Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 98375 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98375 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Each day I ventured out without any plans and just drove until I saw something that interested me. So far I’d been to Malibu, Sequoia National Park, and the Santa Monica Pier. I couldn’t help but think that if Georgia and I lived out here together, we’d visit some of those places on our next staycation.
This morning I’d headed south. I hadn’t been sure what city I was going to, but when I saw signs for Rosie’s Dog Beach, I figured that was one sign I couldn’t ignore. So the boys and I spent the afternoon walking along the water, where they were allowed to roam off leash. There’d been a shopping area not too far from there, so after we were done, I stopped to see if I could find some waters for the dogs and something to eat for me.
A half block from where I parked, I found a chicken place that fit the bill with outdoor seating, so I grabbed a table. But as we got up to leave after our meal, I looked two stores down and did a double take.
Eternity Roses.
Seriously?
What were the chances that I’d walk straight into one of Georgia’s boutiques? I walked over and stared at the window for a while, looking at the displays, yet not really seeing them, before wandering inside.
“Is it okay if I bring my dogs in?”
The girl behind the counter smiled. “Only if I get to play with them.”
“Deal.”
She came out from behind the counter, and frick and frack practically attacked her. Four licked her face, and not to be outdone, Fred ran in rapid circles, chasing his own tail.
The clerk laughed. “Oh my gosh, they’re so cute.”
“Thank you.”
“Is there something I can help you with?”
I didn’t want to explain why I’d come in, so I figured maybe I’d send my mom some flowers for listening to my sorry ass the other day. “I’m just going to look around, if that’s okay. I’d like to send my mom some flowers, but I’m not sure what yet.”
“Sure. Take your time. I’ll happily occupy these guys while you browse.” She pointed to a wall with glass shelves and different arrangements on display. “Those are all stock pieces that can be made in any colors you want. But if you had something specific in mind, we can also make a custom arrangement. They just take two to three days more. Is this for a specific reason, like a birthday or get well?”
“More of a thanks-for-putting-up-with-me gift.”
She smiled. “Those are always fun. There’s also an iPad at the front counter that can give you some ideas of things people have custom ordered and a fun database of messages that has everything from poetry to sweet to funny.”
I remembered Georgia saying she used to enjoy writing those messages when she first started out, so after taking a quick look around, I was drawn to the iPad.
Scrolling down to the suggestions marked Just because, I double-clicked and started to read. Some were funny, some were dirty, and some were just corny. I chuckled when I got to one written by Maggie P.:
Best friends are like peeing in your pants.
Everyone sees it, but only you feel the warmth.
That had to be the Maggie I knew. After a while, I stopped reading the messages and just scrolled the names to see who had written them. I guess I was hoping to find one written by Georgia. I didn’t, but when I got to the very bottom of hundreds of messages and saw one by F. Scott Fitzgerald, I remembered Georgia had said she’d kept his books annotated near the register because his quotes simplified love for her.
It was
always
you.
-F. Scott Fitzgerald
I read that a dozen times, over and over. I wasn’t sure if it was the glaring sign I’d been looking for, but it sure as hell was the simple truth. It was always Georgia. And in the end, whenever that day might come, I didn’t want to look back with regret. Maybe those four simple words were a sign after all.
So when I got back in the car to head home, I decided to take Georgia’s advice. I picked up my cell and scrolled through my contacts until I got to one of the last ones, and then I pressed Call.
“Hi. This is Max Yearwood. I’d like to make an appointment with Dr. Wallace.”
• • •
A few days later, the charity hockey game arrived. I’d used it as an excuse to get my brothers to fly out, and since my mom had arrived yesterday, we were all under one roof. That rarely happened, except at Christmas. The exhibition game wasn’t until seven, and I’d planned to tell everyone my news over breakfast, but I’d woken up with a splitting headache again. The last few days had been stressful, and my brain was taking it out on me. So I took a few Motrin and put my announcement off until lunch.