Page 35 of Georgia: Britain's Story: Part 1
So if I haven’t been leaving the rental, what have I been up to then? Mostly talking to the girls and Jess everyday, had a virtual session with Carla, but I’ve been reading your notebooks, too. Turns out you were quite an avid writer. I guess that’s what you were doing in your room all those nights. I’m curious to see if you wrote about my dad, or Alexander, but so far it’s mostly been excerpts about me. The steno pads weren’t packed in chronological order, so I’ve just been picking my way through the pile. I’m hoping to get some answers along the way.
Maybe you couldn’t talk about what happened with my father, so you wrote about it, and that was your final gift to me. Is that right? Here’s hoping! I might try and get crazy and go to the local bar here in Spearhead tonight. I’m getting tired of cooking meals for one every night. What else is new? Guess I’ll try writing again, when the mood hits.
-Britain
God, I feel so awkward writing in a diary. Not sure I’m going to dothatagain. My stomach growls and I grab my cardigan. There’s no reason I need to stay in the rental the rest of my stay. The roads are cleared, and even though there’s snow on the ground in spots, it’s not cold anymore. I head to the bedroom to get changed while I think about where to get food from tonight.
I still haven’t had Maggio’s, and pizza sounds delicious, but so does some bourbon on the rocks. I do feel a bit weird going back to Colton’s, though. What if I run into Sandy, or worse, her son? He hasn’t come home before nine once in the last week, so I feel like I should be safe. It’s 6:45, plenty of time to grab a drink and dinner and head back home.
I pull on jeans, a sweater tank top and matching cardigan, and mini Ugg boots. I don’t even bother with makeup, the bar has low lighting. I fortuitously blew my hair dry this morning, so all I add is a dash of perfume and head out the door grabbing my keys and phone.
I park at Colton’s, which has a surprising amount of cars in the parking lot.Shit, maybe this was a mistake. I’m not ready for a whole bunch of people. I thought it’d be dead on a Wednesday night. Time for some reinforcement. I flip down the visor and look in the mirror. I pull out my list of affirmations, and recite, “I smell like lilacs and baby cherubs. I am worthy of people’s attention. I am a wonderful conversationalist. I give great blow jobs, too.”Okay, that’s enough.
I walk into Colton’s, anddamn, it is a lot busier than last time. I guess everyone wanted to get out after the snow. I head straight for the bar top, noting most of the tables are filled. There’s two empty seats on the far end, and I snag one of them, feeling self conscious for some reason. Luckily, Rick walks over, instantly putting me at ease. He throws down a cocktail napkin the same suave way he did last time. “I was beginning to think we scared you away. Nice to see you again.” He has a slight accent, it’s country, but not twangy. I can’t place it.
“Hi, Rick. Not scared away, I’ve just been working on some stuff.” He answers me with a single nod in acknowledgment.
“Well, what can I get you, sweetheart?”
“Can I please have a Blanton’s on the rocks, and then I’ll take the special.”
He laughs, “You ever gonna ask what it is first?”
“Probably not, it’s how I live my life on the edge.” I say with a wink.
“Well you’re in luck, it’s roadkill pie.” He deadpans. I laugh.
“No, it’s not. And even if itwas, I’d at least be able to tell people about the one time I ate roadkill pie at a place called Colton’s, so bring it on.”
“You’re right, it’s not.” He doesn’t say anything else, just starts pouring my bourbon. I watch him as he works. He’s attractive, probably my age, sporting a man bun, and his forearms are covered in ink. I bet he’s good in bed. Too bad I’m not attracted to him. He honestly reminds me of Alexander. Both tanned with longer, light brown hair. The only difference is Alexander’s arms are ink-free and he sports a year-round beard.
I settle into my stool, looking around the place. Nearly every booth and table is full. It’s louder in here tonight, too, even though there’s no music on the jukebox. Nobody’s hanging around it putting something on either. I notice Sandy isn’t here tonight, which is a relief. I don’t know what I’d say to her.“Sorry I haven’t been back by the coffee shop. It’s just that I turned down your son because I’m pretty sure I’m not hot enough to date him, and I’m such a loser I get jealous over past flings, so it would never work out because I’m incapable of casual relationships, and that’s all it would ever be.”
I let loose a deep sigh and take my first sip of bourbon. The warmth is hitting just right, and I feel a tingle down my spine, an awareness. I look around and meet a pair of eyes across the bar. It’s Liam. He must have just come in. I would’ve noticed him here, and I definitely checked the parking lot for his car.
I shouldn’t, but I feel a bit stung that he chose the furthest possible spot from me when there’s literally an open stool beside mine. But that’s okay, he doesn’t have to sit by me. He’s probably moved on from whatever that night was a week ago. I’ll still be replaying that kiss in my head until I’m 50, but I’m sure it was just a dime a dozen for him.
I give him a half smile in acknowledgment and he immediately looks away, not returning the gesture. That’s okay, but fuck, polite much?Whatever. I told myself I was coming here to sit alone with my drink and some yummy food. Which will hopefully be here soon. I turn my head away from his direction. If indifference is what he’s about, I can do that, too.
I was trying not to be on my phone all night, but I feel helpless sitting here alone. I don’t really know Rick, and he’s busy anyways, not exactly available for chatting with a random bar guest and I’m surrounded on both sides by older couples. So, I guess I’ll sit here and read the news. That’s fine. This is fine.Everything’s fine.
Ten minutes later, Rick’s back, plate in hand.
“Alright, darling, tonight you’re having chicken milanese with an arugula salad and a side of garlic and herb angel hair.”
“Oh my god, this looks amazing.Thank you so much.”
“Another drink?”Oh, I look down and realize I’ve absentmindedly sipped away my whole glass while I was reading.
“Umm, best not. Have to drive. Can I just have a water, please?
“Coming right up.”
“Thanks,” I say, while giving him a smile, so happy to have my food.
There’s a presence at my side, and then a deep voice whispering in my ear, “He’s single, you should just ask him out.”Liam. I immediately turn to face him, my face instantly pink from his proximity and his words. He leans back away from my ear, standing at full height now. “I saw you checking him out while he made your drink, and the way you just lit up for him. I thought you might be wondering if he was single. Just trying to help out.”
He looks fucking mouth watering right now. His suit is expertly tailored and formed to his perfect body. He has a rocks glass in hand filled with what smells like bourbon, too, and one elbow is resting on the bar top. He's looking at me with indifference and cool nonchalance.Why the fuck is it turning me on so much?
