CeeCee didn’t sound the least bit upset when she said that, by the way. Only proud. Because CeeCee knows, as do I, that dreams are inherently meant to grow and expand. Right out of college, Georgina thinks writing for Dig a Little Deeper is the highest peak imaginable for her career. But one day, probably soon, I’d guess, Georgina will realize she’s standing at the base of a much, much higher peak. She’ll realize she was born to take that GMA interviewer’s job one day, or its equivalent. And when Georgina realizes that, and leaves Dig a Little Deeper to chase an even bigger dream, CeeCee will be as excited for Georgina as I’ll be.
Tony brings the sedan to a stop in front of my mother’s facility. “Will this be a long visit today, Mr. Rivers?”
I touch the ring box in my pocket, reassuring myself, yet again, it’s still there. I’m not going to give it to Georgina until we’re in Sardinia, standing on a beach at sunset with a photographer there to capture the once-in-a-lifetime moment. But when I took the ring box out of the hotel safe this morning, I didn’t feel good about packing something so valuable in my suitcase. And so, here it is. Burning a hole in my pocket. Making me feel physically ill with excitement about what’s to come every time it bumps against my thigh.
“It’ll be a long visit today, Tony,” I say. “Feel free to head to a diner or something. I’ll text you when we’re close to leaving.” I look at Georgie. “You’ve got a print-out of your article?”
She pats her purse. “God, I hope Eleanor likes it.”
I reassure her my mother will love it, even though, in truth, nerves are suddenly gripping me. I’m almost positive I’m right about that—that my mother will, indeed, love the article Georgina has written for her. But you never know with Eleanor Rivers. There’s always the chance the article will send her spiraling into some sort of unexpected meltdown.
I lay my palm on the ring box again, subconsciously reassuring myself it’s there. And then, with a kiss to Georgina’s cheek, get out of the car, take Georgina’s hand, and lead her up the familiar steps toward the facility.
Chapter 37
Georgina
There she is. Eleanor. Curled into Child’s Pose, alongside her boyfriend, Lee, at the front of her yoga class. When the instructor sees Reed and me in the doorway, she says something to Eleanor that makes her sit up and look, and the moment Eleanor sees us, her face ignites with childlike joy. She leaps up, shrieking happily, and bounds over to us like a gray-haired gazelle. Only this time, unlike last time, Eleanor flings herself into Reed’s strong arms, first—but only to chastise him for it being so long between visits.
“It’s my fault,” I say. “I had a bunch of deadlines for my summer internship, and I had to hunker down. I promise, I’ll never let so much time pass between visits again.”
“No, no, it’s my fault,” Reed says. “I should have come weeks ago, by myself. The truth is, I haven’t traveled these past six weeks at all, other than one short business trip out West, because I’ve enjoyed staying home with Georgina so much.” He looks at me and flashes a smile that sends my heart fluttering. “Georgina’s living with me now, Mom. Permanently. And, suddenly, the only thing I want to do is stay home and hang out with her.”
Eleanor looks pleased. “Well, if you’re going to ignore me for way too long, I suppose that’s a delightful reason.” She waggles her finger at her son. “But never stay away this long again, Reed Charlemagne.”
“I won’t.”
Eleanor looks at me, all smiles. “Did you wind up getting offered your ‘dream job’ at Dig a Little Deeper?”
“Oh my gosh. I can’t believe you remembered me telling you about that. Yes, actually, I did. When Reed and I get back from Sardinia, I’ll start full-time as a permanent staff writer.”
Eleanor claps happily. “I knew it! After your last visit, I told all my friends you were going to nab your dream job. I even bought a subscription to Dig a Little Deeper, so I could see why you wanted to work there. I’ve now read every back issue, and, I must say, I’m impressed.”
“Oh, wow. Thank you for doing that, Eleanor.”
She leans forward. “I read your article in the last issue about that horrible football coach. I’m so sorry he hurt you and those other girls. But good for all of you for telling the world what he did.”
I’m astonished. I’ve always thought of Eleanor as living in a sort of bubble here in Scarsdale, cut off from the outside world. It never occurred to me she would have read my Gates article. “Thank you so much for reading it. That means the world to me.”