The Four Corners of the Sky_ A Novel - Michael Malone [43]
The plump young woman tossed the wrapped gift onto the rug beside Annie, whose legs were now doing scissors, stretched in air over her head. “Here, will you open this? I’ve got to get back. Pitti Sing’s freaking out.”
“Hang on. Three more…”
Sliding off the bed, Georgette ripped open the wrapping paper herself. Inside was a tiny set of handsome miniature screwdrivers and pliers and wrenches, in a red leather case with Annie’s initials in gold, APG. “You know, for the girl who thinks she can fix everything.”
“Except her life,” smiled Annie, leaning over to kiss her friend’s head. “Perfect present.” She saw the little scar on Georgette’s knee, from the accident when they were eleven years old, and felt a twinge of the old guilt. She had taken Georgette for a ride on Sam’s silver Honda 125 (without Sam’s permission) and had skidded off a turn on River Hill Road, crashing into the underbrush below. Georgette still felt faintly queasy whenever she even saw a motorcycle. Annie’s broken collarbone had healed far sooner than her regret about endangering her friend.
Georgette pointed out the window at the rain. “And by the way, Brad was planning to surprise you by braving the storm and showing up tonight to propose.”
“What?”
“Not that you’re divorced. But he’ll never get out of Charleston, even in a Hopper jet. I better go. My mother’s going to call any minute to see if I’m dead.” Thunder cracked loudly and the lights went off and on. “Listen, don’t dig me out if the house falls in on me; let archeologists discover my skeleton in a thousand years and say, ‘God, she had great bones!’”
They walked together downstairs, in unison the way they’d done as children.
“Annie, about your dad? Maybe he’s dying, but at least you hadn’t seen him for decades.”
“That’s a comfort, Gigi.”
At the door Clark handed Georgette her raincoat. “If Jack’s dying, it’ll be the first time.”
Sam joined them in the hall. “Stop talking about it. Clark, you’d better go tape the windows. Georgette, stay here tonight.” Sam suggested they all watch a movie to get through the storm. “Les Diaboliques. Clouzot. I’ve got a great print.”
But Georgette moved to the door. “Isn’t that a movie about Lesbians that really aren’t Lesbians? I love you, Sam, but not that much. I like new movies.”
Sam said she liked old movies because she herself was old.
“Right. Old enough to be my mother,” agreed Georgette. “And as you know, I’ve always wished you were.”
“Only because I spoiled you.”
“Thank God.”
Sam noted that she had only told Georgette the same things she’d told Annie—that she was smart and strong and could do anything she wanted to do. That she was beautiful and lovable and someday she’d find the right someone to love her as she deserved.
Georgette let Sam help her into her raincoat. “You introduced me to high heels and Häagen-Dazs espresso ice cream. When Kim sided with Mr. Neubruck after he’d called the police on us about blasting out our Nirvana tape all night, you told Kim, ‘You were young once too.’ I’ll never forget that. Not that Kim ever was young.”
“Honey, your dad told me one night your mom sank a 30-foot putt at the golf course at midnight in her bra and panties.”
“Sam, you made that up.”
“Call me when you get home,” Sam urged. “I don’t like your being alone over there.”
“Neither do I.”
“You’ll find the One, Georgette.”
“That would be nice, just somebody to open jars.”
Sam shrugged. “You’ll find him. And he’s going to love you like nobody’s loved you.”
Georgette, laughing, asked Annie, “Why does Sam always sound like some awful soundtrack song?”
“Clark and I blame it on Jill.”
“Her old girlfriend?”
“Yeah, she ran off to Belize and can’t defend herself.”
Sam handed Georgette her yellow rain hat. “I’m serious. The two of you should drive up to Annapolis after the holiday. Georgette should meet this condo neighbor of yours, Trevor Smithwall. He’s an FBI analyst, Georgette, and an