Page 82 of Georgia: Britain's Story: Part 1
“Fine, I have a plan forming, but I don’t know. I think it might sound kind of stupid if I say it out loud.”
“More stupid than me planting a vegetable garden at my late mother’s house?”
I move my head back and forth weighing his stupid versus mine. “Yeah, alright. I’m thinking about trying to move here. Not to Georgia’s house, but here.” I motion with my hand to the land around us.
“That doesn’t sound stupid, Brit.”
“Yeah, that’s not the stupid part. I think I’d be doing it as a sort of punishment forhim. By being happy, without him,here. By not just disappearing, and making it easy on him. I don’t know. I’d also be doing it as a way to stand my ground. Like why does he, why did Matthias, get to take this place away from me?” I’m having a hard time expressing what I mean. I think that probably just sounded really stupid. “I can’t move here full time, but some sort of part-time scenario, I don’t know. Haven’t figured it out yet and I need to talk to the girls and Damian about it first.”
“That’s not stupid. It takes a lot of strength to not run away from the pain, or the bad, or the memories that keep you up at night. I know that for a fact.” I wonder how much therapy he’s had over the years. At this point it’d probably be more cost effective for us to go in on hiring a live-in shrink, which reminds me,Carla. I’ve been avoiding her.
“So, what’s your plan?”Your turn, Alex.
He stops what he’s doing, “I think my plan is to not have a plan. I know the end result I want, but I don’t know how I’m gonna get there yet. I do know it’s never gonna happen if I keep hiding in the farthest corners of the world living out of tents, though. So, staying put for a little bit, that’s the plan.” I doubt he’d share what the end result is. I can take a couple guesses, though.
I nod in understanding. “I feel the same, I guess. I’d love to find peace with being alone in the end, I just haven’t figured out how to get there and I know I won’t find it if I keep running away from all my problems.”
“Still haven’t heard from him?”
“Nope.” I hate how I feel burned every time he asks me. And he asks, daily.
“Have you asked Matt about him?”
I tense up at the mention of Matt. “No. He’s texted me, but I haven’t responded. I don’t know, just doesn’t feel right to ask him about Liam.” I hate the way his name sounds coming out of my mouth. It feels like coating my tongue and lips with acid.
“Well, you could just ask him now.” Alex nods toward the open gate where a G Wagen has come to a stop in the driveway.Fuck. Alex just puts his head back down, focusing on his shovel and dirt and I make my way to the front path.
It’s like déjà vu. How many times did I wait out here for him? And now, here he is, like all the wishes I made when I was 18 finally came true. But it doesn’t feel like a dream realized anymore.
He steps out of the driver's seat, andchrist. I can’t help how attractive I still find him. He’s a 10 at 42, in the prime of his life, a physically astounding specimen, but somehow I’ve lost that spark I’d always felt for him in the past. Even when I was with Damian, I’d still get the feeling when I’d think of him.Liam’s ruined me.
He walks around to the passenger side, grabbing a tray of coffees and a box of pastries. I’d know that box anywhere.
“Oh my god, did you bring LaBoulangerie?” I can’t help the excitement. I guess food is the only thing that does it for me now.
“So now you’ll talk to me?” His tone is joking, putting me at ease.
“I’m sorry I haven’t responded. I’ve been meaning to, it’s just been a hard couple of days. This is, uh, actually my first time outside since I came home.”
“Well, by all means, don’t let me drag you back inside.” He heads straight for the bench sitting in the front of the house. He’s not exactly dressed for a day at the office this Friday morning. He’s wearing jeans and a t-shirt with Adidas Sambas, just like he used to. He’s still as cut now as he was at 25. His hair is thick and black, no grays in sight, and it’s just about long enough to touch the collar of his shirt. Such bullshit that men get better as they age.
The bench is shaded by eucalyptus trees and thankfully the temperature is still tolerable thanks to the mid-morning hour. He waits for me to sit first, then sets the tray of coffees and the box of pastries between us.
I motion to the drink tray. “Are we expecting more guests?”
“No, I, uh, don’t know how you take your coffee, so I brought a little bit of everything.” Yeah, can’t say I was a big coffee drinker at 18. “I have a decaf, because,” he motions down to the general region of my womb, making me blush. “I have an iced almond milk latte. I have just a good old-fashioned black coffee, and then an iced coffee with oat milk. What would you like?”
“I’ll have the almond milk latte, please. And, thank you. That was very thoughtful to think of the decaf, I’m just not strong enough to go cold turkey on caffeine.” He hands me my coffee with a smile before moving the tray to the other end of the bench. I don’t realize it until a moment later, but I’m smiling back. Smiling with Matthias is natural, but it doesn’t feel right, like I shouldn’t be happy with anyone else but Liam.
He opens the box next. “Well, Britain, I may not know your coffee order, but I do know this.” The box is filled with cinnamon buns. They’re perfectly glazed, buttery cinnamon buns.
“You remembered,” I say in disbelief.
“I still go there every Friday. That is, if I’m in town.”Wow. The bakery is right by the MS Group office and Georgia and I would go every Friday morning before school for a cinnamon bun.I can’t believe he does that. I don’t know what to say, so I just reach for a bun instead. I take a bite, andoh my gawd, it’s exactly how I remember.
Matthias laughs. “You still do that?”
My mouth is full of pastry, but I eek out between chewing, “Do what?”
