Says the bottle!
I grit my teeth slightly. But mostly because he’s sort of right. I don’t want Holly to be sad either.
Holly flips the photo suddenly and a smiling teenage face beams up at us. The young woman has the same little freckle that Holly has between her eye and the bridge of her nose. The resemblance is obvious and her words make my chest ache.Not like I ever met her.
She slowly slides the photo alongside the others. It’s more faded. Bent around the edges. Under the studio light, there’s a splash milking the surface.
With a sigh, she pulls out scissors and I instinctively clutch her shoulder. “Are you cutting these?”
She nods. “For the project.”
“This photo looks special.”
Holly picks it up first. “It’s the only one of my dead sister I could find. The only photo since before I wasborn.”
She says this with a fascinated little laugh. But somewhere under it, she has big questions.
Trent’s hand hovers above the desk, too still. He swallows once, barely, like something thick is caught in his throat. Dead sibling. He knows this ache all too well. My chest is bleeding too.
“Mum says they all got burned in a fire,” Holly continues. “Lucky I found this, huh?” She goes to cut it and I halt her again.
“I have a better idea.” I take my phone and take a picture of the picture as clear as I can. “Start with the rest of your tree, and the next time you come, I’ll have this photo printed for you, so you have one you can cut up.”
“Not this one?” She waves faded green eyes and a beaming smile at me.
“None of the originals. Keep those, okay?” I hurriedly take snapshots of all the photos of Holly’s family. “When is your project due?”
“End of term.”
“Great. Focus on colouring the tree today.”
She nods and starts to draw an extra branch. In pencil, she lightly place-holds ‘Beth’.
Trent is still a picture of absolute calm with a stiffened, hovering hand. With each breath, and each of Holly’s innocent hums, the air grows tauter. It feels thin in my lungs. And... I abruptly lean in, asking Holly if she sees her grandparents much. She nods without looking up. “They’re old. They never remember my name!”
A moment later, she reaches for her green colouring pencil... but it’s gone.
Instead, in its place sits a fifty-cent coin.
She blinks. “Huuuuh?”
I tap the green pencil on the far side of the desk innocently, and when she glances at me with an impressed twinkle in her eye, I hand it to her. “Maybe your family tree is richer than you thought!”
“Can I keep the money?”
Trent makes a sound. A huff. Possibly, a huffed laugh. His eyes are brighter when I look at him, and his hand is once more resting against the desk.
A loud honk-honky-honk sounds, and Holly stuffs her coloured pencils back into her case. She hesitates. “Can I keep it here?” She flushes. “Mum might be a bit sad if she sees it.”
My throat lumps, and I swallow hard. “‘Course. Off you go.”
When the door slams shut behind her, and with the prickle of Trent’s watchful gaze on my nape, I move into the practice room and peer out the curtain.
On street below, I see the passenger door open, along with the flash of Holly’s mum’s manicured fingernails. And Holly leaps inside.
“What are you doing?” Trent’s voice, his whole presence, has snuck up on me. I hadn’t noticed over the long-standing prickle I always have around him. The car below peels away. “Just making sure she gets in the car safely.”
I open the curtain and stare at the sea across the road, glittering in the late afternoon light, little peaks of white on the surface from strong winds we can’t feel behind glass. “Are you okay?” I dare to ask.
