Page 49 of Call You Mine
“Say what you want, you’ll be humming these songs for the next week.”
She snorts. “Can’t argue with that.”
“So can we?” Georgie asks Ava.
Ava cocks her head. “Can we what?”
“Come over here tomorrow?”
Ava reaches out to the scattered records in front of us and begins stacking them into a neat pile, all the albums turned right side up. “I said ‘we’ll see’.”
“But what does thatmean?” Georgie asks, but Ava keeps pulling records into the pile in front of her.
I watch her movements, loaded and deliberate, and she doesn’t take her eyes off what she’s doing. Each time she stacks a record, she makes sure the corners are perfectly in line. Stopping every so often to lightly tap the sides of the pile to make sure they line up.
“It means that I don’t know right now, so we’ll see tomorrow.”
“But what’s there to decide?” Georgie pushes. “Aren’t we moving in here soon anyway?”
Ava’s head snaps up. “What makes you say that?”
“That’s what you told the social worker.” She poses the words in a way that makes them sound like a question. “You told her that you guys are going to be moving in together since you’re getting married.”
Ava’s eyes dart to me before moving back to Georgie. “Is that something you’re comfortable with?” Ava asks.
She had mentioned that she still needed to talk to Georgie about this part of our whole arrangement, and I guess now is as good a time as ever.
Georgie gives a half lift of her shoulders. “I guess so.” Her tone carries that familiar boredom as the next song starts. Another rock song cuts through the silence, the gravelly lyrics circling us.
I lean over to the speaker that the record player is connected to, and lower the volume.
“Then maybe we can come over this weekend?” Ava asks Georgie, but she looks at me as she asks.
I give her a nod, the corner of my lips turning up at the thought.
“Does that work for you, George?”
“Sure,” she says with a shrug of her arms, in that teenage way that makes it seem like they don’t care—even though they do.
“Do you, I don’t know, have any questions?” Ava says with a dry laugh. I’m sure this is a conversation she never thought she’d have to have with her younger sister, and I hate that she has to.
Georgie thinks for a moment. “What about all my stuff at Mom’s?”
Ava’s lips thin, her nostrils flaring as she places another record on her neat pile. “Of course,” she answers, but her voice is tight, like she’s trying to hide some of the frustration she seems to be holding close to her chest. “I haven’t heardfrom her yet, but I can stop by there when you’re at school this week.”
Georgie nods but doesn’t say anything.
“Unless you want to come with me?”
“No,” Georgie answers quickly. “I mean?—”
“I know what you mean, kiddo,” Ava says, reaching for Georgie, wrapping her arm around her shoulder, and pulling her in close underneath her blanket.
“I can help you get her stuff,” I tell Ava. “If you need.”
Ava offers me a soft smile, mouthing a “thank you” before she pulls Georgie in even tighter, the two of them communicating without words—I may not know what passed between them, but I hope one day they’ll be comfortable sharing it with me.
“Is that alright with you, G?” I ask Georgie, tapping my knuckles gently on her knee. The nickname falls from my lips as if I’ve been calling her that forever.
