Page 89 of Taming Georgia

My heart begins to race. I will never tire of hearing those words come from his mouth.

“I love you,” I tell him back.

Then, he’s off to his office, and I just smile as I watch him go.

Our days here are busy. The list of things to finish seems daunting, but we get it done—each playing the parts we’re best at. We make a good team.

Mila’s at my feet, playing with my shoe.

“Do you want to help Mama? Come on. Let’s go see your friends.”

She starts off toward the kennels like a pudgy, bucking bronco, and I laugh, my heart completely full.

Regardless of what happened yesterday or what will occur tomorrow, I have my happily ever after today. Each breath I pull in will be one of gratitude, each smile I make will be one of happiness, and each kiss I give will be one of love. I’ll cherish every second of this crazy life because it’s the one I choose, the one I want, the one I need.

28

“Living a good life, knowing how to fill one’s soul with joy, is the true gift. Money is just a bonus.”

—Wyatt Gates

I dry off the last dish and put it away in the cupboard after our big Sunday meal. Our weekly gatherings have continued since the one at Ethel’s house right after she came home from the hospital last spring.

It’s hard to admit that I look forward to these meals, but I do. We’re the biggest group of misfits—the world-traveling rich girl; the ex-nurse turned crazy cat woman; a heavy dose of ex-homeless people with varying odd personality traits; the ex-sorority girl who, despite her good job in the business world, always seems to use phrases that make no sense; and me with more baggage than them all. In spite of our vast differences, we all have one thing in common, and that’s our love for dogs. And I’ve found that dog people are the best people.

Entering the living room, I find Georgia sitting cross-legged on the floor amid a scattered mess of papers. We’ve been together for a solid six months, and she was working at the rescue a couple of months prior to us dating, so I figured it was time to elicit her help with the never-ending paperwork in my life. Running a rescue comes with lots of paperwork, and I’d much rather be out on rescues or working with the dogs. Thankfully, Georgia saw my request for help as an exciting challenge and not as me passing off my shit work onto her, which, shamefully, I feel it was.

She holds a piece of paper in her hand, her mouth open as she scans it. Her head rises when she hears me enter. “Wyatt Gates, you’re loaded,” she says in astonishment. “How did I not know this?”

I shrug with a chuckle. “It never came up.”

She pins me with a stare. “My money comes up all the time, and yet this”—she waves my bank statement in the air—“somehow hasn’t been mentioned.”

“It’s not important. You know I don’t care about money.”

“Clearly, but this is a big deal. It should be invested correctly. It could be used to do some amazing things in your life if you manage it the right way,” she states.

“Well, that’s why I solicited your help,” I respond.

“First of all, where did it all come from?”

There’s a giant chew toy in front of my foot. Bending down, I begin to gather up the dog toys and toss them into the toy bin. “Apparently, my dad had a separate account set up with a substantial sum that had a high interest rate. The only thing the account was used for was to pay for my parents’ excellent life insurance policies. I never knew it existed until Ethel helped me go through some boxes that my mom had stored in her garage when we lost our house and moved to the apartment in Ypsilanti. I guess my mom was too high to find time to go through all of my dad’s things when he died. She never knew this money existed or that she had so much money coming to her from his life insurance policy.”

“That’s so sad. All of that time, you could’ve had more than you did. You suffered for nothing.”

“No.” I shake my head, surveying the room to make sure I picked up all of the toys before stepping closer to Georgia. “I’m glad she never knew about it. She would have wasted it away on drugs. I don’t regret my childhood. Yeah, it was hard, but I made it through. It turned me into the man that I am today. Looking around at what I have now, I can’t regret my past because I wouldn’t have all of this without it.”

She slowly shakes her head, obviously still getting used to this new information.

“Money doesn’t buy happiness. You know that’s true. It’s what one does with money that does. I’ve done a lot of good with that money. Believe me, that sum used to be a lot higher.” I chuckle. “A person running a nonprofit animal rescue doesn’t make much, if anything. That money bought this house, my truck, the shelter, paid off Ethel’s bills, and the house that the employees stay in. I try to get the rescue funded as much as I can through donations now, but if the dogs or employees need something and I haven’t raised enough money to afford it, I have that.” I nod toward the paper in her hand.

“Wow. I had no idea. I guess I never thought about where you got the money to open the rescue in the first place. You know if you invest it, then you can do more good with the earnings from the interest on this amount of money.”

“And that’s why I have you,” I tell her with a smile.

She sets the paper down on the floor beside her and stands. She walks over to me and drapes her arms around my neck. “You’re a really good man, Wyatt, and that’s why I love you so very much.”

I softly kiss her lips.

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