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He was human garbage. An ironic thought flit through her mind. She was seventeen, and Naomie was home for a visit. It was Georgie’s task to take out the kitchen garbage after the evening meal.
“Okay, Georgie, get that trash out, and I’ll take care of the floor.”
“I’ll take the trash out,” Naomie offered.
“That works for me. Just get yourselves out of the kitchen.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Georgie replied with a grin and made a grab for the trash, but Naomie had already scooped the bag from the can.
They walked outside, and Georgie’s curiosity demanded satisfaction. “Why did you offer to do this?”
“Take out the trash?”
“Yeah.”
“Haven’t you figured it out yet, little sister?”
“Figured out what?”
“How life is like taking out the trash.”
“Excuse me?” Georgie thought that was the silliest thing she’d ever heard Naomie say.
“Trust me on this. This stuff in the bag, it’s an accumulation of things that have been going on all day, collecting things from the moments of the people who added to its contents.”
“You’re saying we collect garbage?” That made no sense.
“I’m saying we have already taken what’s valuable inside us. Food, water, love, kindness. Everything that’s of worth, we’ve made part of us. This stuff? This is just trash. Or leftovers. Leftovers are still of worth, and so are used to feed animals. What can’t be eaten is composted, and one day, all that decayed matter will have mixed from the grains of sand and dirt, the dead particles of plant matter, watered down, baked, frozen, or drowned. And then, it’s reintroduced back into the cycle of things.
“What is left after everything of worth has been used is just garbage, and who wants to tote that around.”
“Well, no one, but how is that…” it hit her, and she felt pretty dumb, which happened often when she was around Naomie. “Okay, I get it. If I carry around the trash of the past, all it does is weigh me down and anchor me to a reality that no longer exists, a reality I chose to leave. And why would I want to carry that around?”
“Well done,” Naomie hugged her. “Just remember, always take out the trash. Mental as well as physical. It’ll save you.”
Now, that memory provided Georgie with something she needed. She needed to be able to focus on her goal. If she had one dominant trait, it was the strength and endurance of her determination to achieve a goal. It didn’t matter how long it took or how difficult the journey was. If she set her mind to it, she would see it through.
She just had to take out the trash.
Thank you, Naomie, she thought as Josh turned toward the hospital parking deck.
Neither of them spoke as he parked. “Stay in the car until I open your door,” he instructed as he turned off the engine.
There it was again, that new habit he’d acquired along with his taste for violence. He liked to boss her around like a child. Even when he raped her.
And, oh shit, there it is.It hit her like a brick to the head. He’d always leaned toward that kink, and she’d gone along with it a couple of times but found it boring and restrictive.
He loved it. And she could use that.
Georgie tried not to let her revulsion weaken her. This wouldn’t be easy, and she wasn’t foolish enough to think there wouldn’t be a price, but she wouldn’t let that stop her.
She didn’t speak a word through the drive, parking the car, or walking from the parking deck to the hospital. She kept her gaze down, watching the floor a dozen feet ahead, purposely avoiding eye contact with anyone she passed.
They stopped at Riggs’ door, and Josh tapped on it. “Come in.” She heard Riggs’ voice call out.
Josh nudged her with his hand on her lower back, so she opened the door. The first thing she saw was Riggs sitting in his wheelchair, holding Robby. He looked at her with a smile forming, a smile that just as quickly faded when he saw Josh behind her.
Georgie felt like a fly stuck to adhesive. She was aware of the almost imperceptible hiss of the air coming through the ceiling vent, the baby cooing as he waved his arms, safe in Riggs’ arms. She felt Naomie and Russell’s gaze on her and wished she could do this without an audience.