Jojo’s put two spring rolls on her plate and is now munching away, saying nothing. She doesn’t look in the least bit upset, but she already knew this was the plan. And she already knows that we really can make it work. And that her father isn’t abandoning her.
“It’s difficult to explain, honey,” Remy says again. “Relationships between husband and wife are complicated.”
Georgina shakes her head. “Not good enough, Dad. You want to leave us. Okay, so explain it. I know you-all were doing things this way before I got here, but I don’t care about that. You can’t just change things up on me and not give me an explanation. Why can’t you live here with us?” She glances at me. “Why can’t you be married to her? She’s a nice person and she tries really hard.”
He shifts in his chair and my heart goes out to him, because I know he loves us. And I know this is hard for him. Maybe even harder for him than me because I realize, from talking last night, that he feels like a failure. A failure as a father and as a husband. And maybe he is. But he’s doing his best and I love him for that. I’ll always love him for that.
He opens his hands and then closes them into fists. Trying to find the right words. “I don’t know how to explain it, except to tell you that I can’t be a husband to your mother all the time. Not the way she deserves. And I . . . I can’t be a father to you girls 24/7.” His voice cracks. “I’ve tried and I can’t. I need space. I need time to myself. In order to be who I want to be for you.” He looks from one of us to the next. Even Jojo has lifted her head to meet his gaze.
“So, your dad is going to move out and the three of us will stay here, but very little is going to change,” I start to explain. “Your father—”
“If he’s going, I’m going,” Georgina declares.
I stare at her, shocked.
“Lilla,” Remy says gently.
Georgina shakes her head. “No . . . no! If you don’t have to stay here, I don’t have to stay here. I want to go with you, Dad.” She looks at me, her eyes filling with tears. “I want to go with him,” she tells me.
And I feel as if I’m free falling. I never saw this coming. How did I not see it coming?
I look to Remy, pleading. For what, I don’t know. For him to stay. For him to tell her she has to stay. For him to save me.
Jojo just sits there, shaking her head. “You know, it makes sense,” she says, her voice stark in the silent room. “The two of them living in one place, us in another.”
I look at my youngest daughter, feeling as if she’s betrayed me. But the tears in her eyes tell me she hasn’t. They’re telling me she’s being truthful.
“Look,” Jojo says. “What’s the big shocker here? Dad can’t be a full-time husband or dad. Not even for you, Mom. We already know that. So, maybe it’s the same thing with Lilla.” She reaches for a carton of rice. “You want her to be your full-time daughter, Mom, but a couple of months ago”—she hooks her thumb over her shoulder—“she was someone else’s daughter.”
I reach for my napkin, fighting tears. “Jojo—”
“No, let her speak,” Remy says, covering my hand with his.
“You’re asking a lot, Mom. Maybe if Georgina lives with Dad for a while, she can get used to things. Maybe she won’t feel so overwhelmed. And she can come here for dinners and stuff, just like Dad did . . . like he does.” Jojo meets my gaze, suddenly seeming a lot older than fourteen to me. “Mom, I know you don’t want to hear this, but I liked it when Dad lived in his apartment. You and I got along just fine. And things were better. You and he didn’t argue. You laughed a lot. You liked each other again.”
Now I’m the one shaking my head. “No, absolutely not. You are not leaving here, Georgina.” I look to Remy. “You’re not taking her from me.”
“Dad, don’t you want me?” Georgina’s voice is raw with emotion.
“Of course I . . . I want you.” He looks to me. “But I don’t know if . . . I . . .”
Jojo groans. “Come on. It’s not like you’re going to have to keep an eye on her all the time, Dad. She was practically on her own before she came here.”
Remy looks at Georgina. “I do want you to live with me. I think it might be good for both of us,” he says, obviously choosing his words carefully. He returns his gaze to me. “But this has to be up to your mother.”
I hear Georgina’s chair scrape on the hardwood floor. She gets up.
“Lilla,” Remy says.
“Georgina,” I call after her.
But she’s already out of the dining room.
I look to Remy, stunned. “You have to fix this,” I say in a small, frightened voice. “You can’t take her from me. You can’t do it.”
He grabs my hand. He’s teary, too. “I won’t. You know I won’t. Not without you agreeing to it. But, baby . . . think about what she’s asking. Think about what Jojo is saying.”
“I’m going to go see if she’s okay,” Jojo says and gets up.
I just sit there, feeling the warmth of Remy’s hand.
“Just consider it. Temporarily . . . it might be a good idea,” he says. “It might be easier for her to make the transition.”
“But I want her here with me.” Tears run down my cheeks.
He gets out of his chair and comes to me. He squats beside me. “I know you do,” he says softly, looking up at me. “But what is our goal here? What’s your goal?” When I don’t answer, he goes on. “I think our goal is to integrate Lilla into our family. To make her one of us.”
I wring my napkin in my hands. “But she is.”
“To us she is, but not to her.”
