Sweet Forty-Two(24)

As I closed her door and unlocked what was now mine, it hit me. While I’d seen Georgia bounce across the line between excessively seductive and perfectly badass, the only time I’d seen anything soft and bright from her was in her interactions with her coworkers and with CJ. The girl that leaped over the bar and gripped CJ into a squealing hug was the same girl that offered me the apartment in her building.

She trusted me. Seemed relieved I hadn’t tried to “get in her pants.”

“Crap,” I whispered to myself as I gazed out what was now my picture window.

Pressing my forehead into the single-pane of glass I let out a low groan.

I’d just been friend-zoned by Georgia.

Living in her building certainly was going to be a ride. Maybe Lissa was right, after all.

We’ll see...





Georgia

My breathing didn’t get ahold of itself until I was a good two miles away from the apartment. He’d wanted to kiss me, and under normal circumstances I would have allowed him to. But, by design, he was going to be living across the hall from me. I needed friends, according to my therapist. I wondered, though, if she’d meant that I should rent an apartment to someone I was incredibly attracted to.

Probably not.

But, given the resignation that I’d be alone for the rest of my life, I thought it would be okay to have someone nice and good looking living across the hall. Just to remind me what being human feels like. Even if I could never act on those feelings, it would be nice to feel them. While I still could feel, that is.

Merging onto the highway, heading North, I had to take a cleansing breath to erase the cool scent of the hazel-eyed, brassy-haired hottie from my senses. It was time to focus. To prepare.

A half an hour later I was pulling into the parking lot of Breezy Pointe. Sounds pleasant, right? A small town on the coast, maybe? A picnic spot where one might spend careless Sundays in the sand?

It was designed that way. To make you think a million happy thoughts before you walked through the doors and were confronted by every awful thing you wanted to fix.

“Hi Wendy.” I smiled to the sixty-five-year-old nurse at the desk. I didn’t see her too often, as I usually came right after my shifts at E’s, and she worked the day shift.

“Georgia Rose, how are you?” Her voice held a hint of the southern sweet tea she carried with her from Texas when she moved here last year. She always said my name like Jo-ja. I loved it. “You didn’t come last night?”

I shook my head. “Bad night the night before. I...”

“Needing a break is okay, Sugar. We all need them. Given the last few months you’ve had ... well, I’m glad you got some rest.” She was allowed to call me Sugar all she wanted. She had a heart big enough for the both of us.

“Thanks. Can you check to see if she’s ... available?”

Wendy nodded as she handed me the sign-in binder. She picked up the black phone, pressing a few buttons as I stared at the cheap art posters on the wall behind her. For a place that costs so much money, you’d think they might want to buy something other than a screen print of a shitty sunflower field. I vowed to call my photog friend, Kate, in Illinois this week to ask her to send me some canvas shots.

“Georgia.” Wendy’s tone indicated this was not the first time she’d called my name. I was busy making plans to pretty up the place I’d been spending more and more time as the days wore on.

“Sorry, what?”

“You can head on back.”

I took my visitor badge and smiled through the sad gaze she gave me as I wandered to the locked door for the unit.

After being buzzed in and giving a silent greeting to the nurses at the desk, I made my way down the hall.

1826.

I paused at the familiar door, tracing the curves of the numbers with my eyes as I caught my breath. Typically, I’d be able to visit her in her room. Still with a nurse present, but at least in her own space. Not today, though. Not after Saturday night left me shaken and with a bruise on my wrist. It’d been over a year since she’d had an episode like that.

Just one more locked door separated me from the visiting area. Another nurse greeted me at the door and escorted me in.

“How is she today?” I checked my backpack and jewelry at the nurses’ station before going further.

Daniel, the nurse who seemed to always be here, gave a stern nod. “Not excitable. We’re not sure yet if the sedatives haven’t fully worn off or if she’s back on the immobility end.”

I swallowed hard as we entered the large, bright space, gilded with damaged dreams, disappointment, and fear. The sign out front scribbled something about hope, but I’d only ever been in here when hope failed.

Daniel started discussing some of the protocols they’d put in place over the last twenty-four hours, but as soon as I saw her slender figure in the wheelchair by the window, all other attention fled my body as I walked toward her. She was facing me, and I mumbled a small prayer under my breath that she’d recognize me.

“Mama,” I whispered, kneeling in front of her, trying to find the focus of her eyes.

Her head didn’t move, but her eyes did. The empty brown holes fluttered over my face before settling on my eyes. They opened a little wider, just as her lips parted.

Please, please let her say something.

She tilted her head to the side, her greying brown hair laying over one shoulder, and with a slight smile she quietly spoke. “Baby.”