Chapter 30 Holly
HOLLY
I'd never been one for scrapbooks or photo albums. Mom wasn't exactly the type to document milestones.
Half the time, she'd forgotten my school picture days entirely.
The other half, she'd managed to scrape together enough cash for the cheapest package, but those photos usually disappeared into the chaotic void of whatever apartment we were living in at the time.
So the leather-bound album I was currently holding felt foreign in my hands. Heavy. Important.
"Are you sure about this?" I asked, looking up at Elyse. She was perched on the edge of my bed, freshly made with the teal comforter we'd picked out together at HomeGoods.
"The album?" She smiled. "It's just a place to keep memories, Holly. No pressure."
"No, I mean..." I gestured vaguely around my room—my room, not the guest room, not a temporary space—with its newly painted walls and the cork board already filled with photos from Jenna's bakery and selfies with my new friends from photography class.
"What we talked about. The adoption. Taking me on permanently when I come with so much. .. baggage."
Aunt Elyse's expression softened, but before she could answer, Uncle Drew appeared in the doorway balancing three mugs of hot chocolate, Eden trotting faithfully at his heels.
"Did someone order liquid dessert?" he asked, then paused, reading the room. "Am I interrupting something profound?"
"Holly was just questioning our judgment in adopting a teenager who thinks purple hair and staying up until two a.m. are good life choices," Aunt Elyse said with a wink.
I rolled my eyes, but couldn't suppress my smile. "I was not. The purple hair was clearly an excellent decision."
Uncle Drew handed me a mug topped with a ridiculous amount of whipped cream. "The hair? Definitely. The sleep schedule? Debatable."
Eden, sensing the opportunity for scraps, positioned herself strategically at my feet, her eyes locked on the whipped cream mountain.
"Not for dogs," I told her sternly. She responded by placing one paw dramatically on my knee. "The puppy eyes don't work on me."
"Liar," Uncle Drew coughed into his hand.
"I heard that!" I dipped my finger into the whipped cream and let Eden lick it off. "And I never claimed to be strong."
Aunt Elyse laughed, then pointed to the box I'd pulled from beneath my bed. "So what's in there? You've been guarding it like it contains nuclear launch codes."
I set down my mug and pulled the battered shoebox onto my lap. It had traveled with me from apartment to apartment, to my grandparents' house, and finally here. The cardboard was soft at the corners, held together with multiple layers of tape.
"Just some stuff I've kept. Nothing special." But my fingers trembled slightly as I removed the lid.
Inside was an odd assortment of items that probably looked like junk to anyone else. A faded pink hair ribbon. A plastic sheriff's badge. A small gray rock with a stripe of quartz running through it. A wrinkled Polaroid. A handful of movie ticket stubs.
I carefully removed the Polaroid and handed it to Aunt Elyse. "This is the only picture I have of my mom where she looks... happy. Really happy, not just faking it."
The photo showed my mother younger, healthier, with the same dark hair I'd had before the pink dye, laughing at something off-camera, her arm around a much smaller version of me eating an ice cream cone bigger than my face.
"Clearwater Beach," Aunt Elyse said softly, recognizing the backdrop. "You couldn't have been more than five or six."
"It was a good day," I said simply. "One of the good ones."
Uncle Drew sat on my other side, the bed dipping under his weight. Eden immediately abandoned her whipped cream surveillance to jump up and settle across all our laps, making us laugh.
"Eden! You are not a lapdog," Uncle Drew protested, though he made no move to push her off.
"She obviously disagrees," I said, scratching behind her ears. "Anyway, I was thinking maybe I could put that picture in the album. And maybe add some new ones too."
Aunt Elyse's eyes glistened suspiciously. "I think that would be perfect, Holly."
I reached back into the box and pulled out the plastic sheriff's badge. "And maybe this can finally be retired."
Uncle Drew took it, turning it over in his palm. "What's the story here?"
"When I was seven or eight, my mom disappeared for three days. Not the first time, but it was the longest at that point." I traced the star with my finger. "When she came back, she gave me this and told me I was the sheriff of keeping our stuff safe while she was gone. Like it was a game."
