Chapter Fourteen
? Holly ?
It had been eight weeks since Jackson left. Not that I was counting. Or noticed. But at some point yesterday, a desperate and rampant rage to do something burned through me. Thus, I’d been up all night.
Twelve hours. Zero sleep. A pattern I had been doomed to repeat ever since he left.
Just me, my laptop, a legal pad, and a brain running laps on a track that went nowhere. Well…nowhere except Bumfuck, Egypt.
Mac? Playing right-hand man to his dad with the Saints. They had been making updates to the inner and outer workings of the club, literally and figuratively.
Dalton? Had considered Georgia Tech but ended up running off to University of Georgia with a fancy full-ride football scholarship, and was apparently loving it.
Maria and Diego? Baby-proofing her new apartment. Momma Laverne and my dad had pulled some strings to secure a decent, little place just ten minutes away. Maria had been reluctant at first, hesitant to accept such a large favor but I there was joy in her eyes when she first saw the place.
And Jackson? Yeah. Fucking Jackson. He left me. Us.
Fuck.
Somewhere between my third cup of coffee and contemplating whether to set my guidance counselor’s office on fire, I realized I couldn’t just…
stay here. Rotting in my parents’ house.
Waiting for life to happen. Once, I’d wanted to be a beauty coach.
Maybe an influencer. That was a lifetime ago.
Now? Just the thought made me want to gag.
So what did I want? I was flipping through that stupid career packet when it hit me. Hard. More than anything, I wanted to make a difference. To be there for the people who needed it most. Short of becoming Batman, I had an even better idea. And that’s when the doomscrolling and googling began.
Did you know 20.4% of businesses failed in the first year? And almost 70% were dead by year ten?
How fucking depressing is that?
But not mine. I didn’t have the name yet—Phoenix, Ashes Rising, Victor’s Haven—whatever.
I did know what it would be: a shelter for women.
Women like Maria. Women like me. Women who’d been used as doormats by small-dick men and were done with it.
Somewhere they could get a boost. A step up.
A safe place to rebuild without becoming another statistic.
For it to succeed, I needed a business degree. And the best business school in Georgia was the Terry College of Business at UGA. So, that was where I was going. Come hell or high water.
Thus the giant stack of papers I was brandishing at my confused mother who was just trying to eat her avocado toast. She blinked at me, sleep still heavily present in her own eyes.
When she made no move to grab the papers, I shook them insistently at my dad who paused mid-sip of his expensive Brazilian coffee.
He hesitated before taking it from me, giving me one of those long-suffering looks, and began to leaf through it.
“Bug, while I do so enjoy these games, could I get a hint?”
“I’m going to school.”
Mom’s eyes widened. “I thought you didn’t want to go to college.”
“I didn’t. But I changed my mind.”
Dad handed the papers to Mom, who took another dainty bite of her toast before scanning them. He eyed me. “Business school?”
“I’m going to start a business.”
“Yes, bug. I figured that much out.”
Mom put the papers on the table and gestured for me to sit down. “Whatever for?”
“A women’s shelter for survivors of domestic and sexual violence.”
Dad choked on his coffee, and Mom’s eyes practically pop out of her head as I took a seat and reached for the carafe.
I didn’t say anything as I poured yet another cup of coffee.
My dad watched me make it just the way I liked it, and I think Mom’s eye started twitching from the silence.
Just as I took a sip, he said, “A shelter?”
“Yup.”
“Holly, honey, are you sure?”
“Yes, Mother.”
Mom and dad shared a look, a million things passing between the two of them.
Dad reached for her hand, and she intertwined her fingers with his.
I eyed their joined hands for a minute. Her dainty fingers so different from his equally delicate ones.
Her’s being small and slim from years of being a house-wife.
His being quick and steady, but small enough to fit under a child’s ribcage.
Finally, Dad broke the silence and brought my attention back to him. “Ok.”
I glanced between the two of them. “Ok?”
Mom nodded. “If that’s what you want.”
I hesitated, waiting for the shoe to drop.
This had come completely out of left field, yet they caught the fly ball like it was a game of toss.
They both went back to their breakfast and I frowned.
Maybe they hadn’t heard me? “I want to open a shelter for women, so I am going to business school.” I enunciated each word carefully, slowly.
“Have you applied?” Dad smoothed a newspaper out on the table and didn’t bother looking up.
