Always Have Paris

Chapter 7 • Holland

"With frozen feet I'll move
The winter brings a new"

Holland // Novo Amor

***

"There you are; thirty-seven Hatfield Court," Abby says, slowly pulling the car into the driveway. She parks behind Mum's car and I suddenly feel imaginary butterflies in my stomach. "You can do this, Abigail. Don't let Gemma get to you. Just be nice."

Smiling to myself at her little peptalk, I watch her turn off the engine and unbuckle her seatbelt. Since Abby didn't put her music on and we couldn't talk, the three-hour drive to my mum's house was quiet and I have to admit that I'm glad to finally be home.

Abby reaches behind to grab her backpack and because of the short notice, she only had time to pack a few clothes and the toiletries that she kept at my flat for those nights she'd stay over.

Knowing that my best friend has put her life on hold at a moment's notice for me makes me feel terrible, but I'd do the same for her in a heartbeat.

Too bad my heart isn't beating though.

Stop with the jokes already, Harry.

The squeak of the car door opening brings me out of my thoughts and I get out of the car, smiling at the sight of my childhood home. I haven't been home since the holidays and even without the colorful lights framing the house and tree displayed in the front window, it still looks lovely.

The crunching sound of the gravel driveway captures my attention and I follow Abby up to the porch. Slowing her gait, she pulls the hair tie from her messy bun and rakes her hand through her hair before tying it back up.

There's nothing to be nervous about, love. I'm sure Mum had a talk with Gemma and she'll apologize for how she talked to you yesterday. If she didn't, then I will talk to her.

Wait. I can't. Dammit, this is infuriating.

With four timid knocks on the door, Abby shifts her weight in her converse shoes that are practically falling apart and she blows out a breath. I watch her fingers nervously fiddle with the cuffs of her jumper before wiping her palms on her skinny jeans.

It's okay, Abby. I'm right here with you.

The sound of hurried footsteps coming closer earns our attention and the door opens.

"Welcome, love. Come in, come in."

"Thank you, Anne."

I gesture my hand for Abby to walk in first and I quickly follow behind before Mum shuts the door. In this unexplainable realm that I'm now in, I don't know how I still have my sense of smell, but I'm grateful because it smells like home.

The warm aroma of cinnamon lets me know Mum is still enjoying the candles I got her this past holiday and it hits me that those are the last things I will ever buy for her.

This is maddening.

"Make yourself at home. As many times as you've stayed over with Harry, it's practically your second home," Mum smiles fondly and we walk into the living room. "How was the drive?"

"Long," Abby sighs.

"Would you like some tea?"

"That would be lovely, but I need to use the loo first. A large cola and a three-hour drive don't mix."

"Good heavens, you didn't stop on your way here?" Mum gasps and Abby shakes her head. "Yes, please, by all means, and while you're occupied with that, I'll put the kettle on."