Searching for Georgia, A Novel
Chapter 2: Yaya
“George, wake up!” I hissed as I shook my dear, but annoyingly soundly sleeping husband. I alarmed him and he quickly flipped over toward me.
“Huh? What is it, Sue?” he asked in a startled fog.
“Hon, Georgia has been in the truck quite a while with Scotty. I don’t trust that young man. I think you need to go out there.”
“What with my shotgun?” he asked.
“No, no need for that….well maybe.”
“Darling, you go,” he commanded gently. Then he added, “I don’t want to embarrass Georgia by catching them kissing.”
“I’ve got to get out there. I have a bad feeling about what’s going on in that truck and I’m not going to lie here any longer and make myself sick with worry.” I threw on my robe, stepped into my slippers and ran downstairs so fast I’d have toppled down them if I hadn’t had a good grip on that railing. I got to the driver’s side and saw my sweet, baby- girl undressed by Scotty, that pompous, shit senior with all his well-bred Southern manners charmed us all, but no more. My stomach dropped. I thought I was going to be sick. It’s a good thing George didn’t come down with his shotgun. I might have told him to fire away.
I hollered at my stunned baby-girl and sent her to her room. I’d deal with her later. Oh dear God. Did they? Have they been? Once Georgia was clearly out of the picture, I gave Scotty a piece of my mind. If that boy had been drinking, he sure sobered up. I stuck my big head clear in that truck and yelled at him so long and hard, my voice went hoarse. I mean an eighteen year old man and my sixteen year old girl? Did he have any clue? Was he that dang stupid and foolish? I didn’t give him a chance to respond to my questions and accusations. He tried, but once he realized he hadn’t a chance of redeeming himself, Boy got smart and stuck to, “Yes, mams.” In any case, I forbade that boy to date, touch, kiss, or have any kind of relationship with my baby-girl, my sweet granddaughter, Georgia. I am pretty damn sure I scared the shit out of him. After tonight that boy will go running the other way when he sees Georgia for a while.
I told Scotty to go walk home and watched as he made his way down our street lit up by the moon and the street lamps. I even told him to text me when he got home or I’d come looking for him. Though he looked sober, I had really rattled his cage. I was furious with that boy, but I didn’t want him hurt. I wanted to see his face around town so I could hiss at him every so often and scare him straight.
It was a warm May night. The kids would be out of school any day now. The cicadas were out in full force humming, buzzing, and clicking away. The mosquitos were out, too. Ouch! I smacked at my bare calves. I sat on the porch swing for a minute to clear my head. Georgia could wait. I’ll let her fret and worry a bit. She needs a bit of a scare in her right now.
I had to think now how I should handle this situation. Should I tell Maggie? Yes. Even though I don’t want to tell my daughter that while her precious only girl was under my watch she may have lost her virginity; I must. I have spent the last eight months reassuring her that there’d be no way she’d do anything stupid under my watch.
My Maggie and I trust Georgia. She has always been such a good girl and strong, too. She’s five foot, seven now. Our girl is hazel-eyed and has silky brown hair with hints of auburn in the sun that falls just past her shoulders. She gets straight A’s and mostly follows our rules, be it with a touch of sass here and there. She is our ray of sunshine in the family. Daddy and Papo’s little girl and Mommy and Yaya’s world as well.
Her boyfriend Scotty is quarterback, handsome and has such fine manners. When came onto the scene he swooped us all off our feet about just as much as he did Georgia. I need to tell Maggie about tonight. She trusts me and she deserves that. It would be disrespectful and entitled of me to think I could go and keep secrets about her own daughter from her. I love my own daughter too much to do that to her.
Do we take Georgia to a gynecologist or to Planned Parenthood? God forbid she is pregnant. I am not ready to be a great grandmother and she sure as hell isn’t ready to be a mother. Oh, I don’t want to go there. I am hoping my baby-girl is still an innocent child as I see her. Suzanna, get it together! I need to put my big girl panties on and deal. Am I making mountains out of molehills? God, I hope so. But, I am tired. For now, I shall go to bed. I’ll deal with Georgia in the morning.
My text came in from Scotty, “Made it home. I am so sorry, Ms. Sue. Nothing happened. You have my word.” How in the hell does he think groping my topless granddaughter with his pants undone in his truck is nothing? Nonetheless, that boy is good. Somehow his text took a bit of the weight off my shoulders.
I’ll just peek into her room to see if Georgia’s okay. I made my way up the stairs and into the grandkids’ room, gazing over the pair of twin beds for little Jack and apparently my grown-up girl, Georgia. Each side is distinctively boy and girl. I see my girl in her pajamas and already asleep. How in the hell can she sleep soundly after I just hollered at her? Not to mention, I scared her boyfriend shitless with enough hooting and hollering to cause a few lights to flicker on from the darkened windows of our nosy neighbors. I bet I stirred up a bit of juicy gossip for the morning…or maybe already for tonight if I know ole Sally Mae Walcott.
Wait, Georgia is not asleep. I see her nerves switching. She is trying to make like she is asleep. She’s shaking in her boots. I’m a bit terrified, too, Georgia baby. You’ve gone and grown-up way too soon for your grandmother. Slow down, baby. Slow down for your mama, too. I’m going to let her be. I want to kiss her and tell her I still love her with all my heart, to the moon. But, then she may want to talk or show me she’s awake. I’m too tired to talk. “Goodnight. We’ll talk tomorrow, Georgia,” I whisper with a bit of sternness in my voice. All I really felt was love and protection, but I needed to show her I meant business so I put up a tough front.
“Everything okay, Sue dear?” George asked sleepily as I crawled into bed beside him.
“It will be,” I answered. “It will be,” I repeated more to assure myself than him.
“Goodnight, Suzanna. You are a wonderful grandmother.”
“Thanks, Hon. I know,” I know George, he’s just grateful I step up so he can get his rest knowing his precious granddaughter will be made safe by me, her tough-as-nails grandmother. But, for this I’m at a loss. George deserves the rest as I gave him plenty of unrest the first half of our forty years together. I’ve been sober ten years now, thank you very much. I was mostly sober the ten years before, but I fell off the wagon here and there. My rock George has always been by my side through thick and thin. The man loves me alright. I bet I’d still have that man by my side to my grave, drunk or sober. In my A.A. meetings, I’ve heard a thing or two about teenage sex and the ease of getting access to alcohol and drugs when sponsoring the youngins, some still in high school like Georgia. Yet, I’m going to need Maggie to bring me into this century when it comes to our own baby-girl.