I’ve not always welcomed Georgette back with open arms after her absences.
One night I opened the door to find Georgette standing on my porch dressed lightly in a skirt, blouse, windbreaker, and purple canvas shoes with two feet of snow in the yard behind her. A thumb was hooked under a strap of a backpack, the only physical baggage she had with her.
She fixed her black eyes on me, refusing–as always–to speak first. The moment froze as hard as that year’s winter.
“You always call ahead,” I said.
“I didn’t have time.”
“I don’t either.”
“You don’t what either?”
“Have time.” Her eyebrows furrowed before I added, “For you.”
“Why not?”
“You know why not.”
Georgette looked up the road into the darkness. She squeezed and opened the hand hanging at her side.
“Just give me a lift back to town then.”
***
The roads were newly iced over, so I drove slowly, making the silence all the longer, all the more palpable. Georgette sat small and distantly in the passenger’s seat; my other Georgette’s spare winter coat hung loosely over her shoulders. It was much too large for her which only increased the caricature of her smallness.
“Drop me at the motel at the edge of town. I can manage from there.”
I drove past the motel and took her to a nice hotel downtown.
“I can’t afford this place.”
“I’ll pay.”
***
“How many nights?” the clerk asked. He was tall, thin, and young, in an ill-fitting maroon uniform.
“One,” Georgette said.
“Double?”
“Single,” we said in unison.
While the clerk processed my payment, Georgette asked, “When is the shuttle to the airport?”
The clerk and I both stared at her. Him because he was slow to answer unexpected questions. Me because I knew she knew better.
The clerk said, “You have to take the bus up to the freeway and over to Northaven where you can catch the shuttle.”
Georgette nodded curtly.
I fought back an impulse to ask if she could afford the flight. I didn’t need to appear over-concerned, and she always visited me with an open return ticket. She would manage.
I handed Georgette a hundred dollar bill, and when she hesitated I said, “For the bus.”
She took it, and the clerk winked at me.
***
I drove home even slower than I had driven to town. The silence grew still longer, but less palpable–more ethereal–as whorls of gritty snow danced briskly across the road.
The last I had seen of Georgette she was helping the clerk up off the floor and inspecting the sudden redness and swelling around the eye that had winked at me. I’m no different than you. I too abhor violence–except when it’s strictly necessary. Or when it’s useful. Or when it just plain makes me feel better.
Georgette had stiffened her back against me, and I didn’t wait around for elaborate editorials on her part.
***
Six years passed before Georgette stood on my porch again. The summer sunshine was more suitable to her light outfit of skirt, blouse, windbreaker, and purple canvas shoes, but she also had more baggage.
She had taken the time to call ahead, and I had the time to let her in, because by then she was my last remaining Georgette.
<< Story #12 | Index of Stories| Story #14 >>
Originally published December 7, 2020
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Laughing! “She also had more baggage.” 🤣
😀
Sounds like a complicated woman. It’s very deft writing. Relatable. A very gritty texture to the story. 🙏
Thanks!
He is an extraordinarily patient guy (with Georgette at least), but I think I’d have punched the sleazy clerk too. :D
He deserved it!
The nerve of that guy!
I love the Georgette stories!
How she’s, always going to, haunt you, and, you can’t, get, away…
Agonizingly beautiful writing as always. I’ve been in Georgette’s shoes many times in my life, but I certainly never asked for a ride! Heck, knowing me, I probably didn’t even knock. 😎
As soon as I see a Georgette post, I open it.
Thank you for liking my post 😀
Georgette sounds like my first wife. Seasonal personalities. She blew her brains out living in a postcard in Southern California. Georgettes.
Thank you for visiting my blog and liking the posts. Have a great day! (Yun from CCMOA.Original)
King but I hear after you liked one of my posts; perhaps I suddenly remembered you like more than one thought I should follow the check your blog link. loved the Georgette at the top of the blog. will be back to me more
I love this story 😍
I’m enjoying following this relationship with all its unexpected events.
Enjoyable alway here
That was a nice story of enduring love.
Beautifully articulated piece. The story gripped me to the end.
Very nice.
Oh my Gosh this was honestly so good