"But-"

"Go back inside," I snap at her, hating the rise in tone of my voice. She needs to fucking listen.

"That kind of tone is never going to get her to spread her legs, son." Uncle Chuck has his arms crossed, smugness in his stance. Bastard.

Not for long. I charge after him, fisting his shirt and bringing his face close to mine. Daisy squeals from my abrupt actions.

"Go ahead, say one more disgusting and derogatory word about her. I dare you, you piece of shit. I would love more than anything to smash your skull against this concrete."

"Carter, don't hurt him," Daisy cries out.

"I told you to go back inside."

"Better do as he says," Uncle Chuck says, his eyes never leaving mine. "I'm sure he doesn't want me airing his dirty laundry in front of you."

"Maybe we can all just be friends and talk about our differences," Daisy offers, shifting in place nervously to the side.

"Yeah, Carter, let's all be friends and talk. Maybe your little friend wants to talk about Sasha, your girlfriend."

"What?" Daisy asks on a gasp.

"You motherfucker." Not even thinking about the consequences, I shove my uncle backward, sending him a few feet into some bushes, holding out on the violent actions I really want to take. Leaving him behind, I press my hand on Daisy's back and guide her back inside of the church hall.

"You have a girlfriend?" she asks once we are inside.

"No." I don't even bother going into everything. There is no need. It's not true. I didn't have a girlfriend the minute Sasha took off.

"Then what is he talking about?" She stumbles as we walk down the hallway. I catch her with my hands wrapped around her waist before she falls forward, face first.

"Careful," I reprimand.

Spinning around, she pokes her chest. "Don't talk to me like that. Like I'm some juvenile. I may be inexperienced but I'm still a grown-up, I don't need you treating me like a child."

"I'm not treating you like a child."

"You are. You're trying to shield me. I could have handled that man."

Frustrated with everything, I run my hand over my face. I know Daisy could have handled my uncle. There is no doubt in my mind that she could have at least killed him with kindness; that's the kind of woman she is. That wasn't the issue.

"I wasn't shielding you from him, Daisy. I know you can handle yourself. I was shielding you from anything he might say about me. You're already out of my league with your pure heart. I didn't need him saying anything that might taint your view of me. And that's exactly what happened."

"Maybe you should trust me rather than assuming the worst of me, Carter. I can and already have formed my own opinion of you, and I don't need that man's help. And right about now, my opinion of you is quite low, not because of what he said, but because of the way you don't trust me." She goes to leave but then turns around, determination in her eyes. "Weren't you the one who said 'own you'? Maybe try living by your own words, Carter, you might be surprised what you find."

Without another word, she heads off to the church hall to join the rest of the group, leaving me to chew on my own damn words.

Own you.

Yeah, fuck that. What is there to own? I'm a pathetic mess of a man with no future in sight. Who the hell would want to own that?

Dear Life, Learn something new. That was the task this past session. At first, I thought maybe I let the program down, never really fixating on something to learn, something real. That was until I sat down in class today and listened to Marleen's story.

Learn something new.

I didn't learn a concrete task, something tangible that I could hold in my hand like how to throw pottery, or how to make the perfect chocolate souffle. This was something internal, some serious soul-searching stuff.

I learned something new about myself. There is a strength within me I didn't know existed. I took a step forward. It was the first time in the past year and a half I blacked out my past and lived in the present. I had no idea I could even do such a thing, to look past my demons, the heaviness of loss weighing over me, and enjoy the moment.

And I did.

The only problem? I feel guilty as hell, even though it felt so good. And I have no idea what my next step is.

Sincerely, Hollyn Dear Life, One step forward, two steps back.

I finally felt courageous and asked for something I wanted. I was so nervous and so unsure. He makes me feel that, and I don't think that is how one should feel in a relationship.

What is the definition of a relationship and what is the definition of what Carter and I share? Because frankly, I'm so confused. It was never this hard for ladies like Marilyn Monroe and Rosemary Clooney. They were able to easily fall in love, yes they had their blips in the road, but their relationships were well defined. How come mine isn't?

Is Carter still hung up on this ex-girlfriend? Does he really want to use me for a physical connection and that's it?

This whole program was supposed to be about changing me, about living, so why do I feel so stuck again? I'm checking off the boxes, I'm moving forward, but instead of a leisurely drive, I'm riding one heck of a roller coaster.

Maybe this is what life is. One giant, nauseating, and confusing roller coaster. Funny, coming from the girl who was born and raised on a merry-go-round.

Kind regards, Daisy Dear Life, Have you ever wrestled so much with your emotions that you feel almost paralyzed?

That's where I am. Paralyzed.

Hollyn, hell, being with her was one of the most raw and carnal things I've ever experienced. As if we were meant to heal each other. I woke up that next morning feeling so damn alive that the plague of Hope's future didn't touch me immediately.

But that didn't last long, not when my lawyer called, informing me that Rebecca might actually have a valid case, and we might have to go to court. How is that even possible? That's what I want to know. How on earth can someone change their mind about a baby? She signed the papers, and that should be binding. This isn't elementary school where we can fight over "take-backsies."

This is a real human life.

The only thing I have going for me right now, the knowledge that Rebecca's living arrangements, employment, and mental state don't make her suitable enough to care for Hope.

I just can't comprehend her thinking in this entire mess. I don't think I ever will.

Jace Dear Life, Own you, yeah, fuck you.

Carter

Step Six: Face Your Fears

HOLLYN.

"Pass the Cheez Whiz, you've been hogging it this entire time," I say, reaching for the slowly diminishing can of processed goodness.

