Mom shrugs. “She should have sold this after Pop died. She refused to, and then refused help. The house was falling apart, and I wasn’t going to keep dragging Scottlyn back and forth to a house like that.”
My stomach twists.
Nan’s jaw hardens. “Lies.”
“Nan,” Tucker warns again, with more growl to his voice as if trying to force her to but out. But I hold a hand out in front of him, needing to hear what she’s about to say.
Nan steps forward, pointing a finger in my mom’s chest. “You’rethe reason Scottie never came back here. It’s not because of the house falling apart. It’s because you couldn’t stand how free Millie lived her life.” I hold my breath and Nan doesn’t hold back. She pokes her again. “Younever failed to judge her for the way she acted around Scottie. Allowing her to be a kid and playin’ in the dirt. How she would run around the fields laughing and dancing. You hated it.”
My mom’s eyes flash with the truth being laid out in front of me.
I step forward. “Is that true?”
“No.”
Nan lets out a humorless laugh. “You forget Millie was my best friend. We never left each other’s side. I was there the day you gave her an ultimatum over the phone. You said sell the house, move closer, or you’d stop bringing Scottie to see her.”
Silence fills the air.
I don’t move. Tucker doesn’t move, and neither does my dad.
My mom grinds her teeth together, looking beyond us at the house. “I was protecting her.”
“From my mother?” my dad cuts in, and we all snap our heads to face him. “Scottie didn’t need protection frommy mother.”
“I wanted what’s best for her!” my mom shouts.
My dad steps closer to her. “I love you, but I also love our daughter. So, please, listen to me for once. You have to stop with this need to push Scottie into something she doesn’t want—something she doesn’t believe in. You’ve been doing it for so long that it’s time to let go of it.”
“Billy,” she says, gasping like she didn’t expect that.
“The entire drive here, you’ve been talking about how my mom should have never left her this house.” My eyes widen and I wait in bated breath for his next words. “She left Scottie this house because she knew exactly what she was doing. She believed in her more than either of us ever did. Even if she was too young when she died, she still believed that Scottie would carry the legacy of this place and make it a home.”
I’m shocked by his words. My lips part as I listen to every word, afraid if I move or even blink, he might stop. He’s never really defended me like this with Mom. But this isn’t him being careful anymore. This is him choosing me—standing in front of her like a wall saying I was worth believing in all along.
“Millie didn’t just leave her this house,” Dad continues. “She left her a chance.”
Tears sting my eyes at the same time Tucker places a hand on my lower back again.
“This house wasn’t just something to do for the show,” I cut in, voice cracking. “I learned somewhere along the way that it means more to me than proving that this isn’t just a hobby for me. This is real for me, Mom.” I face her again, heart hammering in my chest. “I’m sorry if it’s not what you wanted—this show, the house, this town, all of it. But it’s turned into everything I didn’t know I needed. I’ve renovatedmydream home.And, in the process, found people who love and care about me.”
My dad steps up first with glassy eyes. I feel Tucker back away from me a moment before my dad wraps his arms around me for a tight embrace. “I’m so proud of you,” he whispers in my ear.
“Thank you, Dad,” I choke out, hugging him back tightly. When he releases me, I look to my mom, who has her eyes fixed on the grass at her feet. I walk over, placing a hand on her shoulder. “I can’t live for your approval anymore. I don’t want to perform perfection either. I’m choosing the messy. Even if it’s loud and chaotic. Even if you don’t like it. Even if it’s never going to be enough for you.”
For a moment, no one moves.
“I’m sorry, Scottie,” my mom says, lifting her eyes to meet mine. I don’t miss the way she called me Scottie instead of Scottlyn. “I guess I just always thought…if I pushed you hard enough, you’d never have to struggle.”
“I did struggle. Just not in the way you think.”
She exhales loudly like she wants to argue. Like she wants to fix it or reshape the conversation into something she understands.
But she doesn’t.
And I can’t help but offer her a soft smile because that might be the bravest thing she’s ever done. Without another word, she turns around and walks back to her car parked on the street.
My dad offers me an apologetic smile and follows her.
