Page 124 of Call You Mine
“Then it became what we did. We would meet in the living room after you fell asleep. We would just talk until I got tired, and then he’d let me put my head on his shoulder when I got tired.”
I didn’t think it was possible to love this man anymore, but his love for my sister—the love I’ve watched foster and grow—is proof that there is always more room to love. “What about the nights he was at work?”
“He’d let me FaceTime him,” Georgie answers. “He would tell me all about his shift, and he always said that if he got a call while we were talking, he’d call me after and tell me all about it, but I always fell asleep before he got one.”
My eyes water, and I don’t even bother blinking them away.
Georgie’s eyes widen. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I told Anderson not to tell you either. I just didn’t want you to worry.” I let go of her hand to wipe a tear falling from my cheek. “Are you upset with me?”
I shake my head, grabbing her hand again. “These are happy tears.” I squeeze her fingers in mine. “Thank you for telling me.” I sniffle as I inhale before blowing out a breath. “You said it’s been since the adoption since you’ve had one, though?”
Georgie nods. “I’ve been able to fall asleep on my own. Anderson offered to come check on me when he’s home, but I told him he doesn’t have to. I just don’t think I’m ready to not sleep at home, though.”
Home.
She called it her home.
Because that’s what it is.
“You’ve been cryinga lotlately,” Georgie says, in that judgemental voice she’s mastered as an almost-fourteen-year-old.
I snort. “Apparently, that’s what happens when you’re pregnant.”
Georgie’s eyes widen as her jaw drops. “What the hell! When were you going to tell methat?” she exclaims, and I can’t help but laugh.
“Consider us even,” I reply, reaching across my center console to pull her into a hug.
“I’m assuming it’s Anderson’s?” she says, muffled against my chest.
“Georgie! First, you cuss at me, and now you’re accusing me of stepping out on my husband?” I lean back, pressing a dramatic hand to my chest.
“Who says ‘stepping out’ anymore? What are you, a hundred?”
“You make me feel like it sometimes.” I laugh, and Georgie joins me.
“Wait,” she says, just as we both open our car doors to head inside. “Does this make me an aunt or a big sister?”
Shutting the car door behind me and heading inside, Georgie right behind me, I let her question sink in. We haven’t really talked about the logistics like this when it comes to the adoption.
We are in a unique position since Georgie has a mom and a dad, and I’m her sister who is now her guardian. And then there’s Anderson, who is becoming more of a father figure than a brother-in-law.
“What do you want to be?” I ask.
She closes the door behind her, stepping out of her sneakers and hanging up her backpack on her hook by the door before she walks into the kitchen.
I slide off my own sneakers, lining them up in their designated spot before fixing Georgie’s, putting them neatly next to mine.
“I’ve always wondered what it would be like to be a big sister,” she voices. “But you’re my sister, not my mom, right? Even though you’retechnicallymy parent now.” She strings the sentences together like she’s trying to make sense of it all. “So that wouldtechnicallymake the baby my niece or nephew.”
“I don’t think there are any rules when it comes to this, George. It’s whatever you want.”
We both plop down on the living room couch, the afternoon sun peeking in through the opened blinds.
“Well, I definitely still want to call you Ava. Even though Mom isn’t my mom anymore. You are.”
My eyes immediately begin to water again.
Fucking pregnancy hormones.
