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“Yes. But now everything we do will seem really dull.”
“Well, what were you going to suggest before?”
She tilted her head to one side, in a way that made her look so cute, I had to force myself not to kiss her again. “You know how we have these family traditions? Like eating together on Sundays, and decorating the house together at Christmas? Well, another one of our favourites is making gingerbread men. Georgia and I used to do it when we were little, and I thought, when she wakes up from her nap, we could make some. If nothing else, it might put Mum in a good mood that we did something useful this afternoon.”
“Wait, wait, wait,” I said, backing away, “You want me, a big, macho soccer star, to bake gingerbread men?”
Isabelle laughed. “You’re not that macho.”
She was right. When Georgia woke up, she and Isabelle mocked my natural ability to decorate gingerbread men with icing which pretty much sealed my fate as a beta male. It was totally worth it to see Georgia laughing again. Izzy refused to let her be unhappy, so she cranked up the Christmas music, and danced with Georgia through the whole process. We were all covered in flour when we were done, and I thought Janet might flip out over the mess. When she came home, the girls were singing an out of tune but very enthusiastic version of Santa Claus Is Coming To Town, and mad as she was at Georgia, she couldn’t help but smile at her daughters.
Even though Janet had warmed towards Georgia, she still refused to let her come out with us on Friday night. Before we went out, I stopped by Georgia’s room to see her. I had to leave real early on Saturday morning, and she’d told me in advance that, as much as she’d enjoyed spending time with Hunter and me, it would take the zombie apocalypse to get her out of bed before nine.
“Are you really okay about not comin
g with us tonight?” I asked her, as she sat at her desk, flicking through a magazine. “I could beg your mom one more time if you want?”
She smiled. “It’s really okay, Jesse. But thanks.”
“It won’t be the same without you.”
I meant it too. Georgia always brought the fun when we went out, and it would be a quieter evening without her.
She sighed, closing her magazine, then stood up. “I’m really sorry about everything that happened. I know I’ve apologised a million times, but I still feel like it’s not enough. Not when you’ve got to have surgery on your knee, and … what if it doesn’t get better?”
That was an outcome I was not ready to face just yet, but just the thought of it sent a wave of nausea through me.
“If that’s what happens,” I told her, “it still won’t be your fault. You didn’t do this to me.”
“I know. But I still feel responsible. And I don’t know how you could forgive me so easily.”
I shrugged. “What’s the point in being mad? It’s happened, it sucks, but staying angry won’t magically make my knee any better. And being mad at you … that’s even more pointless. You did the right thing by telling the police, and you’ve suffered more than enough without me holding a grudge against you.”
She blinked back the tears in her eyes. “I really hope you and Izzy have a great last night together. I know she’s going to miss you.”
“I’ll miss her too. And I’m gonna need you to make sure she doesn’t mope around here once I’m gone.”
“I don’t think I’ll be able to stop her,” Georgia laughed. “I don’t think you realise how much she likes you.”
“I do. I feel the same way. But you’ve both had a rough few weeks, and you deserve to have a great Christmas. So take care of each other.”
“We will.”
I wriggled one arm free from my crutch, and gave Georgia a long hug. “It was really great to see you again, Georgia.”
“You too. I hope it’s not too long before we can all meet up again.”
“Maybe you can come to L.A.”
Georgia laughed again. “I think it’s a sure thing that Izzy will drag me over there at the first opportunity!”
As we stepped apart, I smiled at her. It wasn’t just my feelings for Isabelle that made me warm towards Georgia. She was a good girl, even if she did make some terrible choices.
“Hey, Jesse. Are you ready to go?”
I turned as Hunter walked into the room. He made a huge effort to look good for his last night with Willow. He’d bought new black pants, and teamed it up with a white shirt, which had a black velvet dragon that stretched from the back around to the front. I’d ribbed him about choosing velvet, but he explained that girls are very tactile creatures, and the fuzzy material would guarantee Willow would want to touch it, getting himself a free feel in the process.
Couldn’t really argue with his logic.
