The Invitation by Adriana Locke

Georgia

Sutton stares at me with her mouth agape.

“Say something,” I say.

“Holy shit.” The words stir her out of the fog my admission just cast around her. She shakes her head. “You and Ripley?”

I wince. “You think it’s a bad idea?”

She laughs, the surprise on her face melting into excitement. “A bad idea? Are you kidding me? Finally.”

“Finally?”

“Georgia, it’s about damn time. We were all waiting for this to happen. Granted, it took much longer than anyone anticipated.”

I don’t know what to say. Is she serious right now?

I refill our wineglasses—mine to the tip-top—and breathe deeply.

My expectations for telling Sutton about me and Ripley were all over the place. She knows our past, so I expected her to think it was a terrible idea. I also worried what she’d think because of The Invitation. I also wondered what she’d think about the one part that worries me the most—my mother.

She lifts her glass to mine and clinks them together. “To new beginnings.”

“To new beginnings.”

“And lots of sex.”

I laugh before taking a sip of wine.

The alcohol, my third glass in a short period of time, fills my blood with an appreciated warmth. The nasty edges of my anxiety have been rounded off. I can finally think clearer, but that might be the wine talking.

When Ripley dropped me off this evening, I was on a high. I walked through the door, but I may as well have been floating on clouds. I was aware that I hadn’t processed the ugly parts of this reality, and I was willing—I needed—to just enjoy the moment before I had to recognize the obstacles in front of us.

But now that time is here, and I don’t know what to do.

“So what happens now?” Sutton asks, twirling her engagement ring around her finger. “Are you officially a thing?”

I smile at my friend. Of course, she didn’t worry about herself first. She’s such an amazing person.

“Before we get into all of that, let’s talk about what this may or may not do to The Invitation,” I say.

“I’ll handle that. It might make things easier, actually, because we can stage more scenes. You’ll be cooperative.”

I gasp. “I’ve always been cooperative.”

“You know what I mean.” She grins. “Now, let’s get back to the important part—where do you stand with Ripley?”

I take another drink before I respond. “I told him that we need to take some time to think about things.”

She furrows her brow.

“This is just all really fast,” I say.

“No, it’s not. It’s taken too many years to make this happen.”

I laugh. “True. But what if he gets home, takes a shower, and realizes that he really just wanted to have sex with me, and I don’t really have the potential for being a part of his future?”

My insides twist at the thought of Ripley not wanting to see me again. It’s almost funny. Twenty-four hours ago, the idea of being a part of Ripley’s life would’ve seemed deplorable. Now, not being in it seems unbelievable.

“I’m not saying that to mean I think we’re getting married or something,” I say. “I just mean that I don’t want to get my hopes up.”

She smiles sadly. “I know where this is coming from.”

“No, you don’t.” Except, she does.

“You’re the one that said you wanted to put your hopes into actionable items,” she says. “This, my friend, is actionable.”

Maybe.

“Did you ever set intentions for your life like I told you to?” she asks.

“No.”

“I figured, so I set them for you.”

“Can you do that?” I laugh.

She shrugs. “I don’t know for certain. But I did it anyway and this is happening for you. You got a job. Ripley. My intentions for your life are coming true.”

“You manifested Ripley for me?”

“Eh, no. Not necessarily. Kind of.” She winces. “I manifested a great guy—someone loyal, honest, funny, handsome, kind, protective, and hardworking.”

So, yeah, you did manifest him.

I flop back on the sofa and think about all the new things I know about Ripley. All the ways he’s cared silently for me over the years. The way he loves his puppy. How he hides his pain under a charming smile and doesn’t expect anyone to see beyond it.

The sad part about that is that I’m not sure that many do see beyond his exterior.

But now, I do. Thank God for that.

“So you’re now giving him time to decide he’s not into you?” Sutton asks. “That’s the most Georgia thing I’ve ever heard.”

I roll my eyes.

“But you’re into him, right?” she asks, curiously.

“Yeah. I’m into him.” I get to my feet and pace my living room. “I can’t explain this, and it’s going to sound … ridiculous, probably. But I finally feel like I can go forward now. There’s a way forward for me that makes sense. I’ve been just paddling along, directionless, you know? Now there’s this peace, I guess. Like I don’t have any decisions to make.” I look at her and smile. “It’s like I can rest now.”

Her smile stretches from ear to ear. “I’m so happy for you.”

“I’m happy for me, too.” My smile fades. “I just have to figure out how to tell my mom.”

Sutton and I exchange a look, and I sit back down.

I stare at the dark television screen and sigh. “I don’t know how to tell her.”

“I know this is a thorny topic for her.”

“You think?” I snort. “It’s the only thing she’s ever asked of me. Do not date a Brewer.” I lie back against the cushions, my heart sinking. “She’s never going to go for this.”

Sutton rests her hand on my thigh. “You don’t know that.”

“Oh, I kind of do. And she’s literally the only family I have. I don’t want to lose that, do you know what I mean?”

