozen years ago and nudges her. “Believe me, I’d know.”
Olivia rolls her eyes dramatically and nudges him back. “Ev and I are roommates the past few months. Last night I made him watch Legally Blonde.”
“Classic film,” Bel says, obviously absolutely thrilled.
“With commentary,” Evan adds, groaning for effect, and Bel and Olivia both laugh lightly. But all I can think about is Levi, saying he doesn’t see his brother, or any of his family. Evan and Olivia seem close, comfortable with each other, and I’m inexplicably resentful on Levi’s behalf. How can they watch Legally Blonde (with commentary!) without their brother? Levi would be perfectly nice to watch a movie with, I guess, as long as you don’t . . . bring up the exact people I am irrationally annoyed at for excluding him.
Bel notices my uncharacteristic silence and clears her throat. “Georgie’s in town helping me get ready for this little one,” she says, smoothing a hand over her stomach. “My husband and I recently moved back. Well, he’s from Connecticut originally. But you know what I mean.”