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love you like a daughter, Lolly. Your mother was my best friend. But Rory is my only child, and I would move heaven and earth to keep him safe and give him all he deserves. I’m sure Rory would be furious if he knew I was talking to you about this. It’s your choice if you tell him about our conversation or not. The thought of you together always made me so happy.”
Lolly has 3 mother figures in her life and none of them taught her shit except how to make pies. Aunt Gert gives her magic candy and a mean scowl - apparently never gave her much growing up. Nancy has known her since she was 12yrs, was her son's gf and acts like she a stranger. Where was Nancy after Lolly's mom died?
But if I was honest, I suspected she was right. He was planning to give it all up for me. I couldn’t let him do that. I could see it now, playing out so clearly. He would give it up for the love of me—his dreams, this golden opportunity, the life he’d been planning since he was twelve years old. He’d do it because the alternative was unthinkable. He was loving and loyal. He’d never choose his own interests over me.
And for a minute I hesitated. The temptation was almost unbearable, to leave it all, to walk away. No more trying to mother a teenager who didn’t want me meddling in her life, no more accounts and inventory and ever-diminishing profit margins, no more coming home smelling like Danish meat loaf and red cabbage. No more rising early every morning to make those endless lemon meringue pies. I could just walk away. I could be free.
I thought your goal was to own/run a restaurant since middle school...and you did it so you didn't realize you were living your list? did she ever graduate college and what the fuk did she learn? Not how to run a restuarant or food service that's for sure
If I left, what would become of the diner, my father and my sister, and my family’s legacy? How would my father cope? The diner was what got him up in the morning. It was his way of carrying on without Mom, of holding us all together. I think it was what held him together too. He would be flattened if I left, and we couldn’t afford to hire someone to do all that I did anyway. The diner was our livelihood too. Without it I didn’t know how we would survive financially. And besides, leaving Dad and Daphne to fend for themselves was unthinkable. Daphne hated me trying to mother her, but she needed
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You mean the dad that was in the Navy, raised 2 kids couldn't fend for himself? We are told dad doesn't talk to his kids nor realize anything going on in his eldest daughters life? When is dad in grief everyday for 10 years? Is he drinking?Abusive? Depressed and never showing up to work in the restaurant that never closes except Monday? Shitty & unrealistic Lolly written by the author
We’d always put the Eatery first, the whole family. It was our highest priority. The sense of responsibility had come down from my grandparents, who had put their whole hopes and dreams into making it a success. My parents had taken up that mantle when they took over. It was the life we knew, it was legacy, and we were raised to put the Eatery before anything else. Our family’s success was its success. It was an unspoken but ever-present belief. But now I wondered why we clung so hard to this place. Was it really the best way to spend our lives?
A ladies’ book club reserved that booth for dinner once a month to eat dessert and discuss the latest celebrity memoir, which, to the best of my knowledge, none of them actually ever read.
AND this piece of shit book is included. I wish I hadn't read this but I'm just here to rip it to shreds. [Page 248, chapter 36]
In its over sixty years of operation, the Eatery had been closed unexpectedly only three times. Once when Magnolia sustained an unheard-of amount of rain in October of 1977 and the entirety of McGraw Street flooded, and once when the power went out completely for three days in 1988. And the third time on the day of Mom’s funeral. That was it.
I gaped at her, trying to absorb her words. “I’m trying to keep our family together,” I ground out through gritted teeth. “I’m trying to keep everything together.”
nobody asked you Lolly - as everyone has by now pointed out to you. Even your subconscious delusions brought on by the LSD candy - you know already
Will Always Love You.” The song that always reminded me of Rory, of the first day I’d laid eyes on him, of the star-crossed arc of our young love. The jukebox clicked and whirred to life, and a moment later Dolly Parton’s signature warble
cheese and crackers...RORY again. Also, all the other song references were from the 80s - why not Whitney Houston's version of the same damn song?
I had a sudden flash of memory: my mother’s hand in her floral gardening glove plucking a tuberous begonia blossom and popping it in her mouth before offering me one. I was four or five years old. It tasted crunchy and sour, a little like a lemon Sour Patch Kid. I liked the flavor and sneaked a begonia flower every time I was in the garden for the rest of the summer. I smiled at the memory. I’d loved those times in the garden with my mom. They were my favorite few hours of the week. Monday, our day off, I would get my little hands dirty alongside my mom, listening to her share tidbits about
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when the fuk did mom have time to tend a garden??? that beotch did it all and you learned nothing Lolly
My business idea had blossomed in the two months since I’d first decided to make Lolly’s Pops a reality. I’d purchased an old ice cream truck from a woman in Portland and repurposed it for popsicles. I’d had the truck repainted, white and mint green, a nod to the Eatery,
damn, you grew plants, found, reburb a commercial vehicle for food, got a food handlers permit and commercial vehicle license and started a business in 2 months...got it approve by the state all within 2 months...that LSD was gold
“I have no desire to see his perfect family and perfect wife and perfect life, especially when I feel like I’m just getting back on my feet again. It would be excruciating and completely unhelpful. I’m doing my best to follow my bliss now, and Rory Shaw needs to stay where he belongs. In the past.”
PPPaaaalllleeeeaaasssse...you've been simping over this boy / man for over 20yrs and now suddenly you go cold turkey on him.
At thirteen, when I’d penned them, those goals had been fresh and full of possibility. Now, at thirty-three, with my head stuck in a freezer, surrounded by the pretty frozen fruits of my labors, I realized I was done with lists. No more striving and feeling like a failure.