4. Georgia

4

Georgia

Five Years Old

" T ag, you're it, Georgia!" Irene screams loudly from behind me after slamming her flat palm onto my shoulder.

I turn, glaring at her before Ian comes running out from behind the willow fronds. I hate being it. I don't run as fast as Irene, and I can't hide as well as Ian does.

"I don't want to play this game anymore," I pout, crossing my hands over my blue overalls for dramatic effect. "I hate this stupid game!"

"Georgia Lynn Harris!" my mother calls from her seat near the lake, her finger beckoning me to her.

"Oh, you're in trouble now, Georgie," Irene snickers.

I roll my eyes at her and reluctantly follow my mother's summons, dragging my white sneakers through the dirt as I get closer to the edge of the lake. "Yes, Mama?" My eyes refuse to meet hers, and I stare defeatedly down at my shoes.

"Come here, my littlest love," she says calmly and pats her thigh at the same time. I go and sit on her lap, and she wraps her arms around me tightly, enveloping us both in the smell of her perfume. "You know what I'm about to say, don't you?" she asks with a smile.

I twirl my fingers around the locket she wears around her neck. "Yes, Mama," I mutter quietly.

"So tell me what you did?"

I huff out a breath. "I got mad because Irene tagged me too hard and hurt me."

"And?"

"And I was mean and didn't need to yell at her?"

My mother laughs loudly, pushing her dark hair out of her face. Then, she dips her chin and places it on my shoulder. "Only five years old, and you're already the smartest person I know." She laughs. "Yes, you were rude, Georgia. But also, you chose the game today. You can't get mad when you lose and say you hate it, okay?"

"Irene always tags me instead of Ian," I pout. "It's not fair. Ian's never it!"

"Georgia." My mother's voice is suddenly stern again. "Ian was it three times already, Irene was it twice, and now it's your turn. That means you need to stop whining about it, and play the game fairly. Or you go to your room and play alone for the rest of the day. You pick."

I look over at Ian and Irene who are still trying to tag each other through the long hanging fronds of the willow tree. Both of them laughing and having fun. They are always having fun together.

"Mama, can I have a brother or sister one day?" I look up at my mother, and there's a flash of pain across her face before she smiles brightly at me again.

"Maybe one day, little love. But right now, I want to give all my love to you and not share it. All my love belongs to you, my sweet girl."

I stand and give her a kiss on her cheek, tasting the salt from the tear that was left there. "I love you, Mama. I'm going to go tag Irene back so hard!"

Her laughter follows me as I hunt down Irene, running into Ian instead.

"Here, Georgie, tag me!" Ian throws his arm out for me to tag, and I tap him gently. "What if we both go tag Irene?" he suggests, holding his hand out toward me.

"Don't tell Irene, but I think I like you the best," I whisper into his ear before I grab his hand, and we both laugh loudly as we go searching for his sister.

When we find her, she's sitting on the side of the house crying and holding her leg.

Ian rushes to his sister's side. "What happened, Ree?" His voice is full of panic as we watch Irene move her hand.

Her knee is covered in blood.

"Oh no, oh no, oh no! Ree, are you okay? I'll go get help!" Ian shouts, running back the way we came.

"I was hiding from you guys, and I fell and hurt my knee on the stupid rocks!" Irene yells.

"Don't say stupid," I tell her, bending down to her level and getting a closer look at her knee. "It's not that bad. My mom can clean it up and put a Band-Aid on it real fast."

"Can you hold my hand until they come back? Please, Georgie?"

I sit down next to her and hold her hand tightly. "It's going to be okay, Ree."

Ian comes running back a few minutes later, his hand full of supplies that he drops at our feet. He pulls out a wet wipe and pats Irene's knee gently, smiling at her. "I can fix this. I'll fix this, Ree. Just hold on a few more seconds, and you'll be good as new!"

We both watch as he finishes wiping the blood off of her knee, then holds up a handful of colorful Band-Aids.

"Georgia, what color should we give our patient?" Ian asks.

I bring my hand to my chin, thinking hard. "Maybe yellow so it matches Irene's overalls?"

"I vote yes!" Irene yells excitedly. "Can you guys put bandages on your knees, too, so we can all match?"

The three of us look at each other and smile as we choose Band-Aids for ourselves.

"You guys are my best friends," Ian says happily. "Promise we won't ever leave each other? When we get older, we can all work together somewhere and live here at Crane?"

Irene and I both shake our heads yes.

"Pinky promise?" Ian asks, holding both his hands out to us.

The three of us wrap our pinkies together, squeezing tightly. "Promise," we say in unison.