“Have you forgiven your dad?” I ask, searching his eyes.
I’ve met George’s father only twice. Like George’s mother,Beau was a successful architect, but he had a gambling problem and it spun out of control after Lily died. He showed up to the Big House one day when we were sixteen. George stormed out as soon as he saw him standing on the doorstep with a black eye, but I stayed behind and spied from the hallway. I listened as Beau told Mimi about a recent run of bad luck. He just needed a little financial boost to get back on track and then he’d come for George. I peered around the corner as Mimi wrote him a check and told her son to get out. And then I listened to Mimi cry. I’ve never told George what I overheard.
George and I were living in Toronto the last time we saw his dad. After that visit, George started speaking about him in the past tense, as if he were dead.
“I’m working on it,” George says now. “I spend a lot of time talking about him in therapy. I’d like to accept that he wasn’t able to care for me after my mother died, that he didn’t put me first and caused harm with his choices. I think he tried his best when I went to live with him in Montreal, but his grief and the gambling didn’t leave room for him to be a good parent. There’s a lot to unravel…” He swallows. “But I don’t want to operate from a place of hurt. I want to leave space for the good memories.”
“He’s the one who lost out. You know that now, right?”
“I know it rationally speaking,” he says. “I’m still trying tofeelthat it’s true.”
“What about your mom?” I ask. “Do you talk about her, too?” It’s difficult for George to speak about Lily without his throat catching, but he keeps a photo of her in his wallet. She’s holding a young, beaming George by the hands, spinning himin a circle, his feet off the ground. George resembles his dad, but his smile—his real smile—is just like his mom’s.
“Yeah. It’s harder, though. Whenever I talk about her, I feel like I’m losing her all over again.”
“She was lucky,” I tell him. “She was so lucky to have you.”
He swallows again. And it takes everything in me not to reach for him.
“I wish you could have met her.” It’s not the first time he’s said it.
“So do I.” And I do, so badly. I want to tell her how perfect her son is, and how much we all love him. My entire family. It will never be enough to make up for what he’s lost, but I want to tell her how much I’ve tried.
“I wishshecould have metyou,” he says, holding my gaze. This is something new. The confession and the way he’s looking at me.
I take George’s hand in mine. I feel his heart beating in my palm. “Me too.”
We stare at each other for a moment longer, and then I let go.
• • •
I sit inthe hot tub’s bubbling water, my back to the villa, watching the ocean throw itself against the rocky point. Even though I can’t see George, he’s everywhere. On my lips, my tongue, my mind. We’ve had time and space to grow up and apart, but what if we were meant to come back to each other in a new way? What if we’re fighting something we shouldn’t?
There’s no one I enjoy spending time with more than George. There’s nobody who makes me feel as bold as George does. I amfully myself with him. And that kiss. Kissing George was like stepping inside a house I’d never seen but somehow knew was home. All the static in my head went quiet, as if I’d found the right frequency on a radio dial.
I text Aurora when George takes his turn in the hot tub.
Me:I kissed George.
Aurora:YOU DID WHAAAAT?
Me:Or maybe he kissed me? Either way, we definitely kissed.
Aurora:I’m calling right now, and you’re answering.
“This is not atext messageconversation,” Aurora says when I pick up. “This is acall your damn friend and leave no detail unaccountedforconversation.”
“I wasn’t sure if you were with a client.”
“Nope. I’ve got fifteen minutes until my next appointment, so you better start talking. Or is he nearby?”
“He’s outside in the hot tub.” We were awkward with each other when we passed in our bathing suits. How does one treat one’s lifelong best friend when she finds out he uses his tongue like it’s his fucking job?
“Why are you talking to me?” Aurora screeches. “This is yourBachelorhot tub date. Get out there.”
“George and I sort of agreed to forget about the kiss. I’m not sure seminudity and steam are wise.”
“Bah. Fine. Let’s back up. Tell me everything.”
