by Devney Perry
“It came?”
“It did.” She crossed the room and extended the letter. “Here.”
“Go ahead.”
“No, it’s okay.”
I took the envelope from her hand. “I thought you wanted to read them.”
“I did. I don’t need to anymore.”
“Why?”
She gave me a sad smile. “Because you finally told me how you felt.”
If nothing else, that had made writing these letters worth it.
I tore into the envelope, pulling out the single sheet of paper. A sharp sting hit my chest as I remembered how I’d felt that day. Six years later and it was still hard to believe we’d quit each other.
“Here.” I held out the letter, but Molly shied away. “It’s raw. But . . . it’s real.”
“Okay.” She took it and read it over. “Wow.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I feel the same way. We gave up on each other.”
“How?” I asked. “How did that happen?”
“I don’t know. The days got so hard. We stopped fighting for each other and fought for ourselves instead. In the end, I think it—us—got to be too much and we gave up. I’m sorry.”
I hated hearing those words from her mouth. It seemed like she’d said them so damn much. “Can you do something for me?”
“Sure.”
“Don’t apologize to me anymore.”
“Huh?”
I took the letter and crumpled it into a tight ball. “This letter is bullshit. Well, half of it. You didn’t quit me. I quit you. I haven’t said this enough, but I’m sorry. I’m so damn sorry, Molly.”
She stared at me for a few seconds, then she closed her eyes. “I think we’ve apologized plenty. Maybe we could both stop.”
“Not quite yet.” I stepped closer and took both her hands in mine. “I’m sorry. For pushing you away after Jamie died. For putting Alcott above our marriage and using work as an excuse to hide from my feelings. For being such a fucking asshole to you after we got divorced. For all these letters. You didn’t deserve how I treated you.”
Molly rocked back on her heels, the shock of hearing my statement written all over her face.
Which meant this apology wasn’t just necessary, it was long overdue.
I’d blamed her for our divorce. I’d given her the cold shoulder for months in the hopes of making her pay for how hurt I’d been. I’d been in so much pain it had physically hurt me to look at her.
“It wasn’t fair for me to put it all on you,” I told her.
Tears welled in her eyes. “You had a good reason.”
“No, I didn’t.” I framed her face with my hands. “I’m sorry.”
A tear fell. “Thank you for saying that.”
The distance between us was only inches but I pulled her into my chest and wrapped her up tight. I breathed in the rosemary and mint scent of her hair as she wrapped her arms behind my back.
Our embrace didn’t last long. Much too soon, Molly pushed me away. “That’s the last letter, right?”
I nodded. “That’s it.”
“Phew.” She smiled, blinking her eyes dry. “I’m glad. I can’t take all this crying. I’m getting dehydrated.”
I chuckled. “You think we’ll ever figure out who was sending them?”
“Since we’ve interrogated every person we know, I’m thinking it’s a mystery for the ages.”
“We didn’t ask the kids.”
Molly blew out a long breath. “I don’t think it’s them.”
“Kali asked me earlier if we were ever going to get together again. It could have been her.”
“I don’t think so.” Molly shook her head. “You know your daughter, Finn. She shows everything she feels. Some of those letters were devastating to read. I don’t think she would have been able to read them and hide it from us.”
“Yeah,” I muttered. “You’re probably right. Okay . . . a mystery for the ages.”
“I’m actually glad I don’t know who.”
“You are?”
“I don’t want to know someone else’s motives for doing this to us. I’m just glad they did. We left too much unsaid. Now it’s all out there. Now we can finally breathe.”
I went to the couch and picked up my backpack, slinging it over my shoulder. “I agree.”
“I’ll walk you out.” She went for my suitcase, rolling it down the hallway behind me. “Take care of yourself.”
“I will. Same to you.” I bent to kiss her at the front door, going for her lips, but she turned her head so I got her cheek instead. I lingered there for a moment too long. It never did feel right kissing her on the cheek, not when I knew how good it felt to have her lips instead.
