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12

Georgia

Now

A uden is sitting on one of the barstools in the kitchen, eating a plate of french toast and strawberries, when I finally make my way downstairs. Ian and Mrs. Foster are nowhere to be found. But there is an extra covered plate next to Auden.

“Where’d everyone go?” I ask her, setting my mom’s diary down on the countertop before pulling an empty stool out and taking a seat next to her.

She slides the extra plate over to me, taking another huge bite of her french toast. “Ian said Papa needed help. I don’t know where the other lady went,” she says with her mouth full.

I tsk under my breath. “Auden, her name is Mrs. Foster, not ‘the other lady,’” I correct before taking a bite of my own breakfast. “Also, it’s rude to talk with your mouth full,” I mumble through my own full mouth of food, looking sideways at her with a smile.

“Bit of a pot-kettle situation we have here,” Ian muses, greeting me with a smile and a wink for Auden. His dark hair is damp after his morning shower. His white button-up shirt fits snugly against his chest, and he has the sleeves rolled so his forearms are on full display. Dark jeans sit low on his hips as I marvel at him. “That whole ‘like mother, like daughter’ thing makes total sense now,” he jokes, grabbing one of the empty stools and dragging it behind him to the other side of the bar.

I can’t take my eyes off of him as he reaches over, grabbing the fork I must have abandoned on my plate sometime between him walking through the door and me checking out his perfectly sculpted ass when he grabbed the stool. He spears a piece of my toast, making sure to get a strawberry as well, before bringing my fork to his mouth.

Auden giggles loudly when he makes a loud noise of approval from across the two of us. “Hey, that’s supposed to be my mom’s, remember? You also forgot to get her coffee.” Her sass has no bounds, but Ian seems to enjoy it because he laughs loudly. One of those big belly laughs that make your sides hurt.

He’s still laughing when he stands to pour us both a cup of coffee, making sure to add the coconut creamer into both mugs before sliding my cup across the counter to me.

“Thank you,” Auden says politely to Ian. “Mama is kind of cranky without her morning coffee.”

Ian laughs into his cup. “Don’t I know it,” he jokes, blowing into his cup before risking a sip. His face contorts in disgust as he spits the coffee back into the mug. “Yeah, that’s a big no. G, don’t drink that. I think the creamer’s gone bad or something.” He reaches over and takes my cup from the countertop, dumping both of them in the sink.

“I actually meant to clean the pot out yesterday, but the night got away from me...” My words fail me as I look over at Ian. I bring a hand to my face, touching my lips gently, remembering the feeling of his mouth on mine last night.

Then I remember the way I yelled at him, then hours later fell asleep in the safety of his arms.

“Mommy, I’m all done.” Auden’s voice punctures the awkward silence that I cast into the kitchen. “Can I go play with your old dolls until we are ready to go to the lake?”

“Of course, sweetie. I’ll come get you when it’s time.”

Ian and I both watch her skip out of the kitchen, listening to her steps stomping loudly on the stairs.

He’s leaning against the countertop next to me, his hands crossed over his chest as he watches me clean the few dishes in the sink.

“Do you know where your mom keeps the vinegar?” I ask him, pulling the coffee maker toward me and emptying the reservoir. “I need to run a few cycles through here to get that disgusting taste out so I can enjoy one damn cup of coffee in this place.” I slam the appliance down on the counter, the lack of caffeine and sleep finally hitting me.

Ian starts looking through the cabinets, checking behind all the boxes of food and in the pantry. “I don’t think we have any, but I’ll grab some while I’m out today.”

I groan in frustration, and Ian shoots an amused look at me. “I know I’m being a brat, but this is day three of no coffee, and I feel like I’m going to fall apart if I don’t get something with caffeine in my body immediately.”

“Do you think Auden will be okay up there if we disappear for ten minutes?”

“Depends...what do you have in mind?” I ask, my insides turning to liquid as he looks at me with that heated gaze from under those dark lashes.

“Get your minds out of the gutter.” Mrs. Foster comes into the kitchen in a bright green maxi dress. Her white apron is wrapped snugly around her hips, and she tsks repeatedly under her breath at us. “What’s the matter with the coffee pot?”

Ian greets his mother with a quick kiss on the cheek. “Good morning, Mom.” I don’t miss the way she shrugs his touch off or the defeat in his shoulders because of it. He rubs a nervous hand through his hair, pointedly avoiding my gaze. “As for the coffee pot, something in the coffee tastes off. We were about to go grab a cup from the house and then take Auden to the lake to play for a bit,” Ian tells Mrs. Foster as she busies herself with putting the coffeemaker back in place.

Mrs. Foster freezes, dropping the coffee pot on the counter, causing it to shatter everywhere.

“Mom?” Ian rushes to her side, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay?”

She shakes her head harshly, tugging her shoulder out of his grip. “Don’t take that little girl to the lake, Ian,” she whispers. “Please don’t take her there.” Her shoulders slump, and she starts crying silently in front of us.

Of course. The lake would trigger her. Her daughter died in that lake, and there’s no timeline for grief.

“Mrs—Lydia, I’m so sorry. Of course we won’t go there. I don’t know what we were thinking. Why don’t you head home and relax? Ian and I can clean this mess up.” I grip her shoulders gently, tugging her into a hug as she cries harder into my chest.

“I can’t watch another little girl die in that lake, Georgia. I can’t. I miss her so much, every day,” she cries. “Auden reminds me so much of her. Of my Ire—” She gasps. “The day she stepped into this kitchen and I laid eyes on her, I thought for a moment my sweet girl was back.”

My eyes meet Ian’s over his mother’s shoulder. I can see the heartbreak on his face, making my own heart crack for what I took from this family.

I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t be the one comforting this woman.

