Page 33 of Forget That Guy
Meanwhile, we’d taken Holly’s car to Court’s shop and gotten him to fix it as best as he could.
Which, inevitably, wasn’t much.
There was only so much you could do with a car that’d been used hard and put up wet.
“Why don’t you just drive the farm truck?” Cat suggested. “It’s not like we drive it. It sits there, and then Dad complains when we don’t use it. He keeps the insurance up on it, and it runs. The only problem is, it’s a rough ride.”
My girls had been driving since they were old enough to hold the wheel straight. And they definitely had favorite vehicles to drive. The oldest farm truck, a 1978 Ford, was a bit rough around the edges. But it drove like a dream and was sentimental. I’d never get rid of it.
“I couldn’t…”
“It’s actually part of the contract.” Cat pointed to the middle paragraph. “Dad knows how rough the roads are out here. Aunt Sorcha can’t even get her little Beemer down the road to the ranch anymore. She has to bring Uncle Major’s truck.”
“It’s on my to-do list to fix.”
It’d been at the bottom of my list for months. But since it didn’t really affect me, it wasn’t something I was going to get fixed right away.
“So that’s settled.” Cat nuzzled the dog to her face. “We’ll all go help you pack tomorrow. Then Dad can come over and lift the heavy stuff. Do you have a lot of heavy stuff?”
“No.” Holly shook her head, unused to getting railroaded.
Holly’s and my gaze met over the top of Cat’s head.
Welcome to my life, my gaze said.
She widened hers at me, but then looked away, back to her food that she’d pretty much finished.
“What’s settled?” Joe asked as she came into the room wearing a baggy sweatshirt that had been mine once upon a time. If I didn’t look too hard and squinted, I could almost pretend that she hadn’t gotten knocked up.
“Holly’s moving in. We’re helping her move tomorrow. She’s coming to the barbecue, and she’s also going to be driving Dad’s old truck,” DeeDee said as she set the ice cream down in front of me with a spoon. “Can you finish scooping this out for me? It’s hard.”
I did as asked, giving her way more than she wanted.
Holly eyed the carton with longing.
“Want some?” I tilted it toward her.
There wasn’t much, but enough to hit the spot.
“I shouldn’t…”
“Here.” DeeDee slid a spoon across the table at her. “What kind of ice cream is your favorite?”
SEVEN
Don’t ever be scared to cancel plans with me. I probably don’t want to go anyway.
—Holly’s secret thoughts
HOLLY
I was staring at the brand-new kitchen in my new apartment, with all of my stuff not only around me, but unpacked and in place, and wondering how my life had changed so quickly.
Yesterday, I’d been in my apartment wondering what was next for me.
Today, I was some thirteen-year-old’s bitch.
“Are you ready?” DeeDee asked.
