14. Georgia

14

Georgia

Now

F ueled by real coffee, not shitty hospital coffee, Auden and I walk hand in hand toward my parents' room after stopping to get her pajamas on. She always looks so precious in her floral sleep set. Like a little grown-up in a tiny body.

She was more than happy to help me pack a bag for my dad. Mrs. Foster helped her make a get-well card while they hung out today, easing my feelings of uneasiness toward her a bit. I'm scared she'll realize Auden is Ian's daughter the more she gets to know her. Auden is so much like Irene, it's just a matter of time before Mrs. Foster strings my lies together and figures it out.

When Auden showed us the card at dinner, my heart nearly cracked in two. She drew a willow tree on the front with pretty purple flowers she said she saw at the Fosters' house. The flowers form a heart around the tree, and she wrote "get well soon Papa" over the top in blue crayon. On the inside, there are four hand-drawn people and one orange tabby cat. The four people are holding hands with giant smiles on their faces.

Me, Auden, Ian, and my father, standing in front of Crane Manor.

Under it, she wrote, "I love my family so much."

Shortly after Ian saw the card, he made an excuse to go back to his parents' house to check on his mom. He walked out the back door, those broad shoulders sagged with defeat.

When it's the three of us, it feels like we are the family we should be. I can see it in his eyes; he adores Auden. But he's also cautious around her. Like he's too scared to let her in.

You should just tell him.

"Mama, did you know Ian had a twin sister? Her name was Irene, like the name in the tree," Auden says once we enter my parents' room.

I stop and look down at her, her hand still clutched tightly in mine. "Yes, I did know that. How do you know about Irene?"

"Mrs. Foster showed me a lot of photos of when Ian was little like me." She toes the beige carpet, swaying back and forth nervously.

I stoop to her level, grabbing both of her little hands, turning her toward me. "Honey, what's wrong?"

Her lower lip trembles. "Mama, I did something bad." Her freckles shine brightly on her skin as she looks down at her feet.

"You can tell me, whatever it is. We can fix it," I say softly, squeezing her hands reassuringly.

She lets go of my hands, reaching into the chest pocket of her pajamas, and pulls out a folded piece of paper, handing it to me without looking at me. I take it, unfolding it carefully.

It's a photo of Ian, Irene, and myself in front of the willow tree. The three of us holding hands, smiling wide at the camera. Ian is in the middle, always sandwiched by Irene and I. Tears prickle behind my eyes as I gaze down at the three of us.

How could the smiles on these three kids have broken so much just a few weeks after this was taken?

"Mrs. Foster says I look like her." Auden points to Irene. Irene's dark hair is in pigtails, hanging over her sunflower-yellow overalls in the photo. Her and Ian both wore matching smiles and squinty eyes as the sun blinded the three of us.

I wipe a tear away, sniffling loudly as I look up into my daughter's eyes. Their eyes. "You do look like her, don't you?" I smile at her. A sad smile that I hope she can't decipher.

"I think I look more like you. And I have freckles that match Papa's." She smiles, pointing at her face and then mine. "You do, too."

"Papa calls our freckles his own little constellations. We all have matching ones because we all belong together. At least, that's what he used to tell me when I was little like you."

Auden smiles at that, touching her own freckles, lost in thought.

"You said you did something bad?"

"I stole the picture for you. I'm sorry, Mama," she tells me, playing with the hem of her pajamas. "I thought you might be happier if you had a photo of your friends."

Oh, Auden . The sweetest child, with a mess like me for a mother. I guess it's not so far-fetched that Ian ended up being so normal even though his father is less than.

"This is very sweet of you to give to me. Thank you, hun. But next time, you should just ask Mrs. Foster. Stealing is never okay. I am happy to have this, though." I wrap her into my arms, hugging her tightly. "Now, let's pack this bag for Papa so he can get better soon and come back home." I place a chaste kiss against her forehead, taking care not to touch the goose-egg bump she's still sporting.

I pull out a bag from the oak wardrobe, quickly grabbing a few shirts and pants before placing them on the canopy bed in the middle of the room. Auden starts opening drawers at random, looking quickly before closing them and moving on. I cross the room and grab a few of my father's clothes from the dresser under the window. When I look out, I see Ian standing at the edge of the lake, hands in the pockets of his dark jeans, looking more pensive than I think I've ever seen him. A far cry from the smiling boy in the photo.

"If Papa gets better, does that mean we have to leave?" Auden interrupts my thoughts, forcing me to leave Ian alone with his own ghosts once more.