Especially because I’m the one that took everything from her.

Tears well in my eyes as I stare at Ian. There is so much he doesn’t know, so much he will hate me for when he finds out.

“Come on, Mom. Let me walk you home,” Ian says gently, taking her from my arms and steering her toward the back door. “We’ll talk later, Georgie. Okay?”

I nod my head at him, giving him a sad smile in return.

Before I go fetch Auden, I should clean this mess up. I grab the broom from the closet and sweep up the glass shards from the coffee pot. I guess I’ll take Auden into town and grab a new coffee maker sometime this afternoon.

As I wipe off the counters, I can’t help but wonder what Mrs. Foster would think of me if she knew I was the one responsible for her little girl’s death.

The thought leaves me in chills, and all I want to do is hold my own little girl. Hold her close and never let her go.

M y footsteps echo loudly through the empty house as I run up the wooden stairs as quickly as I can. “Auden!” I shout for her. She appears at the top of the stairs, Horton content and calm in her arms as she pets his head. I pull them both into a hug, holding them close as Horton yowls in protest between us.

“I love you, Auden. So much. Never forget that, okay?” I tell her, my mother’s words from her diary echoing in my head.

“I love you, Mama. With my whole body,” she responds. I pull back and give her a questioning look. “My body is bigger than my heart, and I love you that much.” She giggles, releasing the angry Horton finally. “Can we go to the lake later? I want to keep playing,” she says as she’s already heading back into her room.

“How about we go into town for milkshakes instead?” I can’t bear to let her near the lake after everything that happened with Mrs. Foster. I’m sort of surprised that Ian even suggested it in the first place. “Just stay and play until I come get you, okay?”

“Okay, Mommy. Love you!” she yells, then closes her door with a loud click.

I drop my body onto the first step. Tears of frustration and stress build behind my eyes, making my face prickle while I take deep breaths, trying to calm my stupid racing heart. Even though Irene’s death was ruled an accident by the cops when her body was found floating in the lake—nobody knows that it was because of me.

Before the dam in my heart completely breaks open and I let the magnitude of my past actions overwhelm me, I hear glass breaking from down the hall, followed by a loud thump.

“Dad?” I whisper under my breath. I jump up and run down the hall toward his bedroom.

I knock softly and place my ear against the door. I don’t hear anything, so I knock again, a little louder this time. “Dad, are you in there?”

I hear a loud crash from inside the bedroom, and I throw open the door.

The gasp that leaves my lips sounds inhuman, and my heart stops in my chest at what I see.

My father’s body is lying at a bent angle in the middle of the bedroom floor, a broken teacup sitting next to his outstretched hand. And my mother’s ghost is standing over him.

“Daddy?” My voice shakes as I look from one parent to the other. I risk a step forward, and as my foot hits the soft padding of the cream carpet, the door slams shut behind me. I turn in horror as I stare at the closed door, grabbing the handle and pulling with all my strength, but the door won’t budge.

I take a shaky breath before forcing my body to turn back toward my parents. A blood-curdling scream leaves my mouth when I come face to face with my mother. Her face is mere inches from mine as she stares at me with her bloodshot eyes.

She opens her mouth, revealing those yellow-stained teeth and more white foam. “Don’t trust...don’t trust...protect,” she moans out as she points toward the bedroom door.

My body shakes uncontrollably as I continue to be stuck in her throes. I open my mouth, then shut it again. My teeth slam together furiously as I try to force myself to say something. Anything.

“Don’t trust . . . don’t trust . . . protect . . .” she moans again.

My tongue feels heavy against the roof of my mouth. “Don’t trust who?” I finally manage to blurt out. My mother continues to stare at me, her head cocked sideways as if she’s thinking. “Don’t trust who, Mom? Is any of this real?” I yell out, nearly biting my tongue off due to my teeth still shaking ferociously.

She looks down at my father’s unconscious body. “Don’t trust . . . don’t trust . . . protect . . .”

I glance over my shoulder when I hear a loud knock from behind me, and when I look back, she’s gone.

My knees buckle, and I fall to the floor painfully.

“Mr. Harris?” Ian’s voice echoes from the other side of the door. “Lincoln?” Ian knocks again.

Dad.

“Dad!” I scream, crawling over to him as Ian throws open the door.

“Oh shit,” Ian says before dropping to the floor next to us and grabbing my father’s wrist, checking his pulse. He looks straight at me as he mutters numbers to himself. “What happened?” he asks as he pulls a small flashlight out of his pocket, using it to check my father’s eye response.

I fall back, slamming my tailbone into the carpet while wrapping my arms around my knees. “It was her. It was her. It was her.”

The world melts away. Ian is talking, but there’s no sound. My eyes are fixed on my father as I rock back and forth.

Warm hands cup my face. “Eyes on me, Georgie. Breathe, baby. Just breathe.”

I watch him as he takes a deep breath and exhales it a moment later. I close my eyes and copy him, breathing in and out until I’m back in control of my body. When I open my eyes, his hazel-colored galaxies are the only thing I see.

A lifeline in the riptide of terror.

“That’s it. Deep breath,” he repeats and places his forehead against mine, his hands still cupping my face gently. I reach up and put my hands over his, our fingers intertwining. “You’re okay. I’m here.”

I’m safe. He’s here. I’m safe.

“My dad, Ian!” I gasp, ripping my hands out of his. I rush past him and kneel next to my father. I reach out to touch him, then stop, chastising myself. I don’t know how to comfort my own father.

“The ambulance is on the way. He’s going to be okay.” Ian’s voice is gentle and reassuring as he kneels beside me. I focus on the steady rise and fall of my dad’s chest; watching him breathe calms something in me.

I can’t lose him, too.

This house isn’t allowed to take another person I love.