After I grab the coffee I promised Magnolia, I feel a little less on edge. My mind’s been racing since I left Mr. Yates’ office and I really need to talk everything over with her.
I slide out of my truck carefully with the coffees, shutting the door with a little shove of my foot. So intent on heading to the treehouse where she’s waiting for me, I don’t immediately notice the woman standing a few feet away until I nearly collide with her.
Arms crossed over what I know is an expensive silk blouse, her chin raised primly, Mrs. Barton eyes me before her gaze flicks to where Magnolia’s car sits in my driveway.
“I’ve given you more than your fair share of passes.” She steps closer and uncrosses her arms. Her upper lip curls slightly with distaste. “You don’t seem to pick up on the clues. You may have lost your daddy, but that doesn’t mean I’m handin’ over my daughter as a token of my sympathy.”
One perfectly manicured index finger pokes me in the chest. “You’re not welcome in our home and never will be.” She punctuates this with another jab of her finger, and I swear it seems to puncture deep to my core. “You’re not good enough for her, and so help me, God, if you don’t leave that poor girl alone once and for all, you’ll regret it.
“Y’all have some sort of co-dependent relationship, and it’s not healthy. Let her have a life of her own without you always hoverin’ on the sides.” Her mouth flattens to a severe line. “Now, you’re goin’ to send my daughter back home, since I refuse to”—she waves a hand dismissively toward the backyard—“even touch that termite haven of yours. And tell her to turn on her phone.” Her eyes narrow dangerously. “Are we clear?”
I grit my teeth before I force a calm response. “Yes, ma’am.”
Like a switch has flipped, she turns on a smile so fake I’m hit with a wave of nausea. “Good. You have yourself a lovely day, now.” She spins around and strides away quickly across the lawn to her house. As if it’s a second thought, she tosses over her shoulder, “My deepest sympathies again for your loss.”
I stand at the edge of my driveway with a sick churning in my stomach. What the fuck was I thinking? Every heavy step I take, crossing through the backyard, seems to emphasize another reminder.
I’m not good enough.
I don’t have money or expensive clothes.
I don’t even know what I want to do with my life. Hell, I’m still unsure about my damn major.
Of course, what ricochets through my brain, screaming louder than all the other thoughts, is the point Mrs. Barton made.
Y’all have some sort of co-dependent relationship, and it’s not healthy.
As much as I despise having that woman in my head, I can’t deny she’s right. Magnolia and I have never ventured off, separately, before. Not really. We’ve always had each other as backup of some sort.
Am I preventing her from living her own life?
As I hover at the base of the steps, the thought settles inside me, weighing heavily. Pain lances through me, ricocheting deep in my heart. And, even through the stifling haze of pain and regret, the realization of what road I need to choose becomes clear.
Drawing in a few deep breaths, I set the coffees on top of one another and grip them in my hand while I carefully climb up into the treehouse.
Magnolia’s dressed and lies propped up in bed with my cheap edition of Shakespeare’s sonnets in her hand. As soon as she sees me, the widest, happiest smile spreads across her face. It only causes a searing pain to radiate through me, knowing what I have to do.
It must be written on my face because her smile wavers. “Hollis?”
I hand her the coffee before I lean against a wall and toy with the coffee sleeve on my cup. “We need to talk.”
Her laugh is a little forced. “Even I know when a guy says that, it’s never good.”
I force myself to be calm, to get everything out. Setting my coffee on the small shelf, I start, “I, uh, sat in the attorney’s office for a while after I signed all the paperwork. I have the house, and I’m in charge of givin’ my mom an allowance.” I make a face. “Which is weird,” I continue, “but I realized that this entire year I’ve been goin’ through the motions, not really sure what I want to major in, let alone do with my life.”
Magnolia watches me, listening patiently, which urges me to press on.
“I’m plannin’ to take my uncle’s apprenticeship offer.” I shrug. “It’s the one thing I’ve always loved.”
Her eyes regard me before she carefully asks, “So, you won’t be goin’ back to school?”
I shake my head slowly. “No.”
“And…” She hesitates, lowering her eyes. “What about us?”
Two invisible fists reach inside me to clench my lungs, ridding me of the ability to breathe. When I don’t answer, her eyes lift to mine, and it’s an instant punch to the solar plexus. I hate the pain etched on her features—it’s fucking torture knowing I’m hurting her—but after her mom’s words settled in my brain, I feel like this is the only way.
Hell, both our moms have always said I’m not good enough for her.
I don’t realize I’ve spoken the thought out loud until she sets her coffee down and jumps up from the mattress. “I don’t care what they say! I can transfer where you are and—”
“No.” I shake my head. “There’s no way you can throw away Auburn for another school. That’d be a huge mistake, and we both know it.”
She reaches for me. “Please don’t do this. We can make it work.”
“How?” I explode so suddenly she rears back in shock. “How can we do that? We’ve always been together, every step of the way. How do we know we’re not better off apart?”
Her mouth flattens in a thin line. She holds my gaze, her chin lifting stubbornly. “Because I love you, Hollis. That’s how I know.”
My eyes close briefly on a painful wince, her words stabbing me clean through. Fuck, how I wish she meant those words. That there wasn’t the silent But not like that tacked on the end.
I let out a defeated sigh. “I don’t know what I want to do with my life, Shortcake. I can’t hold on to you while I’m like this. You need to find someone who’s…better for you. Who your family approves of.” My voice cracks, and I swallow hard past the tightness in my throat. “We both know that’ll never be me.”
“But, Hollis…” The way her voice wobbles on my name drives that invisible knife deeper into the center of my chest. “We can—”
“No.” My tone is firm. Final. I refuse to let her throw her life away for me.
Her brows clash, the fine lines between them more pronounced. The longest beat of silence hangs between us, the air vibrating with tension.
Finally, she lets out a shaky breath and I can practically feel the instant she gives in to defeat. “Are we still friends?” Her voice catches on the last word, the sheen of tears brimming in her eyes.
“Always.”
I barely get the word out before she launches herself at me, wrapping her arms around my waist so tight I can barely breathe. Holding her close, I press my lips to her hair and close my eyes to savor the moment.