Chapter 24 Holly
HOLLY
Istood at the edge of Paige's ridiculously perfect pool, toes curled over the smooth stone coping, debating whether to jump in or ease myself down the steps like a normal person.
The water sparkled turquoise in the afternoon sun, and the sound of laughter rose above the soft reggae music playing from hidden speakers around the patio.
Aunt Elyse was already in the water, floating on a pink flamingo raft and talking animatedly with Sarah.
Jenna and Paige were arranging a spread of food on the outdoor kitchen counter, while Grace lounged elegantly under an umbrella, large sunglasses hiding half her face as she sipped something bright red from a stemmed plastic glass.
It was weird seeing them all in swimsuits. Like seeing your teachers at the grocery store: a reminder that they existed outside their usual contexts.
"Are you going to stand there all day, or are you joining us?"
I turned to see Allison approaching, little Noah clinging to her hand. She wore a modest navy one-piece with a floral wrap skirt tied at her waist. Noah was already in bright green swim trunks with dinosaurs on them, floaties secured around his arms.
"I'm strategizing," I said solemnly. "Cannonball versus graceful dive. Life's big decisions."
Allison laughed, the sound light and easy. It was nice to see her relaxed for once. She always seemed so tense at the café, especially when checking her phone. Today, I noticed her phone was nowhere in sight.
"Noah votes cannonball," she said. "Right, buddy?"
"CANNONBALL!" Noah shouted with far more volume than his tiny body should have been capable of producing.
"The people have spoken," I said with a dramatic sigh, then took three steps back.
I ran forward and launched myself into the air, tucking my knees to my chest just before hitting the water. The cool shock of submersion was immediately followed by the muffled sounds of cheers and applause as I surfaced, pushing wet hair from my eyes.
"Solid eight out of ten," called Paige from the outdoor kitchen. "Points deducted for minimal splash radius."
"I was being considerate of Grace's book," I protested, nodding toward where Grace had indeed covered her clipped-together pages with her towel at my approach.
"Smart girl," Grace said approvingly.
I looked at the stack of papers in her lap. "Another one? Didn't you just publish one like five minutes ago?" I asked, swimming to the edge of the pool nearest her chair.
"That's the publishing cycle, Sugar. Write one, edit another, promote a third. It's like having triplets at different developmental stages."
"My mom has supernatural powers," Sarah explained, guiding her flamingo raft closer. "She doesn't sleep, she simply recharges while her fingers continue typing."
"If only," Grace sighed dramatically. "Speaking of my books, my cousin called this morning in absolute hysterics."
Everyone paused what they were doing, turning toward Grace with expressions of concern.
"Is she okay?" Jenna asked, setting down a tray of what looked like miniature quiches.
"Physically, yes. Emotionally, devastated." Grace took another sip of her drink. "Apparently, she's received three strongly worded emails from her bridge club members about how I murdered their favorite character in my last book."
"Oh no," Paige said, though she was clearly fighting a smile. "Not the bridge club!"
"Oh yes," Grace confirmed gravely. "Apparently Meredith Anderson—you know, the one with the poodle that's dyed to match her outfits?—told my cousin that she's related to a 'literary sociopath' who 'toys with readers' emotions like a cat with a wounded bird.'"
"That's... oddly specific," Aunt Elyse remarked.
"And honestly, kind of a compliment," I added. "I mean, isn't that the point? To make people care so much they get mad when you kill someone?"
Grace pointed at me approvingly. "Exactly! Thank you, Holly. At least someone understands artistic integrity."
"So what did your cousin say to them?" Sarah asked.
Grace's face broke into a wicked grin. "She told them if they thought this was bad, wait until the next book, where I kill off TWO characters they love."
"You didn't!" Jenna gasped.
"I don't, actually. But my cousin doesn't know that, and neither do the bridge ladies. They'll be on tenterhooks for months."
