Her voice softens. “Is this my fault?”
“No. It’s mine. You never asked for more than I gave. I just gave you everything anyway. Becca never said anything; she was always so damn independent. But that doesn’t mean I should have ever put anyone’s needs before hers. I should’ve let you figure things out on your own instead of jumping in and helping every time.”
“I didn’t realize …” She looks around in shame. “God, I’m so sorry.”
I wrap her in a hug. “I’m proud of you, Hols. Always have been. But I should’ve protected Becca too. I didn’t. That’s on me.”
She pulls back, glancing around the shop again, slower this time. “Okay … I have an idea. I’m going to the Cascadia Farmer’s Market tomorrow to promote the salon. We’re doing mini makeovers, handing out samples. It was something I found in a book Becca recommended.”
That knocks the wind out of me. “She’s helping you?”
“She’s giving me advice,” she says quickly. “But I’m doing it on my own. She helped me think through a business plan, pointed me to some resources. I built the website myself, it’s a little clunky, but it’s getting traffic.”
She hesitates, then gestures to the furniture.
“These shouldn’t be sitting here, Sam. People would buy this. We could bring a few pieces to the market from your 'rejected' pile, see what happens,” she offers with a smile.
Of course, Becca helped. With every right to walk awayfrom all of us, she is still showing up. Her heart has always been bigger than she lets others believe.
“That’s who she is,” I say quietly. “She shows up—even when no one showed up for her. Doesn’t mean she should have had to.”
“I know,” Holly quietly responds, averting her eyes.
“You know she’s never gotten the credit she deserves,” I add, throat tightening. “Not from you. Not from our family. Definitely not from me.”
“I know.” Holly winces. “I was … Judgy sometimes. And I let Mandy say things I shouldn’t have let slide. It’s embarrassing to look back and think I looked down on her for tracking all her expenses.”
“You didn’t just let Mandy say things, you followed her lead, never made an effort.”
Holly flinches. It’s the first time I’ve raised my voice at her since we were kids. Probably when I was thirteen, and she kept stealing my Don Mattingly rookie baseball card because she thought he was “cute.”
“I know. I’ve idolized Mandy forever. I basically ran every life decision through a ‘What Would Mandy Do?’ filter.” She gives a bitter laugh. “Turns out, not always the best strategy.”
I stare at her, stunned. That’s probably the most self-aware thing I’ve ever heard her say.
She pushes on. “That’s actually why I came out here. I think we need to talk about Mandy. And Rick.”
Everything in me goes cold. “What about them?”
Holly sits on the edge of my workbench, serious now. “After Becca got me thinking, I realized something. Right after I told Mandy I wanted to open my own salon, she told me Rick Saunders was interested. She pushed to get you involved. Said you’d love the project. That it’d be perfect.”She shakes her head. “It happened fast. Too fast. She said it’d be good for you to help me. That Rick had this amazing location, and we needed to move now.”
I clench my jaw. I remember that pitch. I was primed to say yes—because Mandy brought in Rick, whom I wanted to work with, and Holly looked so hopeful.
“What’s your concern?” I ask carefully.
Holly swallows. “Mandy’s been asking me for money. A lot.”
“What?” My voice spikes. “Her dad owns the damn country club!”
“He cut her off. Apparently, she got too cozy with the married golfers.”
Jesus. I drag a hand over my face.
“What about the money from our grandparents’ house? We send it every month in our rent-to-own agreement, which they set up. We get the mega-discounted home, and you get the cash.”
“I gave her some … a lot of it recently. First month’s rent, deposits, and her little emergencies. And, well, on myself too. Purses and shoes aren’t cheap.”
My head spins. Becca and I scraped by for years, pinching pennies, working our asses off to make our dreams come true. And Holly gave this money to someone who’s been manipulating both of us and buying stupid purses?
