Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 101667 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101667 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Her face is stoic and unreadable. “The dog was the least of my worries, Holly. I was trying to deal with a daughter who had been kidnapped and horribly abused in every way imaginable. I just wanted you to focus on getting better, and not clinging to a mangy dog and a filthy bag of books. I didn’t know that savage had him.”
I cringe at her choice of words. “He’s not a savage. And it’s not okay to tell lies.”
“You’re right,” she says softly. “I shouldn’t have lied to you. I thought I was doing the right thing. You have to understand I’m new at this too, Holly. I’ve never been through anything like this. I know I haven’t handled any of this in a good way. Not back then, and not now. I…I just can’t think about it or talk about it. I want it all just gone.”
“For it all to be gone, I would have to be gone,” I whisper, pain clenching my heart like a tight fist. “Is that what you want?”
Her chest heaves up and down beneath her robe and, for a second, she looks like she’s going to faint, but she recovers quickly. “Please, Holly. It’s Christmas Day, and it’s your birthday. Now is not the day to be talking about such horrible things and getting upset. I promise we can talk about all of this on another day. I promise I’ll be better. Everything will get better, you’ll see. I don’t want you gone. That’s a terrible thing to say. I love you. I just need time to sort it out.” Although she smiles hopefully, her eyes are begging me to drop this conversation.
As Feather would say, my mom can’t deal. It’s taken me a long time to build up the courage to confront her. I would rather just continue to talk about it now, but I suppose she’s right that now is not the best time. “All right.” I agree reluctantly.
Relieved, she steps closer and pulls me in for a quick hug. “I’m sorry this is all so confusing for everyone. I really am. I know I haven’t been the best mother to you. We’ll work on fixing it, okay? We just need time. That’s all.” She holds me at arm’s length and looks into my eyes. “I want you to be happy, please believe that.”
Returning the smile, I slowly disengage from her embrace, not quite knowing what to believe. She and my father are so distant, barely part of my life at all. I can’t help but wonder how much of it is from being busy with their lives and jobs and how much of it is because I just make them too uncomfortable.
The quiet of my bedroom is a welcome haven that night, even if it’s in a house that feels not at all like home to me. My mind is filled with so many different emotions from the day that I’m not even sure what I’m feeling, other than purely exhausted, mentally and physically. Spending time with my grandmother earlier cheered me up after the talk with my mother, but I still feel an odd emptiness inside, like something big is missing but I have no idea what it is. Before changing into the clothes I sleep in, I peer out the window, searching for any new footprints or signs of Tyler, still curious as to how he got to my window and secretly hoping he’ll come back.
After I climb into bed, I reach into my nightstand and pull out the card and photo. I wish Tyler was in this photo, kneeling in the snow next to Poppy. I try to imagine him there, with his long hair that almost matches the color of mine, his strong, colorful arms, and those bright blue eyes that mesmerize me. He’s far too beautiful to not smile, I decide, and I set a new goal for myself: make Tyler smile. A real smile.
14
Holly
Two days after Christmas, my family has gone back to their normal busy routine, my mother has dodged any further in-depth conversation, and I’ve been driven back to Merryfield. I decide the best thing for me to do is to put my Make Tyler Smile plan into action. I need something to feel good about.
On the way out of town, I ask my usual taxi driver to stop at the ice cream shop. My worries about going in there again after I was let go were for nothing because, when I place my order, the new girl working there doesn’t know I’m the Girl In the Hole Who Passed Out In the Soft Serve.
The driver laughs at me when I get back into her car carrying two large purple drinks with fluorescent green straws. Before I’d gone in, I’d offered to get her something, and even offered to pay for it, but she declined.