“I heard the University of Georgia is amazing.” Mom dropped a sugar cube in her tea and glanced at me with a soft smile.
I had expected a fight. Or at least some discontent.
Their easy acceptance was mildly off-putting.
Maybe they were just glad their daughter wasn’t languishing in the house?
Or were tired of seeing a zombified, overly-caffeinated heathen wandering around aimlessly in fuzzy pajama pants?
Whatever. I wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.
I had a ramshackle business plan, and a college admission essay to write.
I headed back to my room, grabbing a piece of toast on my way and firing off a text to Maria with my free hand.
Me: Lunch?
Maria: She lives!
Me: I was thinking Mama’s.
Maria: It’s been 84 years….
Me: Maria.
Maria: I thought she was all but lost…
Me: OMFG
Maria: LOL love you…give me a few and I will meet you there. Diego will probably tag along, if that’s all right? He is overbearing to say the least now that the baby is gonna be here soon.
Me: You say that as if he hasn’t always been overbearing.
Maria: Meh, I think it’s sweet.
Me: If you say so. Meet in an hour?
Maria: Yup!
I tossed my phone down on the bed and headed for the shower.
God knows I needed one. Now that I had an actual plan in place, my brain seemed to have calmed down a bit.
Leaving the house didn’t seem like such an impossible task.
I let the hot water run over me, hoping it would wash the last of my worries down the drain.
I dressed carefully, even applying a bit of makeup before heading back downstairs.
My dad had already left for the hospital but I found Mom mid soon-to-be-forgotten crafting project in the sun room.
“Hey, I’m going to grab lunch with Maria.”
Mom angrily shook the tangled ball of yarn, frowning at it like she was appalled by its audacity to not cooperate. She barely glanced up at me. “Ok, sweetie. Have fun, tell her I said hi.”
Outside, I cringed when I was buffeted by the summer heat and hurried towards the carport where poor Sally had languished these last few weeks.
She roared to life like she was eager to get back on the road and I left tread marks as I spun tires out of the driveway, something I was sure Mom would get on to me for later.
I passed the Saints’ clubhouse on the way, admiring the work they had done in the last few weeks.
I spotted Mr. Greyson in the parking lot and he waved as I drove by.
I hadn’t really gotten to know him, but I knew he was like an uncle to Dalton and Mac, so I honked in reply.
Not too long after, I pulled into the parking lot of Momma Laverne’s.
I spotted Diego’s beat-up Nissan he had borrowed from his mom to help Maria get around.
Sure enough, they were at a booth close to the kitchen and Maria smiled at me when I walked through the door.
I went to slide in across from them but stopped right before I nearly landed in Dalton’s lap.
He gave me a cheeky grin and winked. “Hey, it’s all good if you want to have a seat. ”
I frowned at him and went to grab a chair from a nearby table but was stopped by Mac on Dalton’s other side.
He shoved his brother from the booth and gave me a friendly half smile before nodding at the seat next to him.
Dalton took the chair from me and flipped it around, resting his arms on the back of it.
Maria was seated almost sideways on the opposite side of the booth, her back against Diego’s chest and incredibly prominent belly straining the cloth of her shirt.
“Ignore the party-crashing oaf, hermana. Diego texted Mac, figured we could have a nice little get-together, but someone is evidently home for the weekend.”
Dalton raised his hands in surrender. “Hey, I can leave. Just thought y’all would be missing me.”
Mac shook his head and Diego threw an empty straw wrapper at him.
Maria pushed my tea towards me, half sweet and half unsweet, just how I liked it.
I accepted it eagerly before reaching for a biscuit off the plate in front of us.
Before coming to Georgia, biscuits weren’t a snack or even an appetizer.
They were flavorless, often dry, and all together just sad.
But Momma’s biscuits were fluffy, buttery pillows and I could’ve happily eaten ten of them.
Drizzling honey on one, I took a bite before raising an eyebrow inquisitively at Maria, who was staring at me.
She shrugged, shifting in a hopeless attempt to find a more comfortable position. “I’m just glad to see you out of the house. Thought maybe you were gonna die in there.”
“Yeah, it’s like a certain guy who just happens to be a friend of ours left and took your extroverted-ness with him.” Dalton popped nearly a whole biscuit in his mouth before waggling his brows at me.