Page 3 of Holly Ever After

I'll tell them, eventually. When the words find their way and the sting fades a little more. But for now, I keep my silence, choosing to protect the delicate remnants of my pride.

“So, do we have a deal?” Mom raises an eyebrow. “Will you join our team?”

“Fine,” I sigh, defeated. “I’m in. Just let me find a decent pair of running shoes, and maybe a crash helmet.”

“Excellent. We’ll crush the Johnsons this year!”

Jesus.

Dad chuckles, giving me a sympathetic look. “Your mother takes no prisoners when it comes to Christmas games.”

I remember.

“Or anything else,” I mutter under my breath.

Mia tugs on my shirt, her tiny face a mix of confusion and curiosity. “Games? Play?”

I hoist her up in my arms. “You bet, kiddo, but these games involve more strategy and less tickling.”

Dad finally manages to detach Mom from the décor planning long enough to suggest they leave and let me settle in. “Come on, Karen. Let’s give Holly some space. She’s got unpacking to do, and we’ve got a Christmas strategy meeting to plan.”

Mom gives me a quick hug, slipping a not-so-discreet sachet of lavender into my hand as she does. “For the smell, darling.”

“We can stay?” Rachel offers, resting a hand on her swollen belly. “Help with the place?”

I give her a sideways hug. “Your only job is to rest. You’ve already got your hands full.” I crouch, tickling Mia and kissing her cheek. “And I promise,” I tell her, “When this place is all done, we’re having a sleepover.”

She giggles and claps her hands.

God, I missed them.

Mark sighs. “Ah, sleep would be nice.” He pulls me into a hug that feels just like home before whispering, “You sure you can do all of this on your own? I’ve got to work but I can help in the evenings, or I could call Sean—”

“No!” I back away. “I want my return to be peaceful and quiet. I’m going to lock myself away for a few days, clean, and see if I can write some sentences that are coherent enough to read. Then I’ll get stuck into all of the big jobs around here. I would prefer my return not to result in a murder.”

He rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “You realize you’re an adult now? You and Sean could try to get along.”

My poor, innocent big brother. “He’s your best friend and that’s your burden to bear, but it doesn’t mean I have to suffer too.”

“You know he could have this place fixed up in no time.”

“Great, maybe while he’s here he can dig a hole big enough for me to bury him in.”

Mark dips his chin. “Point taken. No Sean. With the business taking off and everything going on with Brenda, I’m not sure he’ll even have the time.”

I rear back but remain steady on my feet. “What’s wrong with Brenda?”

I know Sean and his mother have had their troubles throughout the years. I always thought the woman had the patience of a saint when we went a little crazy in her house, but now that I’m older I realize she was probably drunk. A mixture of emotions churns inside me—shock, confusion, and a touch of sadness. Brenda Colson was always kind to me, even when her own life seemed to be unraveling at the seams. But it wasn't easy for Sean growing up either. Most times, he played the parent rather than the other way around.

Mark blows out a breath. “Sean says he’s handling it, but I think he’s in denial. Her memory isn’t what it used to be, and she’s confused a lot. She’s just… different. She walked into the bar last week and demanded a drink. Sean had to practically carry her out of there.”

My mouth falls open. “Brenda?” The woman has been sober for years and worked hard at it.

He nods, the worry causing the corners of his eyes to crinkle. I know Mark has always seen her as a second mother.

“I should go see her.”

“Let me run it by Sean first. I’m sure she’d love to see you, Holl, but she can be… well… erratic.”

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