“What’s the ball a metaphor for?”
“I’m not sure,” Georgie said. “The relationship. Marriage.”
“You’re really depressing,” Heather said.
“Maybe you shouldn’t be talking about marriage to someone whose husband just left her.”
“He didn’t leave you,” Heather said. “He’s just visiting his mom.”
Georgie looked down at the empty soup can in her lap.
“I keep waiting for you to say that it’s all worth it . . . ,” Heather said.
Georgie swallowed. “That’s a meaningless thing to say.”
They sat quietly for a minute until one of the pugs—the bulging pregnant one—scuttled down the stairs into the laundry room. Watching a pug run down stairs is a lot like watching a pug fall down stairs. Georgie winced and looked away. It ran over to her and froze, barking aggressively.
“I don’t like you either,” she said, turning back to the dog.
“It’s the shirt,” Heather said. “She hates that shirt.”
Georgie looked down at the pug that was BeDazzled on her borrowed shirt.
“They’re very territorial,” Heather said. “Here, move—let her climb into the dryer.”
“I may not like her,” Georgie said, “but I don’t want to cook her.”
“She likes it,” Heather said, pushing Georgie over and opening the dryer door. “It’s warm.” She lifted the dog into the dryer, on top of the clothes.
“What if it’s too hot in there?”
“Then she’ll jump out.”
“This is so dangerous,” Georgie said. “What if you don’t know she’s in there, and you start the dryer?”
“We check first.”
“I wouldn’t have checked.”
“Well, now you will. Look—she likes it.”
Georgie watched the little dog settle down on a pile of darks, glad that her own clothes were still in the washer. She frowned at the dog, then at Heather. “Remind me never to ask you to babysit again.”
Georgie’s bra fell apart completely in the washing machine. Her mom had a Speed Queen with an old-fashioned agitator, and the loose underwire had wrapped around the center and caught on something inside the drum. Georgie yanked the wire free.
It hadn’t even been ninety minutes since Neal hung up on her. He might not have made it to his aunt’s nursing home in Iowa yet. Georgie couldn’t just sit here, waiting all day. She should go to work. . . . God, no, she couldn’t deal with Seth right now.
She held up the bra, trying to decide whether she could get by on one underwire, then shoved it into the dryer with the rest of her clothes (dislocating the pug first) and ran back into the house.
Heather was sitting on the couch, messing with her phone.
“Do you want to go to the mall?” Georgie asked.
“On the day before Christmas Eve? Sure, that sounds like a great idea.”
“Okay. Let’s go.”
Heather was already narrowing her eyes; she narrowed them to a squint. “Aren’t you going to put on a bra?”
“I’m going to the mall to buy a bra.”
“Why don’t you just go home and pick up some clothes?”
Georgie thought of her house. Sitting dark and too far away, almost everything just as Neal had left it. “I need to get back here before Neal calls.”
“So take your phone with you.”
“He’s calling here—are you coming?”
“Nah,” Heather said. “I’ll stay. That way there’s somebody to answer the phone when Neal calls.” She put his name in air quotes.
They frowned at each other.
“Come with me,” Georgie said. “I’ll buy you something.”
“What?”
“I might have to go to the Apple Store.”
Heather leapt up from the couch, then froze. “I can’t be bribed; I won’t keep your dirty secrets.”
“I don’t have any dirty secrets.”
Georgie’s cell phone was still plugged in to the car lighter and woke up as soon as she turned on the car. She had seven missed calls and four voice mails from Seth, plus two missed calls and one voice mail from Neal’s cell. Georgie stopped—halfway in her mom’s driveway and halfway in the street—to play that voice mail. She held her breath, waiting to hear Neal’s voice. To hear now-Neal’s voice.
“Mom?” It was Alice. “Grandma wants to know if we’re allowed to watch Star Wars, Episode Five. I told her yes, but she said there’s a lot of violence. And Daddy went to see Grandpa at the cemetery, and he didn’t take his phone, so we can’t get his permission. I told Grandma it’s okay—that we just close our eyes when Luke cuts Darth Vader’s head off—but she doesn’t believe me. So call us back, okay? I love you—” Alice kissed into the phone. “—bye.”
Georgie set the phone down on the dashboard and backed into the street.
“Are you okay?” Heather asked.
“I’m fine,” Georgie said, shoving her glasses up and wiping one eye with the back of her hand.
“’Cause we just left the house, and you’re already driving like an ass**le.”
“I’m fine,” Georgie said.
CHAPTER 21
There was no parking at the mall—they circled and circled before they found a spot. Then Georgie opened her glove compartment and dug out her driver’s license and credit card.
“Don’t you have a purse?” Heather asked.
“I’m not usually in purse-necessary situations.”
“I thought moms were supposed to carry big purses with first-aid kits and packets of Cheerios.”
Georgie scowled at her.
“You’re practically homeless,” Heather said, “aren’t you? If Neal doesn’t come back, you’re gonna have to forage for food and water.”
Georgie shoved the phone and cards into her pocket. “We’re not wasting time here,” she said. “There won’t be any hanging out at the Orange Julius, scamming for hot guys.”
“I’m not twelve, Georgie.”
“In and out. We get the bra, we get a new battery for my phone, then we’re out of there.”
“Are you buying me a new phone? Because I think I’d rather have an iPad.”
“Who said I was buying you a phone?”
“It was implied. Besides, Mom says you’re good for it.”