I place the clothes I gathered from the dresser into the bag on the bed. "Come here, Auden." We walk together to the white rocking chair in the corner of the room. I sit, pulling her onto my lap and wrapping my arms around her tightly.

My mother used to read me all sorts of stories in this chair. My father's words earlier replay in my head. Does he really think my mother wasn't the one responsible for trying to kill me? If he's right...well, everything I feel about her will look differently. Including memories I have of her in this chair, telling stories every night and holding me close. Her White Diamonds perfume surrounding us in a warm hug.

I can almost smell it as I hold Auden.

I never thought I'd have the chance to make those same memories in this chair with my daughter.

"Do you want to go back to California?"

She rubs her fingers across my hands, contemplating my question. "I think I like it here better," she admits.

I ruffle her hair playfully. "So, you're telling me you'd be okay with leaving our apartment and your school just to live in this big haunted house?"

She giggles, snuggling into my chest. "It's not haunted, Mama. The ghost here is a nice ghost."

My breath catches in my throat.

"What do you mean there's a nice ghost?" I ask her.

Auden pulls away from my chest, looking right in my eyes. "She's a nice ghost. She comes to help me at night when the bad one tries to scare me."

Deep breath in, Georgie girl.

My next words tremble out of my lips. "Auden, what does this nice ghost look like?"

Auden jumps off my lap, skipping across the room to one of the drawers she riffled through earlier. She pulls out something and brings it back to me, handing it to me with a smile. "This is the nice ghost." She points down at the photo, my eyes following her finger with dread.

I have to hold back a scream when my mother's face gazes back at me. "This is the ghost that visits you? Does she look like she does in this photo?" I ask with bated breath. I don't know if I can stay here if she's seeing the version of my mother's ghost that haunts me.

Auden shakes her head. "Yes, she's very pretty, like you." She beams at the photo before her face turns serious. "She told me I have to protect you from the bad one."

"The bad one?"

"Yeah," she says flippantly, twirling in place like the five-year-old that she is. Like we aren't in the middle of a life-altering conversation. "The bad one that tried to kill you. Can I put Papa's card right on top so when he opens the bag he sees it first?"

I nod, unable to speak.

"Yay! I'll go get it, and then we can pack it all up for him. I bet Horton will try to sneak away in the bag, so make sure you don't hear any meows when you leave. Okay?" Her eyebrow is cocked, hand on her hip, waiting for my response.

"Yeah, yeah. I'll make sure there's no meowing. I promise."

Happy with my answer, she skips out of the room joyfully, like ghosts and haunted houses are nothing to stress about.

Leaving me alone with more questions than I know what to do with. And with more fear of the living people in Crane Manor than I have of the ghosts.

A fter tucking Auden in for the night and bidding Mrs. Foster farewell, Ian and I head back to the hospital. The drive is short, both of us quiet, stuck in the cyclone of silent thoughts and secrets between us.

At least that's how I feel. Surrounded by a constant storm of lies and secrets I'm keeping from him.

Auden being his daughter.

My role in his sister's death.

The fact that I'm still in love with him.

That last one might not be as big of a secret after the last few nights we've spent together. His phantom touch still lingers on my body when I remember how we fell asleep wrapped in each other's arms last night.

I've never been able to hide my heart from him. It's pointless for me to try now when I have relied on his strength so much since coming back here.

"Do you want me to go in with you?" Ian asks as he pulls the car into the employee parking lot behind the hospital. "It's okay if you don't. I know you and Lincoln haven't had much alone time since you came home."

Part of me wants to tell him no because I want to hear more about my father's theories about my mother. Another part of me doesn't want to leave Ian's sight because his presence is such a comfort to me, and I feel like I can conquer anything with him by my side.

"Come with me, please?" I finally say, twirling my fingers in the hem of the flannel shirt I changed into before we left.

He places his hand over my anxious fingers, squeezing softly. "Always, Georgie."

I glance down at his hands, and my eyes catch on the leather band under his sleeve. I tug on his sleeve and notice it's the same watch my father wore for years. It was a gift from my grandfather to my father when he married my mother. My mother had a matching locket, and their initials were carved onto the back of both.

"Where did you get this watch?" I ask him, running my fingers over the band and watch face.

I look up at him as he runs his other hand through his dark curls nervously while gnawing at his lip. "I found it with your mother's diary in her desk," he answers.

My eyebrows shoot up. "And you just decided to start wearing it?"

"Jesus, no, Georgie. I'm not a thief," he stammers. "I gave it to your dad after I gave you the diary. Your dad told me I should keep it."