“She’s your mom, Georgia. She loves you more than anything in the world. Sure, she might’ve had a bad experience with Ripley’s dad, and she might’ve talked shit about it. But when it comes down to her daughter being happy with a really good man, she’ll be supportive.”

I look at her. “Do you even know Felicity Hayes?”

She smiles sadly.

“I wish I could compartmentalize my life,” I say. “Deal with my mom in this box, and the rest of my life in another one.”

“That’s called having boundaries, and yes, you should do that.”

I frown, knowing she’s right.

I have such a hard time drawing boundaries with Mom. At the moment of my life when I should’ve been doing that—creating the framework for our relationship as adults—she was going through the most traumatic part of her life. She lost my dad, then lost Reid Brewer, and then whatever else she’s gone through quietly. And instead of putting up boundaries, I became her therapist.

When she was depressed in bed, I brought her ice cream. I paid the bills. I did her laundry, washed her sheets, and let her cry on my shoulder while trying to motivate her to keep going.

Everyone needs a friend sometimes, and I was hers. We’ve just never gotten past that.

My phone rings and I snatch it up, hoping it’s Ripley. Instead, it’s Mom’s name that flashes on the screen.

“It’s like we beckoned her,” I say, gathering my willpower before I answer. “Hey, Mom.”

“You are never going to guess what happened to me today,” she says, her voice loud and full of emotion.

Here we go …

I pull the phone away from my ear and place her on speakerphone. “You’re right. I’ll never guess.”

Sutton takes a long swig of her wine.

“Eloise and I had dinner last weekend,” she says, talking a mile a minute. “And we were gossiping, as you do.”

Sutton makes a face, contesting that point.

“And I might’ve told her something that Barbara told me,” Mom says. “Barb didn’t say it in confidence, exactly. I’m sure she didn’t want the world to know she was sleeping with her son’s best friend. But I don’t see it as an awful thing, so I casually mentioned it to Eloise thinking she’d keep it between us.”

“Right.”

“And that bitch went behind my back and told Louisa and of course Louisa ran straight to Barbara and told her what she knew.” She pauses to take a breath. “Barbara knew I told because I was the only person she said anything to. Now I’m the bad guy.”

I sigh. “Well, Mom, you did betray her confidence.”

“I told a mutual friend. Eloise betrayed me, Georgia. Now, none of my friends will talk to me, and there’s an event next weekend and they’re freezing me out.” She starts to cry. “What am I going to do now?”

“Learn a lesson,” Sutton whispers. “That would be a good starting point.”

“Mom, calm down.”

“How? How can I calm down? I’ve lost everyone in my life besides you. That backstabbing Louisa has just stolen my entire social life. I can’t make new friends. I’m too old. Been there, done that and it sucked the first time around. I don’t want to make new friends—I like the ones I have. Had. Whatever.”

She breaks down into a fit of sobs. Her words are slurred, mixing with the tears, and I can’t make sense of anything she’s saying.

“Why don’t you take a bath and relax and give this some time to settle?” I suggest. “Everything looks better after a bath.”

“I’m beside myself. How could they do this to me?”

I wince. “Yeah, that’s rough.”

She sniffles. “Okay. I feel a bit better, I guess. I’m going to make some calls and see if I can salvage any of this.”

“Good luck.”

“I’ll keep you posted.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

“Love you, sweetheart. Bye.”

“Good—” Click! The line is dead. “Bye.”

Between the wine and my mother, my head feels like it’s spinning.

Sutton takes our glasses and the bottle back to the kitchen. “You’ve had enough. I’m going to put this away and then I need to get home to Jeremiah.”

“Okay.” I rest my head against the cushion and close my eyes, letting the warmth wash away my mom’s drama. I can’t deal with it right now, and I can’t let her ruin my day. “Love you, Sutton.”

“I love you, too.”

There’s a long pause that makes me open my eyes. She’s standing in the doorway with her keys on her finger.

“I say this with all due respect,” she says. “But Felicity Hayes lives for Felicity Hayes. You need to live for Georgia Hayes. Follow me?”

I nod. “I follow you.”

“Good. I’m going now. Call me if you need me.”

“Bye, friend.”

“Bye, friend.”

The door closes softly behind her.

I try to sit still and enjoy the question, but it doesn’t work. I try to sort through my hazy brain and figure out how to tell my mom that I just might be in love with Ripley Brewer. That doesn’t work, either. So I do the only other thing I can think of—the only one I really want to do.

I pick up my phone and find his name.

Me: Hey.

Ripley: Hey.

Me: I know we said we weren’t really telling anyone yet, but I told Sutton.

Ripley: What did you tell her, exactly?

Me:

Ripley: I told Tate and Gannon the same thing.

I laugh out loud as happiness floods me again.

Me: When do I get to meet Waffles?

Ripley: I wanted you here right now. You were the one saying we needed to take things slow.

Me: I changed my mind.

Ripley: I can be there in thirty minutes.

Me: I’ll be ready.

Is this the right decision? I don’t know. I hope so. Because it’s the only one that feels right.