G E O R G E

Four: When You're the Third Wheel

F R I D A Y | J U L Y
George:

"HE IS absolutely insane! I'm telling you, Robert, he has no remorse!"

It was late when mom walked in through the door, fury burning through her eyes, my father trailing behind her with a look of amusement on his face.

"Claire, he's doing his job," My father said taking his suit jacket off and hanging it up. She rolled her eyes huffing, taking a hold of his bicep for balance as she reached down to take her heels off. "Besides, we lost a lot of clients while Kathy was gone on maternity."

"Oh I know, but not a single day off?" She said collapsing on the couch. My dad slipped his shoes off, walked over, lifted her legs and sat down, draping her legs over his. "We need at least weekends off, we've got kids to look after."

It was quite for a moment, and I could see them just sitting there enjoying each other's presence. They weren't ever very intimate in front of Jack or I, but the odd loving gesture we saw. It would be a simple nothing, like a kiss good morning, or maybe he hold her hand while walking around to places. I knew they loved each other, and it was scary to think that I might never find that.

"They aren't kids anymore, love, they said so themselves," my father then said, surprisingly sounding calm. I decided to come out from my eavesdropping place, going to sit in the armchair, my tongue fiddling with my lip ring. They both looked at me simultaneously.  "Were you listening in on our conversation?"

"I-what?" Was that too obvious? I remember when I was really little, I used to wait in that spot for them to come home, and I remember listening to them talk about me and Jack. "I mean, I- I'm sorry to—"

"Georgie, it's okay," she smiled, standing to kiss me on the forehead. I smiled and watched her return to the spot next to my father. I could tell she was tired. "What time is it, Robert?"

Glancing at his watch he said, "Eleven- twenty four," 

She hummed in response, leaning her head against my father's shoulder, falling asleep right there. I smiled at my parents. I wish my relationship with Genevieve was like that. I always third- wheeled around Sam and Mary, and now Jack and Liam. People seem to forget I'm in a relationship.

Sure doesn't feel like I am either.

I guess I suddenly looked sad, as my father whispered to me.

"Are you okay, George?" He asked shifting slightly so my mom could rest her head on his lap. He took the pin out of her hair and ran his hand through her hair, staring at her lovingly.

"Fine," I reply shortly, frowning, at my own terrible lie. I don't usually open up about my love life with my parents. It's awkward, and my mom gushes like a teenage girl but I miss Genevieve, and I do want to talk about it.

I miss doing exactly, what my parents are doing, just relaxing and playing with her hair. I miss being able to just go over to hers and lay in her bed watching shitty tv. I miss her telling me random facts about her favourite books. I miss the way she danced in my car when a good song came on on the radio. I missed the way she always had to push her glasses up her nose when they fell down.

I snapped out of my thoughts when my dad spoke up again.

"Look, George, I know I'm not the greatest dad," he started, I looked back up at him and blinked signalling for him to continue. "But I do it for you, and for Jack. I want to be able to provide the things you need, like a roof over your head, food, tuition, you want to go into forensic science, and that's—"