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clothes! All clean now.” She nods at pile of fresh laundry.
“Holl’s are good fit, though, huh?”
“Yeah.”
shift uncomfortably and glance at Andy.
“Is, er, is Holly around?” clench my fists, digging my nails
into my palms nervously.
“Nope, sorry, she’s gone out.” Megan shakes her
head, her blond curls bouncing as she irons
T-shirt.
“She’ll be back for lunch—you’ll stay, right? Then I’ll drop
you back at your and B.”
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“Thanks.”
smile, relieved. She’s not here. There’s
still time
“Hello—you’re up!” Jack grins, stepping into the
kitchen.
“Hi.” beam, staring at him. can’t help it. His black
hair, his sparkling green eyes. My dad.
“How’s the head?” he asks.
“Oh, fine—fine, thank you,”
stammer. “Sorry,
don’t know what came over me.”
“Don’t be silly.” Jack winks. “You’ve gotta black out
on your eighteenth, one way or another—it’s tradition!”
smile. “And thanks for breakfast, too.”
“Not at all—proper English, eh? None of this
pancake malarkey.”
Megan rolls her eyes.
“It was wonderful.” beam. “Just like home.”
“Hear that?” Jack turns to Megan. “Maybe we should
do breakfast at the restaurant too—show ’em how it’s
done?”
“We have enough grease as it is, thanks.” Megan
laughs. “Besides, you can’t handle the customers you’ve
got—there’re seven messages on the machine this
morning.”
“Already?”
“Uh-huh.” She looks at him. “You did check it
yesterday?”
Jack looks at her blankly. “I
er
um …”
“Jack!” Megan exclaims. “What is the point of us
having an answering machine if you never check it?”
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“I do,” Jack protests, looping his arms around her
waist. “I do—when remember …”
“And when was the last time you remembered?”
Megan asks skeptically.
“Um
yesterday?”
“We’ll see, shall we?” She pushes the button on the
machine.
“First message: received Friday, January fifth,” the
machine intones.
Megan cuffs Jack round the head. “Friday!”
“What can say?” Jack shrugs. “We had weekend
without the kids—I got distracted …” He nuzzles her neck.
“Jack!” she giggles, pushing him away. “We have
company!”
“It’s okay,” say quickly. “We were just going to—
uh—go and change, anyway!” grab our clothes and head
out of the room, Andy following quickly.
“Hello?” the woman on the answering machine
snaps impatiently. “Jack? Are you there? Jack?”
freeze in the corridor, the familiar voice stopping
me in my tracks.
“Jack!” she shouts irritably. “Jack, answer the
goddamn phone!” It’s Kitty.
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Holly
“You ready?”
ask, gazing up at Josh as he
straightens his jacket. He looks so nervous, standing there
in his uncomfortable suit, sweating despite the January
chill.
“You’re gorgeous,” tell him, standing on tiptoe to
kiss him. “You’re smart, and you’re Harvard scholar!”
straighten his tie. “What man wouldn’t want you for son-
in-law?”
Josh glances down at me, an anxious smile
flickering across his tense features. “Your dad?”
“Don’t worry!” laugh lightly. “He loves you. Almost
as much as do.” flash him grin and push through the
back door. To my surprise, both Dad and Megan are sitting
at the kitchen table.
No time like the present!
“Daddy …”
smile, taking
deep breath and
squeezing Josh’s hand. “Dad, Josh and have something to
ask—”
“Josh, go home, please.”
My smile freezes. “Dad!”
“Holly,” Megan says softly. look at her, then back at
Dad. His face is tight, tense.
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“Please, Josh.” Dad doesn’t look up. “We have some
family business to attend to.”
“But Dad—” glance at Josh. “Daddy, Josh—”
Josh squeezes my hand. “Maybe
should go,” he
whispers.
“No!” hiss, gripping his hand tightly. “No, Josh …”
“It’s not good time,” he says meaningfully, gently
disentangling his fingers and kissing my forehead. “I’ll see
you later.”
“Josh—”
watch as he closes the door behind him, then turn
on my father, my blood boiling.
“Well?” demand. “Well? What’s so important that you had to be so rude?”
“Why don’t you tell me?” He doesn’t look up.
stare at him. “What?”
“Why don’t you tell me,” he continues, “what you
were doing in New York?”
“What do you mean?” ask, my cheeks flushing. “It
was just holiday.”
“Just
holiday,” Dad repeats, nodding slowly. “So,
what happened?”
“What?”
“Why’d you come back early?” he says tersely.
“Why’d you cut your ‘holiday’ short?”
“I—”
“The flight back was paid for, right? Josh won the
tickets?” stare at him.
“So why didn’t you stay the whole weekend?”
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He looks up and falter.
“Okay,” sigh. “It wasn’t
prize
Josh bought the
tickets.”
He closes his eyes, nods grimly.
“I’m sorry didn’t tell you, Daddy, but it was the
only way we thought you’d let me go—you’d never have
let me miss my eightee—”
“So why’d you get the bus back early?” he
interrupts, staring at the table. “If Josh paid so much for
flights, why miss them?”
sigh. “We didn’t have flights back,”
confess
miserably. “We were always going to get the bus. We only
flew down there because Josh got cheap deal—because
I’d never been on plane before—it was my present.”
“Your present.” Dad nods, his jaw tight.
move toward him. “I’m sorry, Daddy.”
“Then why don’t you tell me the truth?” He looks up
sharply, stopping me short.
“What?”
“Why don’t you tell me the real reason you went to
New York, Holls?”
“I—”
“And what exactly happened to make you come
home early.”
He looks straight at me. He knows.
don’t know
how, but can see it in his eyes.
“If you already know, don’t see why you need me
to tell you,” mutter.
Megan shifts uncomfortably.
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“Because Holly, I’m your father and have
right
to—”
“I’m eighteen years old, Dad,
don’t need your
permission,” say bitterly. “Or your approval.”
“My approval? My approval?” He stares at me.
“Holly, you obviously thought wouldn’t approve, or you’d
have told me yourself!”
look away, tears stinging my eyes. never thought
he felt that way. Never. thought he liked Josh—I thought
Josh was just being formal by asking his permission.
never dreamed Daddy might say no
chill trickles through me.
What’ll he say about the baby?
“Holly, you must see what mistake this was.”
My insides twist. mistake?
Dad sighs. “I don’t think you should have any more
contact.”
stare at him. “What?”
“It’s for the best.”
“You can’t—you can’t mean it! Megan!
beg her for
help, but she looks away. “I won’t,” say defiantly. “You
can’t make me. This is my life and I’ll decide who’s in it!”
“No.”
“Dad!”
“I’m sorry, Holly,” he says, rubbing his brow. “I
really am, but can’t just stand by and watch while—”
“Then you don’t have to,” interrupt quietly.
“What?”
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