Everyone burst out laughing, and I found myself laughing along, feeling unexpectedly comfortable in this circle of women.
Six months ago, I would have been lurking at the edges, convinced I didn't belong in their adult world.
Now it felt... not quite like I was one of them, but like I had a place among them. A voice that was heard.
Noah had been lowered into the shallow end by his mom and was now splashing happily with a pool noodle, supervised by Sarah's twins who had appointed themselves his official lifeguards.
"Holly, would you mind keeping an eye on Noah for a moment?" Allison asked. "I need to help Jenna bring out the rest of the food."
"Sure," I agreed, swimming over to the shallow end where Noah was attempting to balance on his noodle like a seahorse.
"Hey bud," I said. "Wanna see something cool?"
I showed him how to use the noodle as a water cannon by blowing through one end, making him giggle uncontrollably. We were in the middle of a water cannon battle when the unmistakable rumble of a motorcycle engine cut through the music.
"Cat's here!" Paige announced, heading toward the side gate.
Moments later, Cat strode in wearing black motorcycle leathers despite the ninety-degree heat. Her helmet was tucked under one arm, and her short natural hair was slightly flattened from wearing it.
"Sorry I'm late," she called. "Had to handle something at the café."
"Well, you're just in time for food," Paige said. "And to see Kari. Where did she go?" She glanced around the patio.
A tall woman with wild, curly blonde hair emerged from the house, carrying a tray of glasses. "Right here! Just refreshing the drinks."
"Kari's visiting for the week," Paige explained to me, "but I'm working on convincing her to make it permanent."
"Actually," Kari said, setting down the tray of drinks, "that might not be such a far-fetched idea anymore."
Paige froze mid-motion, a look of shock crossing her face. "Wait, what? Are you serious?"
"I'm seriously considering relocating Nick and I down here now that the boys are settled in school," Kari said, removing the glasses one by one and setting them on the counter.
As the party shifted into celebration mode, I found myself helping Jenna arrange a tray of her famous almond croissants on a large dining table near the pool.
"These look incredible," I said, admiring the perfect golden crescents. "Way better than the batch we made on Tuesday."
"Practice makes perfect," Jenna said with a modest smile. "And you're getting better every day. That chocolate ganache you made yesterday was spot-on."
A warm glow of pride spread through my chest. "Really? I thought it was a little too thick."
"It was perfect for the eclairs. Sometimes recipes need to be adjusted based on the application." She nudged my shoulder gently. "You have good instincts, Holly. Trust them."
"I love working at the bakery," I admitted. "It's... I don't know. Satisfying? Making something from scratch and seeing people enjoy it."
"That's exactly why I do it," Jenna said. "The joy of creation. It's therapeutic."
"Plus, you get to be your own boss," I added. "No one telling you what to do or how to do it."
Something flickered across Jenna's face—a shadow of remembered pain that was quickly replaced by determination. "That's a big part of it, yes. Freedom is... precious."
I nodded, understanding more than she probably realized. Freedom wasn't just about doing what you wanted; sometimes it was about being safe from what you didn't want.
Our conversation was interrupted by Cat, who had changed into a swimsuit but was now approaching Grace with an unusually serious expression. She bent down and whispered something in Grace's ear that made the older woman sit up straight, all traces of relaxation vanishing from her posture.
Without a word to anyone else, the two women headed into the house, their body language tense and purposeful.
"What was that about?" I asked Jenna, who had also noticed the exchange.
She shook her head. "Not sure. But those two have their own wavelength sometimes."
"They looked worried," I observed.
"Our group has a lot of history," Jenna said with a small smile. "Some of it complicated. But we always have each other's backs."
I thought about how they'd rallied around Jenna when her ex-husband went to jail, how they'd welcomed Allison into their circle, how they'd embraced me without hesitation. There was something special about this group of women—a fierceness in how they protected their own.
