“Why the hell did you tell them where I was?” Georgia verbally pummeled Jimmy that night. They were in the apartment Jimmy was renting from Luke. Sparsely furnished, it had a transitory air to it, as if on some level there was an awareness of impermanence.
He stood with his hands in his pockets, staring as if he didn’t understand her anger. “They really wanted to talk to you. Patch things up.”
“Bullshit,” she seethed. “I don’t believe you. You knew how I felt last night. You had no right to get involved.”
“As you remember, we didn’t talk much last night.”
“So you figured today would be a better time for a confrontation?”
He gazed at her with what she guessed was wonder at the raging lunatic in front of him. If she’d been in her right mind, she might have been surprised, too, at her raw fury. She felt her eyes narrow, her breath go shallow. It didn’t happen often, and when it did, she could usually control it. But this time she couldn’t wrap her arms around it. This was a rage that had been suppressed for years.
Jimmy leveled a steady gaze at her. Not aggressive, not passive. “What do you want from me, Georgia? If it’s an apology, you got it. But if you’re looking for approval, well . . . I don’t know.”
“What am I looking for?” She flipped her hair behind her ears. “How about loyalty for starters?”
“You think I betrayed you?”
She didn’t, not really. But she wasn’t ready to admit it. She tossed it back to him. “Do you?”
Jimmy shook his head. “No, Georgia. No cop-suspect interrogation games. We both know how that turns out.” He folded his arms. “Whatever you think, they are your family. You rescued Vanna from certain death. You are helping raise your nephew. They matter. I know that. And so do you.”
“But not JoBeth.”
“No. Not your mother.” How could his gaze penetrate her soul like that? He knew her at her ugliest. But he didn’t run away. He could deal with her. Her rage began to dissipate, and she wanted to throw her arms around this man. This strong, complex man, whose love was the most precious gift she’d ever been given.
“They’re gone, you know,” he said.
“What do you mean ‘gone’?”
“They left your place. They rented an apartment in Arlington Heights.”
“Why there?”
“Your mother couldn’t afford the North Shore.”
“Vanna went with her?” She hesitated. “Charlie too?”
He nodded.
“Where did she—oh, never mind. I don’t care.”
But Jimmy knew what she was going to ask. “She says she’s different. She stopped drinking. Got a job. Cleaned up. Put some money away for the day that Vanna called.”
What about me? She never put away anything for me. “Right,” Georgia snapped. “And you bought that?”
“Maybe she’s telling the truth. Maybe she wants to make amends. With you and Vanna.”
“How do you make amends for ignoring one daughter and not the other?”
“You have to start somewhere.”
“I don’t. Not my problem.”
Jimmy didn’t reply.
“I think I’ll go home tonight,” she said.
Disappointment flooded his face. “You don’t have to.”
“I know.” She hoped she sounded conciliatory.
“If you’re going home because you need to punish yourself . . . by not spending the night with the man you love, who loves you back . . . you might want to reconsider.”
That was exactly why she was going home. But she’d never admit it.