I nod ahead. “My mom.”
She follows my gaze. There’s a brief pause, just a second, where I feel her take that in.
“How long has it been since you have seen her?” Becca asks.
“Months, and it didn’t end on a good note.”
“Okay,” she says, surprised.
Holly turns and spots us before I can decide what to do. Her face lights up.
“Becca, Sam!” she calls, already waving us over. “Oh my god, you’re here.” There’s no hesitation in her calling out to us.
We walk up, and she pulls me into a quick hug before stepping back, looking between us.
“Hi,” she says to Becca, softer now, but not guarded. “Don’t you two look all gooey and happy?”
Becca laughs, “Thanks, we are.” My heart beams. I grab her hand in mine and bring it to my lips.
Holly shifts her weight excitedly, like she’s holding something in and can’t anymore.
“Okay, I have to tell you something,” she says, already halfway into it. “I went down to the permit office this week—by myself, before you say anything—and the inspector signed off!”
I blink. “Wait. What?”
She nods, fast. “Everything, we got the final approvals. We’re cleared!”
I feel something loosen in my chest; I didn’t realize it was still tight.
“That’s … huge,” I say.
“I know.” She is grinning now. “We’re doing a soft opening next week. Like, actually doing it.”
I glance at Becca. She’s watching Holly, and there’s something in her expression I don’t see often, pride.
“You did that on your own?” Becca asks.
Holly lifts a shoulder, trying to play it down. “Yeah. I mean, you guys have enough going on. I figured I could at least handle one thing without calling Sam five times.”
I huff. “Only five?”
She rolls her eyes. “Okay, rude.”
But she’s smiling. Becca steps a little closer. “That’s really impressive, Holly, taking the initiative in something so foreign to you.”
The compliment makes Holly straighten up, feeling ten feet taller. You can see it. Holly’s eyes get a little misty, like she didn’t realize how much she needed to hear that.
“Thanks,” she says. “I’m trying to … not screw this up.”
“You won’t,” Becca says simply.
I glance between them, something settling into place that wasn’t there before. With the salon opening up and our grandparents’ house money no longer between us, their relationship can be built on how it should have always been.
As I bask in this moment of rightness, I feel my mom’s gaze. She hasn’t said anything yet, but she’s watching Becca now, with a look of caution.
I shift slightly, instinct kicking in, but Becca doesn’t move back. If anything, she squares her shoulders just a little. My mom clears her throat, assuring she has our attention.
“Rebecca,” she says. “Samuel.”
