“I have time.”
“I don’t even know where to start.”
“The beginning?”
I took a shaky breath. My siblings had lived in blissful ignorance of the Thompson secret foryears. What should I leave out? I was able to skirt around the beginnings with Estelle and Jackie that night after the rehearsal dinner, but something told me Bea wouldn't let me off so easily.
“The beginning is ugly, Bea. I’ve never told anyone.”
“That’s a great reason to finally speak up.” I was silent for so long that her hand slipped down my forearms and grasped my fingers, “Did someone hurt you, Hollie? You’re scaring me.”
I shook my head, a few tears racing down my cheeks. “No. It’s—it’s about Mom and Dad. And the stupid way I reacted to something terrible they did. And my marriage—it fell apart, Bea.”
When I glanced up at her, I saw a mirror of my eyes and tears. But instead of fear, courage radiated from her gaze. She squeezed my hand, infusing me with a little bit of her strength. “Tell me.”
NINETEEN
Hollie
Seventeen Years Old
Dad entered my bedroom and softly closed the door behind him. “Hey, Jolly girl.” Even though his lips quirked up on one side, his eyes didn’t smile. “Thanks for letting me have a minute.”
“Anything for you.” I tried to smile, too.
He dragged my desk chair closer to the side of my bed where I sat against the headboard. With a deep sigh, he sat down, not looking me in the face. Watching his lips twitch as he fought emotions tore my heart to pieces. It had been three whole weeks since my blow-up in the living room. And they were some of the rockiest weeks of my life. I constantly held my breath, waiting for the moment when doors would slam, Mom and Dad would scream, or Dad would roll a suitcase out to his Toyota truck.
But it never came.
Things were quiet. Eerily so.
Mom’s dealings with me stayed at a minimum. She didn’t raise her voice at me, didn’t ask for help with the other kids. She wouldn’teven look at me. She’d lost weight, her cheeks turned pale, and purple circles formed beneath her eyes.
Maybe I should’ve felt sorry for her, but I didn’t.
Everything I had idolized about her—evaporated. Every ounce of my respect—gone.
Finally, he said, “I wanted to talk with you, one on one, before talking to the family.”
Relief flooded my chest. Thank goodness he would finally tell the family what happened. I was on the verge of exploding all the time with the effort of trying to hold it in. My inability to cope with it all was hurting my relationships with my siblings.
“It’s about Peter’s doctor appointment.”
“What?” My head snapped up, my brow knitting in confusion. “I thought this was about?—”
His inhale trembled. “Please, just listen. I know you have questions about Mom and I, but this is a lot more important.”
I sat up as my arms erupted in chills. “Is…is Peter okay?”
“I hope so. The doctor said Peter’s blood work looks suspicious for leukemia.”
I gasped. “What?”
He held his hand out to stop my spiral. “A bone marrow test is needed to be sure, but?—”
“No, that can’t be. He’s just been tired. He’ll be?—”
Dad swallowed, frustrated with me for interrupting again. “Hollie.”