I close my eyes. I’m trembling.
“You want to be her mother, but right now, in her head, Sharon is her mother and you’re just a . . . usurper.”
The word makes me take a shuddering breath. The thing is, Georgina said the same thing in the car yesterday. She just said it with more kindness.
“Maybe you two need some space. So neither of you feels so much pressure,” Remy goes on. “Because right now you’re struggling to be her mother and she’s struggling to be your daughter, Harper. And . . . we have to take into account her being old enough and mature enough to make choices like this. If we were divorcing right now, a judge might ask her who she wanted to live with.”
“But how can I let her go when I’ve waited so long to have her again with me?”
He takes my hand and kisses it. “You wouldn’t be letting her go. You’d just be letting her live with her father. Baby, half the kids in this country live with just one biological parent and most of them don’t get to live a few blocks from the other parent.”
I close my eyes. I want to get down on the floor and curl up in a ball and just . . . disappear.
Remy rests his cheek on my hand. “Harper,” he whispers. “I think we need to do this. For our daughter.”
43
Lilla
I hear the front door open, but I don’t look over my shoulder to see who it is. I’m leaning on the porch rail, looking out into the dark. The oak trees look bigger at night; their branches seem like arms reaching out to wrap us in their embrace. I can’t decide if it makes them look more sinister, or kinder.
“I found out Friday night.” It’s Jojo. “That he’s moving out.” She comes to lean on the rail with me. “I knew he wouldn’t stay, so I wasn’t surprised. I was going to tell you, but then you did your disappearing act and that sort of took over.”
“It’s okay, Jojo,” I say. “It wasn’t your place to tell me.”
We’re both quiet for a minute, then Jojo says, “Don’t be pissed at him. I know it would be nice if he wanted to live with us, but we’re still better off than most kids. Who our age still has their dad around? He’s usually on a second family by now with a younger, prettier wife and a baby.”
A silence stretches between us, but it’s not uncomfortable. I wonder if she sees the trees the same way I do.
“He does love us,” my sister goes on. “And . . . I kno
w it sounds whack, but he’s not lying when he says he loves Mom. Legally they’re divorced, but I don’t care what anyone says, they’ll always be together. Who knows, maybe after we’re gone, Dad’ll move back in for good.” She sighs. “I just think he can’t deal with it right now. With work and Mom and us. I think if you go with him, though, he’ll be okay. I mean you’re practically an adult already. You don’t need him leaning over you, telling you what to do and where to go. And he doesn’t feel like he needs to boss you around.”
I stare into the darkness. “You don’t want me here.”
She’s quiet. I can smell her berry shampoo. She’s so close to me that her sleeve brushes mine and I find it strangely comforting. We’re nothing alike, and yet . . . I feel this pull toward her. I wonder if it’s the blood tie, or the house, or just because I don’t have anybody anymore.
“That’s not something I get to choose,” Jojo says. “Kids don’t get to decide that kind of stuff. When Mom and Dad wanted to have another baby, they didn’t ask your permission.”
I smile at her observation. Jojo thinks she’s dumb, but she’s not. She’s not book dumb and she’s definitely not people dumb. I think she’s struggling with teenage hormones and whatever. I seemed pretty dumb sometimes when I was fourteen.
“So it’s not fair to ask me if I want you here. Because you’re my sister.” Jojo stops and then goes on. “But if you’re asking me if I want you to leave here to go live with Dad . . . I guess I kind of do. Because I liked how things were before Mom found you.” She turns to look at me, the towel still on her head. “But whether you live here with Mom and me or with Dad down the street, things aren’t ever going to be the way they were for me and I just have to get over it. You know? Because Mom did find you. And I don’t think that’s a bad thing,” she adds.
I meet her gaze in the flickering yellowy light that comes from the old-fashioned gas lamps burning on both sides of the front door. I hear the old roof over the porch creak. It’s chilly outside, but I’m not cold. “What you said in there about me going with Dad? Do you think it makes sense? For me, I mean?”
She looks into my eyes and then out at the park again. “If I were you, I’d want some distance between me and Mom. She just . . . what you said. She tries so hard that it makes things hard for the rest of us. And she’s not totally your mom, not like she’s mine. I mean, she is . . . but, you know what I mean. You really do have two moms because . . . just because Sharon did what she did, that doesn’t wipe out all those years you had together. When you were happy. When she loved you. I think that’s hard for Mom to understand.”
I think on that for a moment. “Will she let me go with Dad?”
“I think she will,” Jojo says softly, “if she can just be brave enough.”
44
Harper
Holding hands, Remy and I stand in the hall at the front door. I can hear our girls talking softly on the porch, but I can’t hear what they’re saying. I have an impulse to grab them coats; they might be cold. But we’re in a bit of a family crisis right now so we’ll forgo the coats.
I watch through the door, studying how the light from the gas lamps flickers across their backs. Jojo is still wearing her pink towel on her head.
