Page 81 of Georgia: Britain's Story: Part 1
“Okay, love you.” “Will do, love you.”
“I love you both so much.” My voice cracks on the last word.
“Bye, Mom.”
“Bye, girls.” As soon as I end the call, I fall on the bed in a sob. On to Georgia’s bed. I can’t stay in my old room. It still wreaks of memories from the last time my heart was shattered. No, this time, it felt fitting to move into Georgia’s room. The irony isn’t lost on me.
If you would have asked me a month and a half ago where I’d see myself now, I would have told you on a plane back to Virginia. I would never, not ever, have guessed I’d be staying at Georgia’s house, in her room, pregnant, andalone.
I head to the bathroom, grabbing a roll of toilet paper before heading back to the bed. On my way, my eyes fall on her box. Sandy and Jim were kind enough to drop it off the day after I came home from the hospital. They’ve also checked in on me a couple times already. I know Sandy cares about me, but I don’t doubt for a minute she cares about her future grandchild more.
She’s going to make the best grandma someday. It’s a shame I won’t be around to see it. I had these visions of Sunday dinner at Sandy’s house. Liam and me showing up, and her reaching for the baby the moment we step foot in the house. I was picturing the girls learning how to make pastries from Jim, and Liam coddling my belly where another family member was growing. My throat burns and my chest gets tight over what are nothing more than foolish thoughts now.
It’s been four days since the last time I saw him and still no calls or texts. I haven’t even tried again, not since Alex called him from the hospital. He hasn’t shown up looking for me either. I try not to think about what he’s doing or where he’s at, but so far, I’ve been unsuccessful. On a Tuesday morning he could be at his house working out, or down at the office just getting into his day. Or maybe he’s lying in a ditch somewhere. I doubt that’s the case, though. Death would be too easy an ending for him and me. Death would be the easy way out, and I’ve learned life is crueler than that. No, no, dying is easy, it’s the ultimate escape. Living, that’s hard.
I grab a notebook before crawling back in bed. It’s the same one I’ve been reading out of since I learned about the night of my conception.
June 29, 1987
I had my doctor's appointment this morning, and they confirmed what I’d already feared. I’m pregnant, and without a doubt, it’s Ray’s child. I already knew that, though. Life has never been too kind to me, so I have to admit, I was expecting this. I don’t know how I’m going to tell you, so I probably won’t. I’ll just leave you my notebook at the end of the week like usual and you can read it yourself. I won’t be able to bear the look on your face. The pity.
I still can’t wrap my mind around how we went from nearly having it all to having nothing. What would have been our full house is now an empty one. Living here without you and Alexander is so painful, I can barely stand it most days.
I don’t even know why I’m still writing to you either. But you keep taking my notebooks, so I keep writing them even though I know we’ll never be. It’s a fool's errand, this habit. Part of me thinks it’s your punishment, though. I have to live this hell, so you have to read about it. You don’t get to just forget about me. That’s the only power I have left in this world, to exist.
Disappearing from your life would be easy. I could start over somewhere new, find a new man to love, but that would be too easy on you. No, I’ll keep showing up to work every day, living in the house you bought for us, writing to you every night so you can’t forget me. You won’t be able to forget the pain I carry either. I’d say in about 3 months, you’ll even have to witness it in real life. I’ll be growing with the baby that should have been ours, yours.
Maybe after you read my notebook this week and you see what I’m doing and why, you’ll stop taking them. But if I know you, you won’t stop. You’ll keep taking my notebooks because it’s all you’ll ever have of me.
Damn. I tried so hard to not be like her, but I guess in the end we really do become our parents. It’s what I was destined for. I’m sitting in the same house she was, pregnant, and alone. Except I’m not entirely alone, I have Alex.But he’s not Liam. No one is.
“Disappearing from your life would be easy,”runs through my mind on a loop. I reread part of her entry. “It’s your punishment…I have to live this hell, so you have to read about it. You don’t get to just forget about me. That’s the only power I have left in this world, to exist.”
Georgia was stronger than I ever gave her credit for. She stayed when I ran. She showed up when I cowered. All these years, I thought she was weak, pitiful, for never leaving this place. I thought doing the same thing, day in and day out, was pathetic. I never knew or understood the amount of will and inner power she had to have in order to do it, and she did. She fucking did it.
She raised the child who was a literal and physical representation of everything she lost. She showed up to work and faced the only thing she wanted, but could never have. She was right, disappearing is easy. And that’s what I do, it’s what I’ve done. I moved to D.C. I'm going back to Virginia, and never going back to Spearhead again. Unlike me, Georgia didn’t take the easy way out, she did the hard thing.
I’ve done hard things in my life, but I can’t say I’ve ever taken the hard route. The one that required strength. I always thought I was too weak to bear it. But I’m not, I can’t be anymore. And if Georgia could do it, I can, too. I have two young women and a baby who need me to be strong. If I couldn’t do it for myself in the past, I can do it for them now.
That’s all that matters anymore anyways. As long as the girls and the baby are good, I’ll be good.
“Hey, look at you, out of the house!” Alex talks to me like I’m a toddler taking their first steps. I basically am, relearning how to do life with part of my heart missing.
“Yep, I did it. Even showered, too.” Alex comes up to me, giving me his signature half hug. It feels good for a moment, before I think about the embraces Liam used to give me. My chest feels like it fractures at the memory.Stop it, Britain. You’re strong, you can do life without him.
Alex has been working in the backyard all week and I haven’t been outside since we got home from our Target and In-N-Out adventure post hospital. Maybe some vitamin D can help get me moving again. I send out a silent prayer.Please, help me get moving again. I check on what Alex is working on.
“I thought you were planning to sell this place?” I ask. “Planting a vegetable garden would imply you’ll be sticking around to tend to it.”
He heads back to the plot where Georgia used to work, slipping thick canvas gloves back on before answering me. “Yeah, well, you know what they say,make plans and god laughs.”Ain’t that the truth.
“Word,” is all I say to him, before taking a seat in one of Georgia’s peeling, plastic lawn chairs. “So then, what’s the new plan? Or is the new plan to not have a plan?”
He chuckles. “I feel like I could ask you the same thing.”
“You’re deflecting.”
“So are you,” is all he says.
