Page 34 of In All My Dreams

“Good night, Ian. Don’t break our promise. Okay?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, kid.”

16

Ian

Now

Georgia and I make our way down to the willow tree in silence. She nearly gave me a heart attack when I turned and saw her watching Auden and me. She didn’t say anything,but the smile she gave me said enough as she held her hand out for mine.

Auden may not be mine, but she’s wrapped herself right next to her mother in that small, unbroken chamber of my heart I reserve for them.

I know I need to come clean and be honest about my true feelings. I’ve already told Georgia that I fucked up by leaving her all those years ago; she knows that much at least. But she doesn’t know that I’d give up just about anything to have her and Auden both in my life.

A week isn’t long enough with either of them, and each strike of the clock leaves me feeling hopeless and restless.

Hopeless because I know there’s no world where Georgia would opt to leave her life and choose to stay here.

Restless because I know there’s no world where I watch her leave without me again, especially now.

“Can you read another journal entry or two?” Georgia asks once we get settled underneath the tree on the quilt I carried out for us.

The willow tree fronds sway in the breeze around us as the lake makes small waves that crash against the dock in the distance. The frogs and grasshoppers sing their midnight song around us.

I pop open the wine cork and pour us both a cup, using coffee mugs instead of wine glasses so they stay upright on the uneven earth underneath us. Handing her a mug, I take the diary from her.

“Here. I’ll turn my phone flashlight on,” Georgia says, and the small clearing under the tree lights up as she places her phone face-side up. “Can you read the words, or should we turn yours on, too?”

I open the diary, squinting slightly as the words come into focus in the muted light. “I can read it,” I reassure her.

We both take a long swig of our wine, and she leans into me, resting her head on my shoulder as I begin to read her mother’s words once more.

Dear Georgia,

Today was a better day. It’s the first time in a long while I didn’t feel like I was failing you as a mother for being so lost in my grief. I know you can tell when I’m sad, and I wish I knew the magic fix to take all the pain away and just be there for you. Yesterday, I yelled at you for trying to come into my study. I regretted it as soon as your beautiful face fell and you left without a word after placing something on my desk. When I saw the photo you drew for me, the one with the three of us having a picnic under the willow tree, I knew I was the worst mother ever. Your father held me all night as I cried myself to sleep, silently vowing to do better for you.

For both of you.

So today, your father and I took you and the twins to the fair in town. I’ll never forget the way your face lit up when you saw the colorful lights, the tactfully decorated booths with cotton candy of every flavor, and all the rides you’d only seen in movies until today. The fair only comes to town every couple of years, and before now, you and the twins were too little for all of the rides. This year, though, you got to go on all but three of them. I promise to take you back the next time it’s in town so we can conquer those last three pesky rides with their height restrictions. Ian, the tall sweetheart that he is, chose to only go on rides that you and Irene could ride too. I’d be lying if I didn’t have this secret wish for a much, much olderversion of you two getting married and having your own babies to take to the fair one day. Irene being the perfect maid of honor and best auntie to your children, of course.

You make him work for that future, my littlest love, if it’s meant to be.

I asked you what your favorite part of the fair was, and you told me the Ferris wheel. That was my favorite part, too. You said that you loved that we went together, holding hands the entire ride up and down. When we stopped at the highest peak of the ride, your whole face lit up with wonder and awe as we gazed into the stars. I hope you never lose that. The ability to love everything the way it was meant to be by our creator. The stars, the trees, the flowers.

You find such beauty in the world, Georgie girl. Never lose that. Always choose love, happiness, forgiveness. Life is too short to be stuck living in the ugliness of it all.

Choose love, always.

And remember that I love you, most of all.

Love always,

Mom

I place the book on my lap, leaving it open to where I stopped reading. “Do you want me to keep reading?”

Georgia stirs, pulling her head off of my shoulder, sniffling quietly next to me. “I just can’t wrap my head around any of it, Ian.” Her shoulders slump as she starts to cry silently beside me. “How could that be the same woman who tried to kill me?” She looks up at me, her gray-blue eyes filled to the brim with tears.

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