Chapter 105.1: 1995, Georgina

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Chapter 105.1: 1995, Georgina


The air in the room smelled slightly spicy, last night's meal still here in the room. Next to me, Baby Doll was sleeping in her folded up pleasureful pose. She looked so content. Unlike me.

In my lap was the start to a crochet square. My crochet hook was still, unmoving and cold. My mind was not with me, and I couldn't help it. Nobody could help me, because I was still...

I almost didn't notice the front door open, but I did notice the colors which came through it. Saturated yellow, brilliant green. Tropical in my world that was filled with so much sorrow that I could not...there were no words. I had no words. Just like all the time now. My mouth...

And then I smelled it.

Sweet. Sweet in the spicy. Her world.

"Oh, Georgina, you're up from your nap? Did you get to the couch okay? Are you okay?"

"Y...yes." I struggled with the word. It wasn't my mouth, my throat. It was me.

Cha Cha wrapped around the couch, and I got a good look at her clothes. They had green and pink palm fronds in a pattern on them. The skirt was tight, to her knees. The top of the dress was off the shoulder. It looked early sixties to me. That design.

Before I knew it, I was touching it. Her skirt, smoothing it out with my palm on palms.

"Oh! Do I have a stain on it? I knew it! I ate a sandwich. Is it mustard? Oh no." Cha Cha's hand joined mine, brushing away the imaginary mess. Her skin color and the green went together like candles and fire. The fire in her heart.

"No." I felt guilty, making her worry unnecessarily. Like always.

"No? Oh, good. I got it from Florida. The plants, they're Florida."

Oh? Florida? Had she gone to Florida? When?

"Florida?" I weighed this word in my mouth.

"Yes. Did I ever tell you?"

"No."

She gave a slow smile in front of me. She was leaned over, a white box with a thin white and spiraled ribbon around it in her hand. Without wasting a movement, the box was on my lap and I scrambled to secure it there, adjusting my crochet project to the side of the couch with her movement. The cat next to me stirred.

"Oh, well," she sat next to me, and I watched her do it. The smell from the box...it was like almonds. Intoxicating. "I went there a lot, with the Cubanos and their music. I had to get away, you know? I couldn't stand it. Genesis said...well...he said..."

"Genesis?" The word was out of my mouth before I could take it away.

"Oh- Oh, Si, siii, well..." She looked uncomfortable.

"Okay." I wanted to make things simple for her. No pushing. This was her's.

"Um, cookies! Cookies. Look in the box!" A sudden smile. What was it? Was it Paulie's? That cover up. Who'd taught her to smile like that? I only knew one place where it could have come from.

"Cookies?"

Her hands were scrambling now. They were ripping away the ribbon, her bright green nail polish unlike the palms on her dress. The palms that she said were Florida palms and no other. Why had she gone to Florida, and more than once? Was it truly any of my business?

As she opened the box, I realized that no, it wasn't any of my business. No, because she hadn't wanted it to tell me. And the despair would have come because she was hiding, if not for what was in front of me. Her words.

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