I don't miss the hint of pride in his voice as I run my fingers over the band again. The leather is aged but still in good shape for sitting in a desk drawer for who knows how many years.

"What else did he say when he gave it to you?" I can't wrap my head around the idea of my father just tossing something so precious to him away.

Ian pulls his hand out of my grasp, looking down at the watch with a small smile on his lips before he finally answers. "He told me that he and Caroline wanted to give this watch to their son one day." He glances at me nervously, still chewing on his lip before he reaches across me and opens the glove box and pulls out a small green velvet bag. "And he said they had always planned on giving this to you once you were older." He grabs my hand and turns it so my palm is facing up. I watch him open the bag carefully, turning it upside down before the small golden locket falls into my hand.

I stare down at the oval locket in shock. I thought for sure my mother was buried with it. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever expect to see it again. Turning it over, I see my parents initials still intact, but there's more than just their initials carved on it. I run my fingers gently over the new engravings: GLH and ACH.

Georgia Lynn Harris and Auden Caroline Harris.

"When did you do this?" I ask him in a strained voice. I'm trying desperately not to cry again. Today has been full of too many tears. "How did you know Auden's middle name?" I look up, and he smiles my smile at me. The galaxy in his eyes shining brightly tonight, just for me.

"Well, first, I asked Auden what her name was and when her birthday was. Not because I was being creepy or whatever. I honestly wanted to know." I raise my eyebrow at him. "Now that I said it like that, it sounds creepy. But I can't help but want to know all about her. She's your favorite person in this world, and you're mine so..." His voice trails off, and I know if the lights were on, I'd see that hint of a blush creeping over his cheeks.

"Anyways, not the point. After I showed your father the watch and locket, he told me to keep the watch because I was the closest thing to a son he'll ever have." He looks down at the watch again, running his fingers across the band like I was moments ago. "He also asked me to get the locket cleaned up and to give it to you whenever I felt the moment was ‘right.' His words, I swear." He holds his hands up in defense as I roll my eyes. "Then I asked him if it was okay if I took it and got your's and Auden's initials added to it, and he said he loved the idea of the whole family being together somewhere, even if it was just on the back of this locket. I dropped it off at the jeweler in town yesterday after lunch and picked it up while you were visiting your dad earlier today."

I pull the locket to my chest, holding it close. "Thank you, Ian. Really. It's perfect."

"There's more," he says nervously, holding his hand out for the locket.

I don't want to part with it now that I have it in my possession, but Ian's eager and nervous puppy dog eyes make it hard to resist.

Handing him the locket, he leans on the center console. I lean closer to him so I can watch him open the small clasp on the side with a delicate touch. He opens the oval locket, revealing a photo inside, his thumb covering the empty side of the locket.

The photograph is an old, worn photo of my mother and I sitting in the rocking chair in the corner of my parents' room. I'm sitting on her lap as she reads a story to me. I move in closer to get a better look. I must have been about Auden's age in this photo.

"Your dad said he put this photo of you two in there for her birthday one year, replacing the one of the two of them," Ian says softly. He shifts his thumb from the other side of the locket, and I hold back a gasp. "I took this of you and Auden the other day while you were in the library. I figured you might like to have one of you and your daughter in there as well."

The photo of Auden and I is obviously newer. We are sitting side by side on one of the couches in the library. I'm reading her a passage from my favorite story as a child, The Little Mermaid . Not that I can see the book clearly in this thumb-sized photo, but I remember this moment from the other day. She found my copy of The Little Mermaid in my old bedroom and asked me to read it to her.

"Here, turn so I can help you put it on," Ian suggests.

I turn, relishing in the small brushes of his fingers on my neck as he moves my hair aside before he places the necklace around my throat, buckling the clasp quickly before shifting my hair over it.

Reaching up, I lay my hand on the locket now sitting perfectly between my collarbones. "All right, we need to go inside and see Dad before I turn into a giant puddle of tears in your car," I say as I laugh, opening the door at the same time as Ian and stepping into the chilly spring night of Texas.

The cool breeze hits me, making me shudder. Ian's jacket is wrapped around my shoulders moments later. I look at him and smile as he grabs my father's bag from the back seat.

"Ready?" Ian holds out his hand, and I place mine in his without any hesitation. We head into the hospital hand in hand. It's moments like these with him that make me yearn for the kids we used to be, young and in love, when the only secrets we kept between us were the ones we whispered between stolen kisses and tender moments.

Moments like this remind me how easy it would be to stay here, with him.