The Holders - By Julianna Scott Page 0,10

next month.”

“All right, well stay on it this time.”

“Mmhmm,” I said, pretending to concentrate on breaking my Magic Shell.

“There is one more thing we need to discuss, you know.”

I felt my stomach muscles clench as I realized where this conversation was headed. “Oh?” I said, taking a bite of ice cream, playing it cool.

“First of all, you were completely out of line today.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” I wasn’t, but I really didn’t feel like fighting about it.

“Secondly, you have to realize that going over there means that you will most likely run into your father.” I tensed at the word, but said nothing, as my mother was the only person I allowed to use that term in reference to him. “And I want you to promise me you will behave yourself.”

“What fun is that?” I mumbled over a mouthful of ice cream, deciding it was better not to inform her of the deal I’d made with Alex and my intentions to avoid him entirely.

“Becca, you really have to stop that. Just give him a chance. This could be an opportunity to get to know him.”

“Please tell me that’s not why you are OK with all this. Because you think we’ll ‘bond with Daddy’, and all will be right with the world.”

“No, of course not,” she sighed. “I’m OK with it because…” She paused, shaking her head. “I have to do something. We can’t pretend his problem is going to magically fix itself, and this is the first option that actually seems like it may truly be good for him. At least they don’t sound like they want to lock him away. It may not work, but at least we have to try.” She looked down into her bowl before continuing. “And yes, like it or not, your father does have a lot to do with it. I just want you to keep an open mind that’s all, for Ryland’s sake if for nothing else. He will be meeting his father for the first time, and I don’t want you painting him as a horrible monster.”

“When have I ever done that?” I asked, more than a little offended. If there was one thing I was proud of in terms of my feelings toward Jocelyn, it was the fact that Ryland had no idea what they were. For all he knew, I was as excited as he was to be meeting our long lost Poppa.

“You haven’t, I know, but this will be different. You have never had to keep yourself in check with Jocelyn in the same room, and you know how you can get.”

I snorted a laugh, almost choking on my ice cream. “No throwing punches, got it.”

“I’m serious, Becca.”

“OK, fine, and what am I supposed to tell Ry, when his Super Dad illusions come crashing down all over the place?”

“Maybe they won’t.” I noticed she couldn’t actually meet my eyes as she said it.

“Of course they will! God, what is with you two! This man is not perfect! He’s not someone you should constantly be defending, and he’s certainly not someone Ryland should be looking up to!”

As soon as I’d finished, I saw my Mom’s face sink and immediately regretted my rant. She didn’t need this from me, not tonight.

“Anyway,” Mom said after a moment, taking advantage of my deliberate silence, “I just want you to think before you speak, OK? That’s not too much to ask, is it?”

“No,” I mumbled not looking at her, last spoonful of ice cream still in my mouth.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” She put her hand up to her ear dramatically.

“No.”

“Thank you. Now, I think it’s time for bed. We can talk more in the morning, but I think we could all use some sleep.”

“Night, Mom.” I stood and started shuffling around the table towards the stairs.

“Good night, baby,” she said, grabbing the back of my head as I passed, kissing my forehead.

I went upstairs, brushed my teeth, changed into my sleep-shirt and shorts, and fell over onto my bed, staring up at the ceiling.

Ireland. I was going to Ireland. Had the situation been different, I would have been totally excited, but as it was, I wasn’t sure how I felt.

First off there was Ryland, who might finally be getting the help he needed, but who also might actually be, well, a freak. Yeah, people had been calling him that for years, but I never considered it could be true. I was also suddenly – and stupidly – afraid to think things around him,

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