“You want me to go out with you to talk to her?” Remy asks.
I shake my head. My sense of falling has passed. I’ve hit solid ground again. Semisolid. Maybe a little boggy. I don’t like where I’m standing right now. I wish I weren’t here. But I know I have to be thankful for all I have and not covet what I don’t. Having Georgina right now on our porch is nothing short of a miracle. And a miracle has to be enough for me. I should have seen that all along.
I squeeze Remy’s hand and let go. I open the door and walk out onto the porch, hugging myself for warmth. Where’s our spring weather? Last year, we had eighty-degree days by now. I watch my daughters leaning on the rail, looking out over the park. They’re quiet now, but they’re still standing side by side, arm brushing arm. The sight makes me want to smile and cry at the same time.
I take a step forward, because I have to. Because it’s what mothers do. “Jojo, could you give us a minute?” I ask.
My youngest leans against her big sister for just a split second, then turns away. She brushes past me, meeting my gaze, and then she’s inside the house, closing the door behind her. Closing us out.
I walk over to the rail and look at Georgina. “I don’t want to let you go, you know. Not even eight blocks away.”
She turns. Meets my gaze. “You don’t want me,” she says softly. “Not really. You want Georgina. You want a girl I’m never going to be.”
I take a shuddering breath. I want to argue with her but I don’t. Because I can’t. Not if I’m going to be honest with her. With myself.
“But I love you,” I manage, fighting back tears.
She smiles. “I know you do. And I think . . .” She keeps her gaze steady on me, my brave girl. “I’m not saying this so you’ll let me go with Dad, but . . . I think someday . . . someday I can—”
She doesn’t finish her sentence. She doesn’t have to. I know what she’s trying to say. That if I’ll just back off a little, give her some space and some time, maybe she’ll come to love me.
I hear the pain in her voice as she tries to express this to me and I just want to wrap her in my arms. I want to hold her the way I did when she was a baby. I want to soothe her tears with my breasts, with my voice, with the beat of my heart. But she’s not a baby anymore. She’s not even a girl. She’s almost a woman. And Remy’s right. This has to be her choice.
I feel light-headed as I reach into my cardigan pocket. “You have to come spend the night with us at least once a week. And I expect dinner together, as a family, four or five nights a week. And we’re going to do something fun together, you and I, at least once a week. We can go to museums. We don’t have to shop.”
She laughs through her tears. “Deal.”
“And you have to promise to try to let me in, Georgina.” I tug on her sleeve. “You have to talk to me. Even if you don’t think I’m going to like what you have to say. You have to say it.”
“Yes.” She sniffs. “I’ll try.”
“I have something for you,” I whisper. My crucifix is for her, it’s always been, but I know now isn’t the time. I hope there will be a time, but I know this isn’t it. But I have something else for her, something I didn’t even realize was meant to be hers. “I want you to keep this with you. And know every time you see it or touch it, how much I love you, Georgina Elise Lilla Broussard.”
I take her hand and press the silver king cake baby charm I’ve taken from my pocket into her palm.
“Your cake baby?” she breathes. She holds it in her palm and touches it delicately with one finger. She looks at me again. “I really did remember it. I wasn’t making that up. You know, because I thought you wanted me to remember something.”
“I know.” I slip my arm around her waist, and lean into her, feeling her warmth.
“I can’t take it,” she tells me, allowing my embrace. “It’s yours. It’s . . . your special thing.”
I breathe in the scent of her, savoring the feel of her. “Which is why I want you to have it.”
She hesitates, then murmurs, “Thank you.”
She doesn’t hug me. She doesn’t tell me she loves me. But seeing my silver charm clasped tightly in her hand, I smile through my tears. I’ll never have the family I dreamed of all these years, but I found Georgina. We found each other.
A READING GROUP GUIDE
FINDING GEORGINA
Colleen Faulkner
ABOUT THIS GUIDE
The suggested questions are included to
enhance your group’s reading of
Colleen Faulkner’s Finding Georgina!
DISCUSSION QUESTIONS
1. Do you think Harper and Remy could have stayed together had Georgina not been kidnapped?
2. What do you think about Harper’s re
sponse to her daughter’s kidnapping? How would you have responded, had Georgina been your child?
3. Was Remy a weak man or a strong one?
4. What’s your opinion of Remy and Harper’s marriage after the divorce, prior to Georgina’s return? After her return?
5. Was Jojo’s response to the rescue of her sister to be expected? Why or why not?
6. What kind of relationship do you think will develop between Georgina and Harper? Will they be satisfied with the relationship?
7. Do you think Sharon should ever be allowed to see Lilla again? Would this be for Lilla’s good or Sharon’s?
8. Do think Harper will be able to give Lilla the freedom she wants?
9. Will Lilla and Jojo ever become friends? Why or why not?
10. What do you think of the decision Remy and Harper made at the end of the book? Do you think they can make it work?
Finding Georgina Page 31
