“I think it might be.”
“I’m not you. I can’t just . . . take what I want. And Mom’s here, and she’ll figure out that I’m gay—”
“She’s gonna figure it out anyway. She won’t care.”
“Eventually she won’t care. I’ll tell her eventually. Just, not while I’m living here. I don’t want to, it’s not worth it—none of this is worth it. I mean, what? I humiliate myself? And freak out Mom, and probably get hurt . . . And just ruin everything for the chance that maybe I’m supposed to be with this girl I don’t even know?”
“Yes,” Georgie said. “That’s how it works. Exactly.”
Heather folded her arms. “Oh, you don’t know how it works—you told me so yourself. And that’s after spending your whole life trying to figure it out. It’s not worth it.”
Georgie couldn’t stop shaking her head. “Oh my God, Heather—forget what I said. Don’t listen to me. Why would you listen to me? Of course it’s worth it.”
“But it’s not even anything,” Heather said, glancing miserably at the door. “It’s just a chance.”
“The chance to be happy.”
“Or the chance to be heartbroken, like you?”
“The chance to be alive. To be . . . Heather, forget everything I said before. It’s worth it. Do you think I wouldn’t risk everything to bring Neal to that door right now? That’s how it works. You keep risking everything. And you keep hoping you can keep him from walking away.”
“Her.”
“Whoever. Jesus.”
The doorbell rang, and they both turned. After a second, the door opened, and Alison stepped carefully through, pushing her long bangs out of her eyes. “Sorry,” she said. “I thought everybody might still be out back—I think I left my keys on the dryer. . . .”
“I’ll get them,” Georgie said before either of the girls could say anything more. “I’ll be right back.” She squeezed Heather’s arm on the way to the laundry room, then sat down next her mom, pointing out which puppy was hers.
She left Alison’s keys sitting on top of the dryer.
CHAPTER 26
Georgie’s mom lent her another pair of velour pants. And a T-shirt that said PINK.
Heather lent Alison a DECA T-shirt that hung too wide around the other girl’s neck.
They made a new nest for the dogs next to the Christmas tree, and Georgie’s mom decided that she and Kendrick couldn’t go to San Diego for Christmas and leave the puppies alone. “I guess we’ll keep you company, Georgie.”
Everyone agreed that Alison couldn’t just go back to work, not after everything. She spent ten tense minutes on the phone, trying to explain the situation to Angelo.
“Did you get fired?” Heather asked when Alison walked back into the living room.
Alison shrugged. “I’m going back to Berkeley next week, anyway.”
On the bright side, she had three large pizzas in the back of her car, plus an order of lasagna, some very cold fried mushrooms, and a dozen parmesan bread twists.
“God bless us, every one,” Georgie said, cracking open one of the boxes.
Fortunately for Heather, their mom only had eyes for the puppies and didn’t even notice Heather and Alison on the couch, giggling at each other with cheeks full of pizza.
Georgie herself was three giant slices in when the phone rang in the kitchen. The landline.
Heather looked at Georgie, and Georgie dropped her pizza, practically stepping on Porky on her way to the phone.
She got there on the third ring. “Hello?”
“Hey,” Neal said. “It’s me.”
“Hey,” Georgie said.
Heather was standing behind her. She held out her hand. “Take it in your room,” she said. “I’ll hang it up.”
“Neal?” Georgie said into the phone.
“Yeah?”
“Just a minute, okay? Don’t go anywhere. Are you going anywhere?”
“No.”
Heather was still reaching for the phone; Georgie held the receiver against her chest. “Promise me you won’t talk to him,” she whispered.
Heather put her hand on the receiver and nodded.
“On Alice and Noomi’s lives,” Georgie said.
Heather nodded again.
Georgie let go of the phone and ran down the hall. Her hands were trembling when she picked up the yellow phone. (That never used to happen to her when she was upset; she was probably pre-diabetic.)
“Got it,” she said. She heard the kitchen phone click. “Neal?”
“Still here.”
Georgie sank onto the floor. “Me, too.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” Georgie said, “yeah. I’ve just had the weirdest day. Plus, I guess I . . . I didn’t think you were going to call back.”
“I said I would.”
“I know, but . . . you were angry.”
“I—” Neal stopped and started his sentence again. “We ended up staying with my aunt for a while. It was hard to leave. She was really happy to see us, so we stayed for dinner at the nursing home. And that was depressing and kind of gross, so we went to Bonanza on the way home.”
“What’s a Bonanza?”
“It’s like a cafeteria-buffet-steakhouse thing.”
“Is everything in Nebraska named after Westerns?”
“I guess so,” he said.
“I’ll bet your Italian restaurants are named after Sergio Leone movies.”
“What made your day so weird?”
Georgie started laughing. It sounded like a laugh played backwards.
“Georgie?”
“Sorry. It’s just . . .” What made her day so weird? “I delivered three puppies and found out that Heather is gay.”
“What? Oh—for a second, there, I thought you were talking about your sister. Your cousin is gay?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Georgie said.
“How did you deliver puppies? Whose puppies?”
“That doesn’t matter either. But I think we’re keeping one.”
“‘We’—you and your mom? Or ‘we,’ we?”
“We, we, we,” Georgie said. “All the way home.”
“Georgie?”
“Sorry.”
“You delivered puppies?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“What do you want to talk about?”
“I don’t know. I need another second.” Georgie pulled the phone away from her ear and dropped it on the carpet. At some point, she’d started breathing like Heather during the pug emergency. Georgie smoothed her hair back and redid her ponytail, taking off her glasses and rubbing her eyes.
This is it, Georgie, get back in the game.
No, this wasn’t a game. It was her life. Her ridiculous life.
It doesn’t matter what you say now, she told herself. Neal’s going to propose on Christmas. He already did. He said, “We’ll make our own enough.” It’s fate.
Unless . . .
Unless it wasn’t. Maybe Neal had just said that “enough” thing because it was on his mind that day, not because of their phone calls. Had he given Georgie any other clues over the years that these conversations happened? (This would be easier to figure out if Neal were the sort of guy who ever gave away clues.)
This was Georgie’s last chance to talk to Neal before he left for California. Her last chance to make sure he left—what was she supposed to say?
She took a deep breath, in, then pushed it, out. Then picked up the phone.
“Neal?”