Holt's Holding (Part One) - By A Dagmara Page 0,50

came around the sharp turn by the little falls and my brakes felt odd…No worries they worked, but normally they were so much more sensitive.

It had to be these heels getting in the way.

Moments later, I made a left and another immediate left into the church parking lot.

Parking, I stepped from the car and like the others already walking, I stepped into the church locating my Nana. Her white hair pulled up in a high ponytail, she reminded me so much of my father. She resonated so much class. She was about 5’8 and slender. She looked nothing like most grandmothers; she was the essence of elegance in my opinion. I loved her and her no hold bars attitude. She was the picture perfect reflection of what old money was, class and pure elegance.

I knelt down and made the sign of the cross before sliding into the bench. I kissed her on the cheek.

“Hi Nana.” I whispered still smiling.

“Lilly, you look beautiful as always.” She offered a sincere kiss to my cheek.

I smiled to her waiting for her next comment. I knew what was coming.

“Does your shirt not button up higher?” She raised a brow looking to me.

“Nana…please…my breast are covered. Mrs. Peterson has more cleavage hanging out.” I gestured over to the older woman sitting in front of us.

Mrs. Peterson turned and nodded to Nana then to me. I really didn’t give a shit if she heard my comment about her shirt.

“Good morning Elizabeth.” She smiled to me. “So when will you let me introduce you to my grandson?” Her very pressured looked bore in to me and annoyed me. She was a persistent one.

“Good Morning Mrs. Peterson.” I tried to avoid her constant invitation to set me up.

“Are you dating anyone?” she asked urgently. Geez, this woman just didn’t give it up.

“No Mrs. Peterson. I don’t have the time to date.” I did my best to hide my annoyance.

“I suppose not. A young woman such as you shouldn’t be doing a man’s work. Your nana tells me you’ve really brought your father’s company back from ruins.” Her voice was laced in distain. Clearly, this woman was caught in the middle ages, when a woman had no value beyond being a wife.

“Nana talks too much. The company was never in ruins Mrs. Peterson. Moreover, I don’t run things. I’ve simply helped guide it into the present.” Looking at her, this woman perhaps knew too much or suspected the truth.

“Lilly is doing a fine job Patricia…and I think it honorable of her to step into Henry’s shoes. She is very much like her father.”

Mrs. Peterson raised an eyebrow and smiled “I suppose you are right.” I wanted to scream that this was the twenty first century at her.

“Elizabeth…does everyone call you by your middle name these days? I prefer your first name.” of course you would.

I pulled my lips tight, “Yes most do call me by my middle and I do prefer it.” Why the hell do I find myself explaining myself every Sunday to this old witch?

Nana jumped in, “Ally always called her by her middle name Patricia it was easier for her to pronounce and her preference is to be called by her middle is her choice and not what others should concern themselves with.” Nana looked to me and winked, reminding me of my father.

“Well, you entire name is beautiful Elizabeth.” She covered well.

“Thank you Mrs. Peterson.” I wanted to fucking blow her off, but knew better. I knew Nana wouldn’t approve of such rash and inappropriate behavior.

She turned back to the front, and I shook my head.

Father Joe made his way down to the altar and we began our normal rituals of prayer, homely and such. Finally, he gave his sermon. Today’s topic was forgiveness.

Forgiveness, such an easy concept, but so hard to actually absorb. Forgiveness was a concept I had not embraced. I was filled with too much contempt. Yet the thought of Charlie had me pondering. Could he? Would he? Shaking this ridiculous notion off, there was no way to walk down this road. The moment he knew the truth, contempt would be the only thing he would see when he looked at me. I had so much baggage, that not even I could overlook it. Sighing, I listened to the rest of the sermon.

Mass crawled by as someone was trying to force me to absorb every word spoken.

Finally, over, Nana and me walked out from the church to be greeted by Father Joe.

“Elizabeth…oh,