“Holly,” he protested but she cut him off.
“You give and give Molson. Who is giving anything to you?” she asked, tears in her eyes. “I love you. I want to be right here with you.”
“You can’t,” Molson told her.
“Why not?” she demanded.
“Because they’re right,” he said miserably. “To get Michael out of jail I had to promise a favor to Tremblay. He’ll collect and it won’t be pretty. I might be drawn in to the gang for the rest of my life. If anything goes wrong and you’re my girl, you’ll be the first to suffer for it. I don’t want that. I don’t want you to take that risk.”
“Shouldn’t that be my choice?” Holly wiped away a tear. “Shouldn’t I be the one to decide whether the risk is worth it to me?”
“What about kids, Holly?” Molson used his most persuasive argument, knowing how much she adored children. “What if we had kids at some point? Could you live with yourself if their lives were put in danger because of Tremblay?”
There was a moment while Holly contemplated his words. She jutted her chin out stubbornly. “Life isn’t safe. Things happen all the time. It’s who we choose to make the journey with that makes life worth living.”
Molson could have torn his hair out. He looked to Fielding. “Can’t you reason with her? I know you hate my guts. Make her understand.”
“I don’t hate your guts,” Fielding admitted grudgingly. “I can even respect you for what you’re doing here with your street ministry. Are you my first choice for my daughter? Not even close. I don’t like you. But you are her choice. As much as I don’t like it, I will respect it.”
Molson stared at him in shock. Just a few days ago Fielding was doing everything he could to make Molson’s life miserable, including warning him away from Holly. He wondered what had changed.
“Molson, I love you. I am not going to let you push me away,” Holly wrapped her arms around him.
His arms stole around her of their own accord, Molson embraced her tightly, giving in. He didn’t want her out of his life.
“I love you,” he whispered in her ear and could feel her smile against him.
Fielding cleared his throat. “I expect I’ll see you Monday morning. Don’t be late.”
“Say again?” Molson was confused. “What about Monday morning?”
“The practicum. I’m not going to have my daughter going around with a bum,” Fielding groused gruffly. “You’ll work hard and graduate the program.”
“You’re letting me back in,” Molson echoed, disbelieving what he was hearing.
“You need to be there and put in the work,” Fielding warned. “I also want to know how you’ve been getting such good test scores. They’re nearly perfect each time.”
“Eidetic memory,” Molson answered truthfully. “I remember most everything that I bother to pay attention to. Means I don’t need to study. I never cheated.”
Fielding grunted as he thought out and then slowly accepted Molson’s words. He hefted the duffle bag full of supplies. “We’d better keep going if we intend to get this done today. There are more people waiting.”
“You’re gonna help?” Molson asked, wondering who had replaced his irate supervisor with this moderately grumpy man.
“The more people you have with you, the safer Holly is,” Fielding answered.
Molson couldn’t fault his reasoning. “Alright.”
Holly took his hand and they moved forward to continue working along the route, helping people along the way.
