Page 156 of The Fall Classic

I look up to see Marlowe and my dad.

Shoot.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Georgie

“Dad! Marlowe. Hi. Hi, guys,” I say with no social graces whatsoever. “What are you two doing here?”

“You said you had a question about the shop,” Dad says, looking at the TV screen, where the Firebirds are once again at bat. Things are fine right now, but it’s going to be a test of the Firebirds’ bench strength if they can hold their lead without Coop and Jake in the game. “And because I passed all that on to Marlowe years ago, I figured I’d have her come fill in the blanks.”

If that doesn’t describe the last decade of my life in one sentence, I don’t know what does.

“Oh, uh⁠—”

“Who’s this?” Marlowe asks with a friendly smile.

“Uh,” I stammer, breaking out into a sweat. “This is Jane Carville and Kayla Carville-O’Shannan. Jane, Kayla, these are my …” I swallow, my brain processing the truth and the wish in the same heartbeat. The truth would be to say that this is my dad and his wife. The wish makes me say, “These are my parents, Raymond and Marlowe.”

“What a pleasure to meet you both,” Marlowe says, shaking their hands. Then her arm comes around my shoulders and she hugs me to her side. “I’m Georgiana’s stepmom,” she says, “But I love her like she’s my own.”

I love her like she’s my own.

Warmth spreads through me hearing her say this, and I lean slightly into her side, remembering, of all things, the day she rushed me to the emergency dentist. She stayed with me throughout the entire process, holding my hand on the stool next to the dentist chair while they extracted the tooth. She took a video of me all loopy on pain medicine, and when she played it back for Dad and me that next weekend, I was struck by how sweet and funny she was.

“You’re not going to float away, Georgiana,” she said when I told her I thought my head was a balloon.

“But I am!” I said. “My head is full of helium. Can’t you see it’s floating? I’m floating!”

And she just giggled patiently. “Your head is okay. And if it flies off, I’ll jump up and catch it for you.”

“Promise?”

“I promise, sweetie.”

“Thanks, Mama,” I said. “I love you.”

Her voice hitched then. “Of course, sweetie. I love you, too.”

I’ve been chasing those words and that feeling of acceptance and love since that day where she acted like a real mom to me, since that day where she loved me, not because my dad was around but because I was a young girl who needed love and she wanted to give it.

And now, here she is, hugging me in front of two women I respect so much, and she’s telling them she loves me.

I think about the papers in my backpack.

Maybe I don’t need them after all.

“Your daughter is a clever businesswoman,” Kayla is saying to my parents. “You two must be so proud.”

“We sure are,” my dad says.

“Of course we are. But what were you three talking about?” Marlowe asks. Her arm’s still around me, but she’s angling toward Jane and Kayla.

“That’s between us girls,” Jane says, tucking her papers and notes back into her bag with an easy smile.

“Well, if it concerns Meant to Bean, it definitely should include this girl.” Marlowe points to herself, still smiling, but her arm around me has gone still. “What did I miss?”

Jane looks from Marlowe to me. Kayla is staring at my dad, who’s watching the game.