A few minutes later, Cat and Grace emerged from the house, their expressions grave. Whatever they'd discussed had clearly been serious. They rejoined the party, but I noticed they both kept glancing at Allison, who was helping Noah practice floating on his back.
Thankfully, the tense moment was shattered by a blur of golden fur streaking across the patio.
"Roxy, no!" Paige shouted as her golden retriever (who was supposed to be confined to the house during the party) made a beeline for the pool and launched herself into the air with joyful abandon.
The dog hit the water with a spectacular splash, sending a wave over everyone nearby. Noah shrieked with delight as Roxy paddled toward him, tongue lolling out the side of her mouth.
"So much for keeping the food dry," Aunt Elyse laughed, wiping water from her face.
The sudden canine chaos broke the serious mood. Even Cat and Grace were smiling now as Roxy performed an impromptu water ballet, swimming in circles and occasionally shaking her wet fur all over anyone who came too close.
"I swear I locked the door," Paige said, hands on hips but unable to maintain her stern expression as Roxy paddled up to Noah and gave him a slobbery kiss.
"She's a genius," I declared. "A lock-picking, water-loving genius."
As the afternoon wore on, I found myself floating peacefully on a raft, watching the women laugh and talk and exist comfortably together.
They were so different from each other: Grace with her designer swimsuit and perfect manicure, Cat with her motorcycle leathers now draped over a chair, Sarah mothering everyone (including the adults), Paige playing enthusiastic hostess, Jenna quietly ensuring everyone was fed, and Aunt Elyse somehow connecting them all together.
I'd never had female friendships like this—deep, complicated, enduring. My life had been too chaotic, too focused on survival to nurture such connections. But watching them, I thought maybe someday I could build something similar. They made it look worth the effort.
Noah swam over to my raft, his floaties keeping him buoyant. "Holly! Watch me blow bubbles!"
He dunked his face in the water and came up sputtering but proud.
"Amazing bubbles," I assured him. "Olympic-level bubble blowing."
He beamed at me, water dripping from his eyelashes. "When I grow up, I'm gonna be a baker like you and Miss Jenna."
Something warm and unexpected unfurled in my chest. "Yeah? You'd be great at it. You already make awesome Play-Doh cookies."
"Can I come to the bakery? To help?"
"I'll talk to Miss Jenna and find a time," I told him, and meant it. "We bakers have to stick together."
As he paddled away, I caught Aunt Elyse watching us, a soft smile on her face. She raised her glass in a tiny toast, just between us, and I felt that sense of belonging grow stronger. Not just with her and Uncle Drew, but with this whole makeshift family they'd built around themselves.
"Oh, I almost forgot to tell you," she said, setting her cup to the side. "I talked to the registrar at the community college about that photography summer class you mentioned. They're holding a spot for you if you want it."
I nearly choked on my cherry cola. "Seriously? But the application deadline was last week, and I didn't get mine finished in time."
She shrugged, a small smile playing at her lips. "I might have pulled a few strings. The program director is a bookstore customer. And once she saw your portfolio..."
"You showed her my photos?" I asked, somewhere between embarrassed and flattered.
"Hope that's okay. We wanted it to be a surprise, but we didn't want to submit your work without permission."
"It's... wow. Thank you." I was genuinely stunned. The privilege of being in that class was competitive, expensive, and exactly what I wanted to do. And they had made it happen, just because they knew it mattered to me.
"You earned it," Aunt Elyse said simply. "Your talent got you in, not our string-pulling."
There was no expectation of gratitude in her voice, no subtle reminder of what I owed them. Just pride. Support. Love.
Maybe this was what home really meant. Not a place, but people who saw you, who made space for you, who celebrated your bubbles and your croissants and your cannonballs with equal enthusiasm.
I closed my eyes, letting the sun warm my face, the water rock my raft, and the sound of laughter wash over me. For the first time in a long time, I wasn't waiting for it all to disappear. I was at peace in the middle of it.