I expected pity in their eyes, but instead, Uncle Drew just nodded thoughtfully. "And did you? Keep things safe?"
"I tried." I swallowed hard. "Didn't always work out. But I tried."
"Well, Sheriff," Aunt Elyse said, bumping my shoulder with hers, "you're officially off duty now. Retirement with full benefits."
"Benefits?" I raised an eyebrow.
"Unlimited dog snuggles," Uncle Drew said solemnly, gesturing to Eden, who chose that moment to let out an enormous snore.
"Unlimited hot chocolate," Aunt Elyse added.
"A bathroom you don't have to share with anyone who steals your expensive shampoo," Uncle Drew continued.
"He means me," Elyse stage-whispered.
"I absolutely mean her."
I laughed, the heaviness in my chest lifting. "I guess retirement has its perks."
I reached back into the box and pulled out the small gray rock.
"I found this the day I moved in with Grandma and Grandpa this last time.
I was so angry and scared, and I kicked at this rock in their driveway.
But when I picked it up to throw it, I saw the quartz stripe and.
.. I don't know. It felt like a sign that there might be something beautiful hidden in the hard, awful parts. "
Aunt Elyse wrapped her arm around my shoulders. "That's... incredibly profound for a kid to think."
"Or I just liked shiny things," I said with a shrug, deflecting the emotion that threatened to overwhelm me.
"Speaking of shiny things," Uncle Drew said, reaching into his pocket. "We got you something."
He pulled out a small velvet box and handed it to me. Inside was a gold necklace with three interlocking circles—one large and two slightly smaller.
"It's for the three of us," Aunt Elyse explained. "We're connected now. Solid gold official."
I ran my finger over the circles, a lump forming in my throat. "It's perfect," I managed to say.
"There's an inscription on the back," Aunt Elyse said.
I carefully turned the pendant over. Engraved in tiny letters were the words: Family: chosen, cherished, forever.
"I'm not crying," I announced as tears spilled down my cheeks. "It's allergies. Probably Eden."
Eden, hearing her name, raised her head and let out a particularly well-timed sneeze directly into Uncle Drew's face.
"Oh my GOD!" he spluttered, wiping his face with his sleeve while Aunt Elyse and I dissolved into breathless laughter.
"Perfect timing, Eden!" I gasped between giggles, hugging the dog's neck. "You're the real MVP."
"I've been a-gross-inated," Uncle Drew moaned dramatically. "Betrayed by my own dog."
As our laughter subsided, I carefully placed the necklace around my neck, the pendant settling just below my collarbone.
"Thank you," I said softly. "For everything. For taking me in when you didn't have to. For making room in your lives. For..." I gestured to the album, the newly painted walls, the cork board filling with memories. "For giving me a real home."
"Thank you for letting us," Aunt Elyse said, her voice thick with emotion. "For trusting us enough to stay."
"Even if you insist on baking at ungodly hours and using all the hot water," Uncle Drew added with a wink.
I placed the rock and the the badge back in the box, and the movie tickets into the first page of the new album, then carefully positioned the Polaroid next to them. There was plenty of empty space. Room for new memories, new beginnings.
"You know what this calls for?" Uncle Drew asked, standing up and displacing a disgruntled Eden. "Ice cream. Bigger than your face, if possible."
"It's almost ten at night," Aunt Elyse protested half-heartedly.
"And? Holly is about to become our daughter. I think that warrants breaking a few rules."
Our daughter. The words settled over me like a warm blanket.
"Well, when you put it that way," Aunt Elyse relented with a smile. "But we're taking separate cars because I am not waiting forty-five minutes while you two debate the merits of vanilla vs. chocolate."
"That was ONE time," Uncle Drew and I protested in unison, then looked at each other and burst out laughing.
As we headed downstairs, Eden bounding ahead excitedly as if she understood the word "ice cream," I touched the three circles around my neck and thought about the album waiting on my bed. Not just a collection of what was lost, but a foundation for what was being built.
Family. Chosen, cherished, forever.
And enough room for all the memories—old and new—that made me who I was.