He laughed. “Really.”
“Yeah. Just call each other from the next room.”
“We could get cell phones,” he said.
“Brilliant idea,” she agreed. “But you have to promise to answer yours.”
“Why wouldn’t I answer?”
“I don’t know.”
“And then,” he said, “when you got too cold for me to keep you warm—which would be too soon, because you’re spoiled by the sun—I’d take you back inside. And we’d shake off the snow and leave our wet boots in the mudroom.”
“Why’s it called a mudroom?”
“Because it’s the room where you take off your muddy things.”
“I love that your house plans for you to get muddy. Like it’s in the architecture.”
“And then I’d follow you back downstairs. . . . And you’d still be so cold. And your pajama pants would be wet. Your face would be flushed, your cheeks would be numb.”
“That sounds dangerous,” she said.
“It’s not dangerous. It’s normal. It’s nice.”
“Hmm.”
“And I wouldn’t be able to stop touching you,” Neal said, “because I’ve never touched you cold.”
“You’re hung up on the cold.”
His voice dipped into a rumble. “I’m hung up on you.”
“Don’t talk like that,” Georgie whispered.
“Like what?”
“That voice.”
“What voice?” he rumbled.
“You know what voice. Your Would you like me to seduce you? voice.”
“I have a Mrs. Robinson voice?”
“Yes,” she said. “You’re a minx.”
“Why can’t I seduce you, Georgie? You’re my girlfriend.”
She swallowed. “Yeah, but I’m sleeping in my childhood bedroom.”
“Georgie. I’ve had my way with you in that childhood bedroom. Just last week, in fact.”
“Yeah, but you’re in your childhood bedroom.” And you’re actually, practically your childhood self. Georgie couldn’t talk dirty with this Neal. It would be like cheating on her Neal—wouldn’t it?
“Have you blacked out all of last summer?” he asked.
She smiled and looked away, even though he couldn’t see her. “The Summer of Spectacular Phone Sex,” she said. Of course she remembered the Summer of Spectacular Phone Sex.
“Exactly,” he said. “The Summer of Conjugal Long Distance.”
Georgie had forgotten that nickname. It made her laugh. “No. I haven’t forgotten.”
“Is something wrong?”
“I can’t have spectacular phone sex with you.” I haven’t had phone sex for fifteen years. “I’m wearing my mother’s lingerie.”
Neal laughed. Genuinely. Out loud, which almost never happened. “If you’re trying to turn me on, I have to tell you, sweets, it’s not working.” “I’m actually wearing my mother’s lingerie,” Georgie said. “It’s a long story. I didn’t have anything else to wear.”
She could hear him smiling, even before he started talking. “Well, Christ, Georgie—take it off.”
Neal.
Neal, Neal, Neal.
“I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“No,” she said, “just stay.”
“I’m falling asleep.” He breathed a laugh. It sounded muffled. She could picture his face in the pillow, the phone resting on his ear—she was imagining a cell phone. Wrong.
“That’s okay,” she said.
“I might be asleep already,” he murmured.
“I don’t mind. It’s nice. I’ll fall asleep, too. Just set the phone close, so I can hear you wake up.”
“And then I’ll explain to my dad that I was on a long distance call for ten hours because sleeping on the phone seemed romantic at the time.”
God. Long distance. Georgie had forgotten about long distance—did that still exist? “It would be romantic, though,” she said. “Like waking up in each other’s heads.”
“I’ll call you when I wake up.”
“Don’t call me,” she said. “I’ll call you.”
He snorted a little.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” she said. “But seriously: Don’t call me, I’ll call you.”
“Okay, you call me, sunshine. Call me as soon as you wake up.”
“I love you,” Georgie said. “I love you like this.”
“Asleep?”
“Unlocked,” she said. And then, “Neal?”
“Call me before you get dressed,” he said.
She laughed. “I love you.”
“Love you, too.” His voice was a slur.
“I miss you,” she said.
He didn’t answer.
Georgie felt her own eyes closing. The receiver slid along her cheek—she clutched it, lifting it back up. “Neal?”
“Mmm.”
“I miss you.”
“Just a few more days,” he mumbled.
“Good night, Neal.”
“Good night, sweetheart.”
Georgie waited for him to hang up, then set the receiver on its hooks and slid partway off the mattress to put the phone back on the nightstand.
MONDAY
DECEMBER 23, 2013
CHAPTER 19
The first time Georgie woke up, it was just after dawn, and it was because she wasn’t wearing pants. Which was alarming at first. And then funny. And then she pulled the covers up over her head and tried to go back to sleep. Because it felt like she’d been dreaming, dreaming something good, and like maybe she’d be able to get back to it if she didn’t completely open her eyes.
She fell asleep thinking that she couldn’t remember the last time she felt so warm—and that maybe “warm” was the same as “in love”—and obviously she was in love with Neal, she’d always been in love with Neal, but when was the last time she’d talked to him for six hours, just talked to him? Just him, just her. Maybe this was the last time, she thought. And then she fell back to sleep.
The second time Georgie woke up, it was because somebody was shouting. Two somebodies were shouting. And banging on her bedroom door.
“Georgie! I’m coming in!” Was that Seth?
“Georgie, he’s not coming in!” And Heather . . .
Georgie opened her eyes. The door opened and immediately slammed shut.
“Fuck, Heather,” Seth whined. “That was my finger.”
Georgie sat up. She was wearing her mom’s skimpy tank top. Clothes, she needed clothes. She spotted Neal’s T-shirt on the floor and made a desperate grab for it, yanking it over her head.
“I can’t just let you waltz into my sister’s bedroom!” Heather shouted.
“Are you protecting her honor? Because that ship has sailed.”
“It hasn’t sailed. He’s just visiting his mom.”
“What?” Seth sounded winded. The door opened, and he spotted Georgie before it slammed shut again. “Georgie!”
The door flew back open, and Seth and Heather fell in, practically on top of each other.
“Oh my God,” Georgie said. “Get off my sister.”
Heather was pulling at the neck of Seth’s sweater.
“Tell her to get off me,” he said.
“Get off!” Georgie shouted. “This is like a nightmare I haven’t even had yet.”
Heather let go and stood up, folding her arms. She looked as suspicious of Georgie as she did of Seth. “I answered the front door, and he ran past me.”
Seth straightened his cuffs furiously, glaring at Georgie. “I knew you were here.”