“I thought it was me,” she said softly, opening her eyes and looking at Star, her voice breaking on the words. “I thought I was the reason you left. You promised me you’d come back, and you didn’t. I waited for you to come for me. I waited for years, with a little girl’s absolute trust that what her mama says is God’s honest truth. And then little by little, that hope wavered and died, and the only thing I could think was that there was something bad about me, wrong with me, that you would leave me behind and break your promise to come back for me. It was the only way I could understand a mother leaving her child.” Star winced, but Georgia didn’t stop, the words spilling out of her in a rush.
“So I determined that I had to do better,bebetter. I had to prove myself to everyone—Daddy, Aunt Hannah, the world,you. Everything I’ve done I did to prove myself worthy, to prove that I was worth something, that I was good enough.” She shook her head, looking between Star and Buck with astonishment. “All these years, I believed that somehow I was the reason our family fell apart. That lie defined my entire life. I’ve been trying to prove myself to you and to the world ever since. And now, all these years later, I see that this wasn’t about me at all. All the broken promises and lies and secrets, what you’ve done, or failed to do... This was about you two all along.”
A moment of silence, the ticking of the clock. Star and Buck both sat wordlessly. Star had her head bowed and hands clasped before her on the table as though she were making asupplication or a prayer. She was crying quietly. Buck tapped his hat on his knee, frowning uncomfortably.
Georgia looked from Star to Buck, feeling angry and helpless and suddenly so tired—tired of holding the weight of their failures and foibles. She was tired by her own efforts to make herself worthy, to prove she was enough. It was exhausting. She had been carrying the burden of her family’s dysfunction for so long. She just wanted to put it down now. She wanted to be free.
She glanced at the kitchen clock. If she hurried, she could still make a flight out to Paris by this evening. The thought brought instant relief. She could pack quickly and call a taxi. By tomorrow, she could be back in Paris, away from the pain and mess of her fractured family, away from everything that was causing her such grief. She felt the confusion and helpless anger lift with the thought of leaving the island.
“I’ve got to go,” she said, not an apology but a statement of fact.
“Where are you going?” Star asked in alarm. There were tears making tracks down her cheeks. She looked devastated.
“Back where I belong,” Georgia said firmly, and then she headed upstairs to pack.
33
Georgia was throwingall of her belongings into her suitcases with a determination that bordered on desperation when someone knocked on the door to her room.
“Come in,” she said warily, a pair of leather boots in her hand. She expected Star, but it was Buck who opened the door.
“Daddy?” Georgia was surprised.
He ducked and came in, his tall form filling the doorway. “I just came to say goodbye, Georgia. The ferryboat’s leaving soon and I’ve got a plane to catch. I’ve got to get back. Hannah’s been having some trouble with her heart, and I can’t let her carry the load of the ranch for too long. It drains her.”
“Oh.” Georgia straightened. “Okay.” She hesitated for a moment, then went back to packing. She didn’t want to talk to him. She just wanted him to leave.
Buck waited a moment, then nodded. “Well then, I guess I should get going.” He hesitated, turning the brim of his Stetson around in his hands. In the silence, she could hear the rasp of the fabric against his chapped skin.
“You should have told me the truth,” Georgia said abruptly, facing him, her anger blazing up in an instant. She held a folded jacket against her stomach like a shield. “My mother didn’t just vanish into thin air, but you and Aunt Hannah acted like she had. That was wrong. You decided something for me, and it shaped the course of my life. You should have at least told me she was alive and answered my questions about her. And whenI got older, you should have given me the chance to make my own decision about if I wanted to see her. Now she’s sick and it’s too late. You’ve cost me... so much. All the years we could have had together.” Her voice broke and she cleared her throat, trying to regain her composure. She didn’t want to cry in front of her father. She wanted to stay strong. She steeled herself and raised her chin defiantly.
Buck nodded. “I see that now,” he admitted. “All this time, I thought we were doing the right thing.” He looked regretful. “I was so angry with your mother for so many years. I made her solely responsible for ruining our family and, if I’m honest, for breaking my heart. I’ve never loved another woman like I loved her. I was so angry when she couldn’t stop hurting herself and you and me. I thought she could choose differently, that she didn’t love us enough to choose us over the drugs. But I see now that it was more complicated than that. Her hurts were so big she couldn’t make the right choices, even though she wanted to. And that’s a shame.” He shook his head, his expression sober. “In a way, I think I wanted to keep her away from you, away from us, because it felt like she’d made her choice and she’d chosen her addiction over us. It was easier that way, to erase her from our family history. It hurt less if I just ignored her entirely. But I see now that was a mistake. I’m sorry I kept your mama from you like a secret. I made that choice for you. I was wrong. I’m sorry, Georgia girl.” He cleared his throat awkwardly.
