I stand silent at the door to Georgie’s room as I hear her question, and Kiln’s statement. Memories swamp my brain. I see Steffie, as plain as day, struggling and begging.
Suddenly, I’m in need of a hit to dispel the images, but Georgie’s gasp reaches my brain just as fast, so I push back the yearning that chases me always, and go into her room.
Her entire demeanor has changed. Kiln’s words have softened her completely towards me. My connection to Kiln isn’t well-known, and it’s rarely acknowledged between us. Telling her is just a means to an end. He’s just that fucking cutthroat.
Nerves are overtaking her again and she clutches the sheet. I’m not addressing anything now because we won’t be alone for very long. The moment the thought crosses my brain, the door flies open and Georgie’s father and grandmother walk in.
Helen Sanderson keeps herself groomed and stylishly dressed. Vestiges of her beauty remain as she marches to Georgie and stares down her nose at her.
“Grandma,” Georgie greets, her gaze flickering between Helen and Parnell.
“What possessed you to hurt yourself, Georgiana?”
“Weariness,” she says without hesitation.
Her grandmother’s eyes widen.
Mine do, too.
“Weariness?” Helen echoes. “I’m allowed to get weary. I’ve been around awhile. You’re just starting your life. You should have optimism.”
“I should, but I don’t,” Georgie says simply. “It isn’t your fault, Grandma. It isn’t anyone’s fault and I’m sorry if I’ve put you through any trouble.”
She pulls a face, but it doesn’t affect Georgie. “Is there anyone I need to have thrown out of this room?” She sniffs and glares at me.
“No,” she answers without hesitation.
Helen sits in the only chair near the bed and folds her hands demurely in her lap. “Do you want to leave with Sloane or go to Europe?”
“I have a choice?”
She slants me another glance. “Did anyone tell you otherwise?”
“He can get in trouble.”
“That depends on what capacity you’re traveling with him. He’s assured me everything will be above board. He’s going to hire a tutor to travel with the band. Or we go to Europe and I enroll you in a private school.”
“You have a very open mind about this, Grandma.”
If she only fucking knew. Of course, my conditions to Georgie aren’t known to Helen. And Helen isn’t admitting to Georgie that our time together won’t be as long as it sounds. To the casual listener, Georgie will be with me for weeks. That isn’t further from the truth.
“That tends to happen when you get the type of call that I did. You need rest,” Helen continues. “And you need a bit of happiness. If being around him gives it to you and helps you to get stronger, then that’s what’ll happen.”
She lowers her lashes again. “What about Mom?”
“Your mom is your mom,” Helen states, “so don’t concern yourself with her or Parnell. I’ll look after them.”
If she fucked over them half as much as she has me, then I might feel sorry for Cassandra and Parnell. But we’ve all gambled with Georgie’s life, so I consider my penance minuscule. I want her with me, though. Someone needs to watch over her and I don’t trust her fucking family to do it. Those closest to you, hurt you the most.
“Where’s Crowell?”
Case in fucking point.
Parnell is fucking clueless, demonstrating his idiocy by standing silently there. Though Helen knows of my involvement in Crowell’s accident, she shrugs at Georgie’s question. We’ve agreed we won’t tell Georgie anything about his condition until she’s stronger.
“Is he okay?” she persists.
I forgot to add that condition—leave Crowell the fuck alone.
“Worry about him some other time,” her grandmother says sharply. “We focus on you now.”
Sinking back into her pillows, Georgie closes her eyes. “I’ll go with Sloane.”
“Of course, dear. Anything you want is yours.”
I’ve heard those words before from my father. Helen saying them doesn’t offer me any additional comfort then when I look back over my life and remember all the times my father uttered those same, damning words.
Georgie
After all the activity of Sloane, Kiln, Dad, and Grandma, I find myself suddenly alone. The story of my life, so why does it bother me now? Because it leaves me alone to think of the days I spent locked in that room. It makes me wonder about Mom’s sanity. My beautiful, elegant mother…I always knew there was something fragile about her. I’m still not sure what it is, but it finally broke her.
Was it me? I’ve not been any good to her, other than to demand my way. In most things, I didn’t have much demanding to do. As long as I don’t inconvenience them, they spoil me.