"Don't even think about it." My hand is slapped away by Grams, Daisy's grandma. "I'm old and wrinkly, therefore I get to bogart the Cheez Whiz."

I slouch down in the corner seat of the couch. "But I was the one who brought it."

Grams pats my leg and sprays a pile into her mouth. "And I already said thank you, dearie. Hasn't anyone ever told you gloating doesn't look good on you?"

Shocked, I look to Daisy for help but she just shrugs her shoulders apologetically. "She likes the Whiz."

"You have to let the elderly get what they want," Amanda says, licking a Tootsie Pop. Like, actually licking.

"Don't you know if you suck on the lollipop, you will get to the center faster?" I suggest, my tongue feeling her tongue's pain with every scrape of her taste bud against the hard-coated candy.

"Sometimes it's not about instant gratification, but the road you take to get there," Amanda says, licking again with a purpose.

"I would rather have instant gratification. I'm a sucker." I wink.

Amanda smirks. "As long as you don't swallow, then we're good."

"Huh?" Daisy asks, looking between us at our interaction.

Grams sprays cheese in her mouth and says, "They're talking about sexual favors, dearie. It's something we didn't go over while we were living together. Would you like to talk about it now?"

All three of us shout "No" at the same time. I like Grams, I think she's a pretty cool lady, but by no means do I want to sit around Amanda's couch and discuss sexual favors with her.

"All right." Grams shrugs. "But I'm here if you want to talk about pleasure without repercussions."

"Grams!" Daisy's face is bright red and for the first time all night and since I saw her at the meeting last night, she doesn't have a worried wrinkle in her brow.

"Oh dearie, it's good to educate yourself, especially with that beau of yours, Carter."

"He's not my beau," Daisy corrects her quickly. "He's just a . . ." she searches for the right word, "he's a guy I know."

Huh, not even a friend, I wonder what happened last night.

"What do you mean a guy you know?" Grams asks. "You have been fawning over this man for weeks. What's going on?"

Sighing, Daisy sinks into the couch, her cloud pajama pants riding up her ankles. "I don't think he sees me as a woman, but rather just a nave girl. I'm trying to get away from that girl. I want to be the woman I saw in the mirror when I tried on my bridesmaid dress."

"Then be her," Amanda says with conviction. "Don't let anyone dictate who you're supposed to be. You and you alone can make that decision."

"She's right," Grams chimes in. "Don't get so dependent on a man that you lose who you want to be. That's what I did with your grandfather. And I loved that old coot, but it wasn't until after he passed that I found who I really was, a closet smoker with a pension to solve every crossword that came my way."

"You smoke?" Daisy asks, shocked.

"Closet smoker, dearie. Closet smoker."

"That's still smoking."

"Yes, but I won't necessarily die from the black lung."

"Something to look forward to." Daisy rolls her eyes. "I just don't get it. Will I always be some innocent to him?"

"Maybe that's what he likes about you," Amanda suggests.

"Well, I don't like it about me." Scanning the room, she sits up, knocking over the bowl of chips next to her. "Amanda, this can't possibly be what you want for a bachelorette party. Matt is in New Orleans having a great time, and you're having a slumber party, with an eighty-year-old woman."

"Hey," Grams protests.

"Sorry, Grams, but this is pathetic. We should be out drinking, throwing caution to the wind, making poor decisions that will result in great stories later on instead of sulking around a table of junk food with an elderly woman teasing us about pleasure without repercussions."

I couldn't agree more. This "bachelorette party" is pathetic. When Amanda came to me about it, I held my tongue for many reasons. One, it's a sad ladies party and no one wants to know about their sad ladies party. Two, wedding stuff has been very difficult for me, so I didn't want to go too much into detail. It's still too raw. Three, it's what she wanted and who was I to tell her differently? Apparently Daisy has no problem in doing that.

Wincing, I add, "She's right, Amanda. The night is still young, why don't we go out? I can see if there is one of those bike bars available you've always wanted to try. They might take last-minute reservations."

"A bike bar sounds fun," Amanda says, perking up. "Grams, will you be able to pedal and drink?"

Grams waves her hand in front of her face. "Oh no, I'm practically sleeping with my eyes open right now. You girls go have fun. I'm going to help myself up to Daisy's room to sleep."

"You can be our bail money if we get in trouble," I add.

"Deal." Grams squirts the bottle of cheese again, but nothing comes out, so she tosses it behind her and gets up slowly from the couch. "Have fun. Daisy, I hog the bed so it's best you sleep on the couch. Plus, I get the toots at night."

Grams takes off for the stairs, cane in hand, while we all giggle at each other.

I look at my watch and say, "All right, let's take half an hour to get ready. I'm going to need some clothes so get out some of your sluttiest outfits for me."

Daisy and Amanda run upstairs and I'm left cleaning up our junk food. As I'm sealing up untouched Pop-Tarts, my phone rings.

Jace.

I need to answer. I haven't talked to him much since my trip to Arizona, for obvious reasons. I don't know what to say and I sure as hell don't know what I want. But my neglect is starting to become obvious so I answer.

"Hey."

"Ah, you answered finally. I was starting to think you were avoiding me."

Nothing blows by him. "Never. Just been busy, you know."

"I don't actually, since you haven't talked to me lately."

Yeah, I deserve that one. Avoidance after sex is never the best thing. It can help someone develop a complex, not that Jace has to worry. Nope, he's pretty much perfect when it comes to sex. I mean, mind-blowing.