Page 6 of Georgia: Britain's Story: Part 1
“Uhh, yeah. I’ve got a pudgy little girl at home that I just wanna snuggle with all day. I only came back after my maternity leave because I knew you needed me. You know, since the whole ‘husband left you for his assistant’ thing,” she says as she uses her hand to vaguely gesture in my direction.Wow. I feel like shit. I’ve been too preoccupied with my own life to see that, obviously, my best friend would rather be home with hernewbornthan come back to work.
“Jess, I…I’m so sorry.” I truly mean it. I’ve been a selfish idiot to not see this.
“Do. Not. Be. Sorry. This has actually worked out perfectly,” she says with a devilish look in her eye. “When I came back, it forced Tommy to stay home with Eden. And now that he knows what it’s like to be a stay-at-home parent, he’s gonna worship the ground I walk on when I tell him he can go back to the office.” She’s grinning ear to ear.
“Oh my gawd, I love you,” I let out in a relieved laugh.
“Even better is I’m going to stay on as your part-time personal assistant, working from home, of course. Well, unless you want to work from Neiman Marcus, in which case, I can make an exception,” she says with a wink.
“Of course,” I say and smile.
“Don’t get a big head over this. I love you and want to keep working with you, but also, I need to fund my shoe addiction.” We both look down at her brand new Choos she bought this morning and simultaneously burst out laughing.
“Jess, I don’t deserve you.Thank you.” Jess reaches across the table snagging my hand in hers.
“Britain, everybody deserves someone in their corner and I’m your girl. I’ll always be in your corner. I got you.” A tear slips down my cheek. Thank God for Jess. She may be the only person in my life that cares, but she cares enough for ten people. I don’t need to say anything in return, which is probably good because I’m pretty sure I’d break down and start bawling if I had to speak right now.
“Mmmkay, now that that’s settled. We gotta keep prepping for tomorrow. Pull out your phone girl and start a new note. We’ve got work to do,” Jess orders. I take a deep breath, happy for this moment, for this friendship as I pull out my phone and start a new note.
TWO
Britain
Driving through rolling green hills dotted with blooming trees, I try to focus on my breathing.In, 1234, Out 12345678,over and over. My anxiety is off the charts right now, and has been all morning. In actuality it's just a continuation of the anxiety that plagued my sleep. I slept as little as I normally do, falling asleep around 1:00 A.M., yet promptly waking at 5:30 A.M. ready to start this treacherous day. And since then, I've had that sick to my stomach, queasy feeling, all damn morning.
Deep, calming breaths Britain,I tell myself. The low stone fences of The Hamilton Academy begin breaking through my line of sight and I know I’m getting close. I send out a silent prayer as I drive up to the main gate:Please let today be gentle on me. Please, please, please. Oh, and please let Caroline’s team win…Oh! and please let Summer have a massive pimple on her nose.
As per usual in the DMV, the weather turned overnight and we are being gifted a 70 degree day with clear skies. It made the drive out to the girls’ school absolutely stunning. Bright green hills surrounding both sides of the road. The vivid, blue sky, dotted sparsely with a few puffy white clouds. All the charming, historical buildings in Middleburg. All of it was just beautiful. And it would have been a relaxing, enjoyable drive if not for the foreboding doom that has enveloped me.
Pulling up to the sports complex on the backside of the campus, I can’t help my quick perusal of the parking lot for a familiar car. My chest deflates in relief as I release the breath I didn’t know I was holding. I don’t see his Mercedes CLS.Good. I need a couple of minutes to psych myself up for this.
I’ve met Summer before, but back then, she was just an executive assistant at the office,my office. She probably ordered the flowers Damian sent me on our anniversary. In which case, I hate to admit, she’s got good taste.Of course she does.
I flip down the visor to do a last once-over in the mirror.No mascara smeared on my now hooded lids, check. Foundation is blended into my neck and looks natural, check. My golden blonde locks haven’t turned frizzy, thank god, and I’m overall having a good hair day. Actually, it’s a GREAT hair day. My hair always hits a perfectly blended, highlighted mix about two weeks after I get it done and I’m just about there.
I take a glance down at my outfit as well. The Reformation sundress Jess picked out fits like a fucking glove. My breasts look fantastic. Well, fantastic for a 35-year-old mom of two who's never had breast augmentation. My phone pings, startling me.
Jess
Open the note. Read the affirmations. Believe. You got this girl.
Britain
Thanks love, I’ll do them now.
Yesterday, Jess wouldn’t let me leave the restaurant until I came up with 25 compliments and affirmations to tell myself before I embarked on this day.“Positive self-talk is so powerful. How are you going to be a hot, bad-ass bitch if you don’t believe you are one?!”
Here goes nothing. I look down at the list on my phone, then back at myself in the mirror and recite:
“I have beautiful bone structure. I am intelligent. I am a loving mother. I am a lady in the street, and a freak in the sheets.” I burst out laughing. The list was definitely composed three margaritas deep.
I nearly screech as a gentle knock sounds on my car window. I turn to see blue eyes, topped with copper hair, and that strong jaw bone I’d know anywhere. Damian’s looking at me like I’ve lost my marbles.Fuck. How long has he been standing there? I roll down the window.
“How long have you been standing there?” I brace myself for impact.
“Long enough.” He laughs back his response. I remember myself and frantically scan behind him, foryou know who, but all I’m met with is another male body. My father-in-law looks at me kindly, offering a gentle wave. I roll up the window, turn off the engine, and exit my car.
“Kind of dressy for a softball game, Brit,” Damian wagers at me. I roll my eyes.Jerk.
