Page 41 of Lost
How long had it been since they’d had a night out together, just the two of them? Too long. Even before Lysander had come into their lives, it had been at least a month since they’d dressed in their finest and headed downtown for an evening alone. No band to distract him with music talk, no friends to coo about kids with her, no Lysander for them to be mindful of. Just the two of them sharing a long overdue meal at their favourite restaurant.
It wasn’t the fanciest place they could have gone, nor the closest, but it was definitely the most sentimental. It was the first “high class” place Zack had taken Georgia to when he’d finally earned enough money to be able to afford it, back when she was still just his girlfriend and he was freshly crowned rock royalty, before they’d learned whathigh classreally was. He’d gotten all sorts of looks from the other patrons for his tattoos and piercings, but he hadn’t cared. Georgia had loved the place. Had loved theexperience. It was where she’d requested they go for her twenty-fifth birthday, where he’d decided to propose a year or so later, where they’d gone for dinner on their first anniversary…
Ownership had passed from father to son at some point, but the place itself hadn’t changed much over the years. It was still all red velvet and warm woods, hushed voices and flickering candles. Thankfully, the clientelehadchanged, just enough that not every head swung to look at Zack as he sat across from his wife. He liked to think it was because people were getting with the times and not because he’d removed his lip piercings and covered his tattoos.
After dinner they took to the beach, Georgia carrying her heels as they walked through the low tide. These were the sorts of night’s Zack missed. Maybe he’d run it by the band — a night spent at the beach with their significant others was definitely in order. They could make an entire day of it if they really wanted to. Maybe after the album was done, as a way to relax and reward themselves for a job well done.
It was barely after ten when they returned to the house, shaking sand from their feet and smiling like children. Zack had barely shrugged out of his suit jacket before his wife was putting on a movie for them to wind down to.
He barely made it halfway through before he found himself nodding off.
*
Zack half heard the front door slide open, letting in the distant sounds of the highway before clicking shut and muffling the noise once more. Georgia’s head turned on his chest.
“Hi, Ly,” she said softly. “How was your night?”
Quiet footsteps padded into the living room. The rustle of Lysander’s jacket was louder than his shoes on the carpet. “Good. It was great. It was nice to get out for a while and relax.” A moment of quiet hesitation, and then, “I hope this isn’t too late. I know it’s after midnight, but—”
“It’s fine.” Georgia shifted her weight, raising herself off Zack’s chest. “It’s Saturday, and you’re entitled to have a little fun. I’m just glad you got home safe. But you should have called us to come pick you up. Walking around at this hour isn’t safe.”
“Oh, I didn’t walk. Jack’s mom dropped me off. I thought you guys might still be out, and she was already there, so…”
Silence fell between them again. Zack listened to the sounds of the movie still playing, debating whether he should reveal he was awake, and then…
“I got the impression earlier that you wanted to stop me going to the party,” Lysander said quietly. “Why didn’t you?”
So Lysander had picked up on that. Interesting.
Georgia shrugged against him. “I’m not your mother. I have no right to tell you what you can and can’t do, especially when your father’s already said you can do it.”
Guilt blossomed in Zack’s chest. Was that why she’d been down earlier? She’d not only disagreed with his decision, but also felt like she had no place to override it. How many other times had she held her tongue? What other decisions had he made that she disagreed with? Why wasn’t she voicing these things to him in the moment? Even if she didn’t feel right telling Lysander no,hecould. If only he knew he was making the wrong decision in the first place.
He was about to speak up when Lysander said, “You can, though.”
The boy stepped further into the living room and sunk into one of the armchairs. Georgia followed his movements, one hand still resting on Zack’s chest. He kept still, hardly daring to breathe, not wanting to interrupt whatever was happening between his wife and son. He didn’t want to be overhearing this conversation, but he feared that if he moved he’d disturb the peaceful atmosphere.
“You’re not my mom,” Lysander agreed, “but you’re my step-mother. I get that I’m supposed to hate you and rebel and all that crap, but—”
“You don’t hate me?”
Lysander’s response was equally surprised. “You thought I did?”
It was Georgia’s turn to hesitate. Zack wished he could take her hand.
“You’ve been so…” She shook her head, her earrings jingling with the motion. “It feels like every time I try to talk to you, you spend the entire conversation trying to get rid of me. And I know that’s my fault. I should never have brought up your mother that afternoon. But Zack had been so worried about everything, and I wanted to make sure everything went well…”
She was a saint.
Lysander was silent for a long moment. Zack could practically picture him looking down at his hands, his brow creased as he thought on Georgia’s words. Always thinking before he acted, that kid.
Except when it came to hitting his classmates, it seemed.
“I don’t mean to,” he said. “I guess…you remind me of my mom. A lot. Sometimes having you around is a little overwhelming, but that doesn’t mean I hate you. I just…need a little space sometimes.”
“That’s why I’m not trying to be your mother. You know I’d never try to replace her, right?”
“Yes. But I also know when the band goes on tour, it’s just gonna be you and me around here, and I don’t want that to be awkward.”
