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But nothing can prepare me for what I find inside. And I’m not talking about the empty beer cans and liquor bottles, or the overflowing garbage and ash trays.
“Holly! So nice to see you!” Amanda beams from her seat in the front room, my mom sitting next to her with her brows drawn together in a frown. “Someone’s on Santa’s naughty list, I think.”
“What’s going on?” I say, glaring, but my mom shakes her head.
Cole addresses Amanda. “You did this, didn’t you?” He shakes his head, looking like he’s about to reach over and snap her neck.
Amanda smirks at me. “Saw your little lunch with Santa yesterday. Got to talking with your mom, guess no one knew about you two. Sorry.” She mocks us both with a fake pout.
“You know this is going to screw everything up.” My mother glares at me. He’s your Dad’s business partner, for God’s sake, you want to ruin everything we have going here? Do you have the money?”
I want to tell her she’s the one ruining things, but instead I nod. “I got it for you. What do you need it for?” I hold the money out to and she stands to snatch it from my hand as Cole and my dad start arguing again behind me. It’s getting difficult to concentrate.
“Bills, Holly, there are bills to keep this house going.”
I clasp my hand to my forehead, trying to steady my nerves as my dad screams at Cole. “You stay away from my fucking daughter man. I thought we were friends…”
“Why do you need cash, mom?” I ask, unable to settle myself as a fury begins swirling inside of me. “And why am I only just hearing about this bill?”
She hesitates before answering. “Well, I already paid the bill, didn’t I? So, this money is to pay me back. You have to contribute while you’re living here, Holly. Especially if you’re going to be off sleeping with all your dad’s friends, the least you can do is get some money for—”
“I already pre-paid you rent and some extra. That’s all I had.”
Amanda snickers. “Grown woman, still living with her mom and whining about paying rent. Too bad no man will even look at you, or you could get yourself a nice little sugar daddy.”
Cole’s voice is deep behind me. “Martin, you need to calm the fuck down. I’m not going to fight you but I will not let you disrespect Holly.”
It’s all too much. I can’t work out how to handle this. The nice Holly, the one that just takes whatever everyone throws at her, is struggling to see a way forward. My head is hurting. My nerves are shattered. I just want to hide behind Cole and let him take care of all of it, but I can’t.
He said I had to be a bitch sometimes. Maybe that’s the way forward? Maybe if I was more of a bitch, none of this would have happened.
Amanda’s words echo in my head: no man will even look at you. Sugar daddy. Daddy…
My mother keeps going on about being responsible while Amanda is twisting the knife, backing her up and sitting there looking like she’s in the middle of a circus.
My dad and Cole’s voices rise and I snap.
“EVERYONE SHUT THE HELL UP!” I scream, my hands on the sides of my head like a crazy person and like a little bit of Christmas magic, they all fall silent.
Eleven
Cole
HOLLY FIRST POINTS at Amanda. “Amanda, get out of this house. You don’t live here, you’re not my friend and you never ever will be.” Holly steps toward Amanda and to my surprise she actually stands from her seat and takes a step back.
Then she smirks. “Psycho bitch. It’s not your house, it’s your mom’s.”
But she’s clearly not expecting the slap. It comes so fast, I don’t think anyone sees Holly’s arm move. She clips her good, and Amanda’s eyes go wide. “I said, get out. I don’t know what sort of burr you’ve had under your saddle for me all these years but I’m D.O.N.E. being your punching bag. GET. OUT.” Holly japs her finger at the door and Amanda gives her a dirty look but doesn’t speak.
The silence is so crisp, I’m surprised it doesn’t crunch like snow under Amanda’s stiletto heels as she makes her way through the door, swearing as she goes out into the street.
But Holly isn’t done and it takes a lot of willpower not to slow clap in encouragement.
“Mom, I love you, but you need to respect me. And you need to have more respect for yourself. I’ve already given you money for rent and bills since I moved home, so unless you can give me an actual reason why you need the money I earned, I’m going to need it back.” She stands up straighter, raising her chin as she holds out her hand, palm up, waiting.