Georgia stared at her father in wary amazement. She had never heard him apologize for anything in her life. To her surprise, she found his words weren’t nearly enough. “Sorry doesn’t give me my life back,” she said sharply. “Sorry doesn’t give me those years I could have had with my mother. Sorry doesn’t replace the truth you kept from me or the choices you made for me.” She threw a stack of shirts into her suitcase. The little hotcoal of anger that had been glowing steadily in her stomach for so long ignited into a righteous indignation, fueled by all the hurt and injustice, the lies and secrets her parents had kept for so long.
Buck nodded, his face sober. “You have a right to your anger, Georgia May. No question about that. But be careful. I spent a lot of years holding on to rage and blame against your mama. And that anger and hurt I’d carried for so long, well, after a while it starts to harden into something ugly, something mean. As the years pass, you either soften or you calcify. I see now I’ve been making the wrong choice for far too long. I’m a hard man, Georgia, and I’ve been carrying a heavy load, all this resentment and self-righteousness. I’m tired of carrying the weight of it. I’m getting too old for this now. It’s time to lighten the load, so I guess I’m going to lay down this old grudge against Star.” He sighed heavily. “It’s about time to let things go. You might want to remember that, Georgia. Star has made her share of mistakes, but she loves you and she doesn’t have much time left.”
Georgia stared at her father in astonishment. She’d never heard her father put that many words together or been that self-reflective. Apparently the rice pudding she had made had actually worked. Was it possible that it was bringing her parents clarity after all these years?
“I’ll think about it,” Georgia said stiffly, hearing his words but not willing to bend just yet. She folded a pair of jeans and stashed them in her suitcase, then added, “That’s the first positive thing I think I’ve ever heard you say about Star.”
Buck gave a rueful smile. His face wasn’t used to smiling; the creases around his mouth ran in the wrong direction. “Well, I guess maybe folks can always find some common ground over a bowl of rice pudding,” he admitted gruffly. “We may not have agreed with each other on much of anything in life, and thegood Lord knows we were about as mismatched as two people could be, but we always loved you and tried our best to do right by you. That we can agree on.” He looked uncomfortable. It was the most sentimental speech Georgia had ever heard her daddy give.
“Looks like you’re headed somewhere?” Buck slapped his hat against his thigh briskly, changing the subject to the safer territory of practicalities.
Georgia nodded. “Back to Paris,” she said, then reluctantly added, “I just booked a flight for later today. I have a competition coming up soon and I need to be back for it. If I win, I’ll have the chance to run my own kitchen in Paris.”
“Well, I know that’s what you’ve been aiming for,” Buck said. “I hope it goes well for you, Georgia May.” He hesitated. “You need a ride to the ferryboat?”
Georgia shook her head. “I have to finish packing. I’ll take a later boat. My flight isn’t until tonight. You go ahead.”
Buck nodded. “Okay then. Guess I’d better get going.” He paused and cleared his throat. “Georgia, If you ever want to come back to Texas, you know the door is always open to you. Hannah and I would welcome you for as long as you want to stay.”
Georgia nodded but didn’t say anything to his invitation, just folded a T-shirt and tucked it in her suitcase. “Thank you for coming to check on me,” she said grudgingly. The fact that her father had dropped everything at the ranch immediately to catch a plane and come make sure she was okay was not lost on her. When he’d thought Star was deceiving Georgia, he’d braved an airplane, city traffic, a ferry ride, and his loathed ex-wife to make sure his little girl was safe. He was not a demonstrative man, but his actions spoke volumes. He might have made plenty of mistakes, but deep down, she knew her daddy loved her.
Buck looked pleased and a little uncomfortable. “Whenyou’re a daddy, your little girl is always a little girl, even when she’s grown. I’ve always been trying to protect you, Georgia, the best I knew how.”
Georgia nodded. She felt her anger toward him soften just a notch. They’d had their share of differences, but here was proof that he loved her. Despite his many failings, he had always tried to take care of her. That counted for something.
