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“Will, do you have kids?” Georgie stuffed her camera in her bag. “I don’t think you’ve ever said.”
His chin dipped. “Things didn’t work out in that department.” Pressing his lips, Will glanced at the book from Georgie and held it against his plaid button-down. “But I have all of you, and for that, I’m grateful.”
“We cost way less, too,” joked Davis. “Emotionally, financially.”
“True. That’s why I can afford to buy your next round.” Scooping up the torn wrapping, Will headed back to the bar as the DJ segued from C+C Music Factory’s energetic hip house into the chunky bass and funky guitar of Sister Sledge’s “We Are Family”.
“OHH, BABY!” Georgie whooped, stealing a glance over her shoulder toward the dance floor. “Who’s with me?”
“Like you have to ask!” Stefanie grabbed Georgie’s hand and yanked her out of the booth. “Gotta make hay while we still have ya!”
The entire gang, spare slouchy Davis and bar-bound Randall, made a beeline for the dance floor. Georgie, Leesa, Kaitlin, Stefanie, and Michael formed a tight circle, draping their arms around each other’s shoulders while sing-shouting “We. Are. Fam-uh-lee!” Mid-sway, Leesa kissed Michael playfully on the temple, Kaitlin and Stefanie sang the song’s “uh-huh, uh-huhs”, and Georgie soaked up every shared smile and laugh, thinking THIS is home. It’s where I’m meant to be.
TWENTY-FIVE
GEORGIE
Eleven days later, Wednesday, November 25, 1992
Leafs record: 10 wins, 8 losses, 3 ties (in overtime)
Oliver laughed down the phone. “You’re a bad influence, Bug. I left the Strand with eight books.”
“Only eight? Lightweight.” Sat on the floor against her couch, Georgie smiled over the decimated remnants of an assorted cold cut Mr. Sub sandwich and the endless pile of marking splayed in front of her. She licked sub sauce off her finger and picked up the TV remote from her coffee table, lowering the volume on a Prince video. “I’m glad you’re having fun.”
“I am! I keep pinching myself. I saw Van Gogh’s Starry Night in person!”
“Gotta love the MoMA,” said Georgie.
“Guess where I am now?” he asked.
Honking car horns and the scrape of a skateboard in the background suggested he was tethered to a payphone outdoors, but where? “Uhh, Battery Park?”
“No.”
“Near the Empire State Building?”
“Nope.”
Georgie scratched her messy bun. “Rockefeller Center?”
“No…too many people.” Oliver’s voice trailed away from the phone. “But you’re getting warmer.”
“Hmm. Strawberry Fields?”
“Colder. I think,” said Oliver. “I’m not entirely sure where that is.”
Georgie glanced at her VCR and its glowing 7:07. “Ol, maybe cut to the chase? Shouldn’t you be headed to the airport soon?”
“Yeah, there is that.” He chuckled. “I’m outside the American Museum of Natural History watching the balloon inflation for tomorrow’s Thanksgiving parade!”
Georgie’s jaw dropped. “Nooo!”
“And it’s fucking brilliant! I’ve seen Garfield, Babar the Elephant, and Snoopy in a Christmas sweater—oh, and there’s a giant ice cream cone, which is appropriate because I stuffed my face at Serendipity III earlier.”
“Lucky!”
He let out a cheeky laugh. “I will be if I can snap my seatbelt closed on the plane. I ordered this ginormous sundae that had a huge slice of chocolate cake hidden beneath all the ice cream.”
