“Okay,” I acknowledge. “Since Becca has heard this, andwe will discuss it more later, you will pay her back $37,500, and you will not owe me anymore with the house repayment.”
We all sit there, taking a moment to let that settle. Dad leans back in his chair, looking between the three of us like he’s just watched a negotiation he didn’t expect to go this way.
“Well,” he says dryly, “that was … surprisingly functional.”
Holly huffs out a laugh, Becca doesn’t, and I’m somewhere in between.
“Before we adjourn,” he continues, tapping the edge of the paperwork, “I want to be very clear on one thing.” His eyes land on Holly. “This plan works—on paper. But plans don’t fail because of math. They fail because people get emotional, cut corners, or revert to old habits.”
Holly straightens. “I won’t.”
He holds her gaze a beat longer. “Good. Because you don’t have the margin for it.”
Then his attention shifts—sharp, direct—to me. “And you,” he says, “call your mother.”
I blink. “I—what?”
“You heard me.” He’s already gathering the papers. “She’s upset, says you won’t answer her calls.”
My jaw tightens. “Yeah, sure,” I mutter, trying to get out of this conversation. I’ll deal with her when I’m ready, when she has shown some effort to change, and not a moment sooner.
“Mm,” he hums like he knows that’s bullshit but doesn’t push it.
Holly clears her throat, pulling us back. “There’s one more thing.”
We all look at her.
“Mandy.”
Becca’s posture shifts subtly. I reach down and squeeze her knee, reassuring her, removing my hand before she can protest.
“I’m not keeping her on as any type of partner,” Holly says quickly. “That’s not happening.”
I nod in approval as Becca leans back, crossing her legs, looking like she may want some popcorn for this.
“But,” Holly continues, “she does have experience running front-of-house operations. Scheduling, client management, and vendor coordination. If she wants it, I’ll offer her a position as an employee, but only that.”
I hesitate for half a second. “You sure about that?”
Holly looks at me, steady. “I’ll talk to her. Set expectations. It’s my call now.”
I nod once. “Yeah, it is. Alright, if you’re sure.”
Becca’s eyes flick to me, then back to Holly.
“No ownership, no decision-making authority,” Holly adds. “And definitely no access to company cards.”
Dad nods once. “Appropriate.”
“That’s … fair,” Becca says carefully.
We stand, chairs scraping softly against the floor. No one rushes for the door. It’s like we’re all aware that something has shifted in our family. And none of us is quite sure what to do with it yet.
Holly gathers her folder, looking lighter than she has in weeks. “Okay,” she says, forcing a small smile. “Well. That was … a lot.”
“No kidding,” I mutter.
Becca exhales beside me. “Yeah. That was heavy.”
