I rolled my eyes. That didn’t surprise me in the least. I had always thought Sheila was a vile little yip dog. The minute she and John started dating, something had shifted between us. I remember him telling me she was jealous of how close we were, of how much we talked and depended on each other. I had told him to run. He didn’t.
But he was my brother. And I could tell he was sorry. I didn’t want to say it. I really didn’t. In fact, the words came up like vomit in my mouth, sour and bitter and downright disgusting. “You have Scott and me,” I said.
Things weren’t as tense between Scott and John, probably because they were men. Probably because Scott didn’t feel like he needed his older brother’s emotional support and unconditional love. That’s why I had made Scott call John to tell him Mom was gone. I couldn’t be let down by my big brother’s response. Not again.
John hugged me and said, “I promise I’m going to be better, Ansley. I’m going to come home for Christmas and remember my nieces’ birthdays. I’m going to make you love me again.”
I sat down on my mop bucket and sighed, the pantry suddenly feeling its size with my huge brother crowded into it. Now I was mad. “Yet again,” I said, “you have taken something that is supposed to be about someone else and made it about you.”
He looked shocked.
“What?” I asked. “You expect to show up here after almost ten years, the prodigal son returning home, and be welcomed with open arms and forgiven for all your sins? This is my time. I get to mourn the loss of my mother in any way I see fit, and I don’t need you around to make me feel guilty about that. I’ll deal with you when I’m good and damn ready.”
I stood and pushed by John and walked with a purpose through the kitchen, feeling guilty already. This was the thing about us. He behaved badly, but the moment I tried to reciprocate that, I just welled up with love for him again.
I heard Mrs. McClasky calling, “Oh, Ansley, dear,” as I was walking out the back door, but I pretended not to hear her. I had had it with all of them. Fortunately, Jack’s house was only forty steps from mine, so I walked out my back door and into his. I stopped for a moment to admire the finish on the floors. It was one of the most amazing cases of floor salvation I had seen. I’d been certain we would have to replace them all, and it broke my heart. But Hippie Hal had managed to scrape away decades of hideous paint colors that were terrible for hardwoods, reveal a lovely oak underneath, and restore it to a vibrant sheen.
“Jack!” I called. But I didn’t run into Jack. I ran into that horrific Georgia. As if my day could possibly get any worse.
“Oh, Ansley,” she said, “I’m terribly sorry to hear about your mother.” She did seem sorry. She did seem nice. I didn’t see any reason why she had to wear those sleeveless turtlenecks that were so tight, but I might have been able to like her. We might have been able to be friends. If it weren’t for Jack, of course.
“Thank you, Georgia,” I said. “It’s a really hard time, but I’m lucky to have so many wonderful people around me. I’m so grateful to live in Peachtree Bluff.”
She smiled. “Well, silver linings.”
Jack came down the stairs, and much to my delight, walked to me first, gave me a big hug, kissed my cheek, and said, “I hope you’re here because you’ve thought of something I can do for you.”
I cut my eyes at Georgia. “No, no,” I said. “I just needed a little peace. There are like forty-two Mrs. McClaskys over there.”
Jack’s eyes widened in mock fear. “Yikes. That is absolutely terrifying.” He patted my arm and said, “You may hide out here as long as you like.”
“We’re going to look at houses,” Georgia said.
I didn’t like the way she said it, like they were going to look for houses—for the two of them. “Like rental property or something?” I asked.
Jack shook his head. “No. I’ve been toying with the idea of moving back to Atlanta.”
“I was in the area,” Georgia trilled, “so I thought I’d pick him up.”
In the area, my left foot. She was in the area like I was born yesterday.
I could feel my throat go tight. He was actually going to do it. He was toying with the idea of moving away from here. Away from me. “Hey, G,” he said, “would you mind giving us a second?”
She nodded. “ ’Bye, Ansley. Sorry again. Please let me know if there’s anything I can do.”
You can get the hell out of my life and away from my Jack, I wanted to say. Instead, I smiled tightly.
Jack squeezed my shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I wasn’t going to tell you all this right now. This doesn’t change anything. Finish the house. Make it a dream. I just have to look ahead.”
I thought I might cry for the fortieth time that day. Instead, I stood there, open mouthed. “You said six months,” I whispered.
He smiled. “And I meant it, Ans. This was a convenient day for both of us, and I thought I’d see what Atlanta has to offer.”
He didn’t add anything like, “We can have a city getaway.” Or, “Wouldn’t it be so convenient for you to stay there when you go to Market?” Nothing to indicate that he saw me in his future at all. But maybe he saw Georgia in it, which was even worse. She represented the very real idea that he wasn’t going to wait for me
