THE BEAUTY OF BECOMING | ROGER TAYLOR

twenty

twenty !
-

One month later and everything is back to normal between Hollis and Roger.

The same old jokes, the same routine cigarette stealing, and the same die-hard habits.

But it's also only one month until Hollis leaves for her Paris trip. She's still undecided as to whether it will be entirely beneficial to her or if she's better of staying at home, but she's already promised Mrs. Foster she'll go. 

It doesn't matter now. She's got a whole month to decide. For now, her attention is required elsewhere. 

More specifically, it's needed for the afternoon tea she's having with her grandmother and her boyfriend, who has been kept mostly private until today after Diana claimed she wanted to be sure that he was a good man before she brought him home to meet her darling granddaughter. 

Hollis wonders whether it's because she had to make sure he wouldn't be 'put off' by her unruly granddaughter.

Never mind. Harold is a nice man, though he didn't seem to appreciate when Hollis immediately began calling him Harry, and a bit of a green thumb, like her grandmother. 

It turns out that's actually how they met. There had been a meeting about potential community vegetable plots they'd both attended. The two of them had both argued in favour and become what they are now in a matter of months. 

"So, your grandmother tells me you're quite the artist," Harry says, showing a polite interest. 

"Yes," She replies, her rings clicking against the china as she lowers the tea cup. "I suppose I am."

"There's no 'supposing' about it, dear. You're really making your way in that business. Say, if only your father could see you now. He'd be so proud of you," Diana tells her earnestly, a glint in her eye. 

Swiftly, she moves the conversation on after her granddaughter simply stares right at her after mentioning her father, talking of the garden she keeps. 

But Hollis just sits there, tuned out of the conversation, and realises that, yes, her dad would be quite proud of her for her beginnings of success as a budding artist. Perhaps he would not be so proud of her other life choices, but for her art he would hug her tight like he always did and spin her around the room as if they were ballroom dancers gone mad until either her mum or grandma told them to stop before they knock over the vase. 

She turns her eyes down into her steaming tea. There isn't a day that goes by where she doesn't miss him. She lifts the tea and takes a long drink, collecting her thoughts, and is rather thankful for an excuse to leave the watchful eye of her grandma when the doorbell goes.

"I'll get it!" She announced and hurriedly gets out of her seat before Diana can protest. 

Hollis strides down the corridor, bare feet chilled by the hardwood, and swings the door open. A grin settles on her mouth at the sight of Roger, who smirks right back at her.