Georgia on Her Mind Read Online Free PDF Page B

didn’t plan for this to happen. Kate called a few weeks ago. We went out. One thing led to another….”
    “Are you in love with her?”
    He pauses. Dead giveaway.
    “I see.” My mouth goes dry, my stomach contorts and picking the lint no longer seems important.
    “I know we had a good thing going. This just caught me.”
    “Chris, are you a Christian?” Suddenly I want to know.
    He fidgets. “Well, that all depends on what you mean by Christian. I believe certain things.”
    Enough said. “Key, please.” I rise out of the chair and hold out my hand.
    “What?”
    “Key. May I have my house key?”
    “O-oh, right. Of course.” He slips the key off the ring. “I hope we can still be friends.”
    “I don’t know.”
    “Macy, don’t be like this.” Chris’s tired irritation shows.
    “You dump me, break my heart and I have to make you feel better about it? Don’t put this on me, Chris.”
    In the wee hours of the morning my tiny amount of tolerance seems justified. What do I have to lose? I’ve already lost it all.
    “Listen, why don’t we have lunch? We can talk this out when we’re more rational.”
    “I am rational. Besides, I’m leaving for Atlanta in a few hours.”
    “Atlanta?” I can tell he wants an explanation, but I’m too tired and too crabby. Besides, it’s none of his business.
    “Good night, Chris.”
    One-thirty. I crawl into bed, spent. Finally the day is done.

Chapter Five
    I fade in and out of sleep until my alarm beeps good-morning at four-thirty.
    Why me, why now? resonates in my head. I feel shoved back to Go without collecting two hundred dollars. Did I cross wires with someone else’s life?
    I rouse slowly and decide to call for a cab, since this is a Casper trip. Why should my pet convertible suffer outside in the elements on account of them?
    A hot shower makes me sleepier. I feel thick and stupid as I blow-dry my hair, dress in a pair of khakis and a pale blue oxford and brush my face with foundation.
    I finish packing, set my bags and computer by the door, then crash on the couch exhausted until the cabbie arrives.
    At five-fifteen the cabbie’s horn beeps me awake. I hurry out and toss my stuff into the backseat.
    Across the way, Mrs. Woodward’s kitchen window glows with golden light. I should check on her. Might as well pick up my keys, too. I locked up with Chris’s old spare, but I’m pretty sure it has cooties. I’d rather not travel with it.
    “I’ll be right back,” I tell the cabbie, and scurry across the street to rap lightly on Mrs. Woodward’s door.
    She swings it open with a vibrant “Good morning, dear. Would you like some tea?”
    I smile. “No, thanks. I’m on my way to the airport. I just wanted to see how you were feeling.” Good smells waft from her kitchen.
    “I feel wonderful, thank you.”
    “I’m glad.” I spot my keys on the end table. “Are you baking?” I slip past her to snatch them up.
    “I made cinnamon crumb cake. Let me get some for you to take on your trip.”
    My stomach rumbles, reminding me I haven’t eaten. I follow Mrs. W. into her kitchen. “I’m going to ask, um—” who do I ask? “—uh, Drag, yes, Drag to check on you while I’m away, okay?”
    She turns to me with a large square of tinfoil. “Oh, don’t go to any bother. But Drag’s a nice boy.” Mrs. Woodward reaches out to hug me, surrounding me with the fragrance of vanilla and cinnamon. “Have a safe trip.”
    I take the crumb cake. The bottom of the foil is warm on my hand. “I’ll see you in a few days.”
    “All righty.”
    Now, to let our neighbor Drag know he has a mission. I dart past the waiting cabbie.
    “Hey, lady, ain’t got all day,” he hollers when I cross over to Drag’s.
    “One second,” I say. Teach him to be fifteen minutes late.
    Drag lives next door to me, directly across from Mrs. Woodward. He’s a sweet guy with blond dreadlocks, and is the condo’s resident surfer dude. To our knowledge, he has no known