“I’ll bring the kids over tomorrow,” she said, taking a step away.
“Great. See ya.”
And that was it. Back to two homes. Two schedules. Two separate lives.
I took the suitcase from her hand and left. The ramp the Alcott guys had built for my chair had been removed this past week. Without another good-bye, I walked down the stairs to my truck. I’d driven it over the day my boot had been removed.
“Finn,” Molly called.
“Yeah.” I sighed, wishing she hadn’t called me back. I needed to go while I still could. Every step away from the house was forced. Had leaving the first time been this hard?
“Thank you for the letters.” In her hand, she’d uncrumpled the last one.
I nodded once then turned again and loaded up the truck.
She stayed on the porch, waiting for my driver’s side door to close, then she disappeared inside the house.
My heart felt like it was being ripped from my chest as I backed out of the driveway. The pain got worse as I drove across town. When I arrived at my house, it looked the same as it had when I’d left. Clean. Expensive. Lonely.
Homes in this neighborhood rarely went on sale and when they did, they were sold for asking price or above. This was the neighborhood where everyone wanted a house.
Everyone except me.
Too much had changed.
I pulled into the garage, parked, then went inside. Mom had promised the place was clean. Poppy had stocked the fridge for me. I walked through the laundry room, taking my bags to my bedroom and setting them on the comforter.
“I forgot my pillow,” I grumbled.
I’d left it at Molly’s because it was Molly’s. Except it was mine.
I took a slow tour of the rest of the place. The kids’ rooms were spotless, their beds made and ready for them to come over tomorrow for the weekend. There was a small fern on the kitchen counter—something new Mom had probably found at the grocery store. All the other houseplants were watered and thriving, and the refrigerator was indeed stocked with my favorite dishes.
Mom and Poppy must have spent an entire day cooking. It was good the kids were coming over because otherwise, I’d never get through it all by myself.
The quiet was unnerving so I went to the living room and switched on the television. I found a baseball game and sat in my recliner. It wasn’t as comfortable as I remembered.
Only one inning went by before I lost all interest in the game, so I pulled my phone from my pocket to call Poppy.
“Hey,” she answered. “Are you at home?”
“Yes, thanks for the food.”
“Sure. How are you feeling?”
“Fantastic,” I deadpanned.
“Uh-oh.” In the background, the kids were laughing and playing with some sort of toy musical instruments. “Hold on one second. Let me go to a quiet room.”
I waited, muting the TV as she maneuvered through her house.
“Okay, what’s wrong?”
“I’m not in the right place.”
“And the right place is . . .”
I rolled my eyes. “You know the answer to that.”
“I do. But do you? What happened to ruining your life?”
“That plan kind of fell apart when Molly
and I got in a fight over one of the letters.” I rubbed my jaw. “It was bad. It was about her and that other guy.”
“Oh.” Poppy’s voice fell.
“She asked me if I could forgive her. I said I didn’t know.”
The other end of the line went silent. It lasted so long, I was sure I’d dropped the call. “Poppy?”
“I’m here.”
“You don’t have anything to say?”
“You don’t want to hear what I have to say.”
“No, I really do.”
“You have no right to hold that night against Molly. And shame on you if you do.”
I winced. Poppy’s sharp tone was one I hadn’t heard in, well, ever. “Ouch.”
“I’m not done.” She. Was. Pissed. “It’s time to pull your head out of your ass. Be with Molly, or for God’s sake, let her go. Please, let her go. She deserves to be happy. You both do. Be the man she needs or walk away. Because we both know she’ll love you until you tell her to stop.”
I loved her too. And I’d been telling myself to stop for years.
“Mommy,” a little voice yelled in the background.
“I’m in here, Brady,” Poppy yelled back. “Finn, I need to go and get dinner started before Cole gets home.”
“Okay,” I croaked.
“Love you. I’ll call you later. And . . . sorry. I’ve been holding that in for a while.”
“Yeah.” I had whiplash. She disconnected the call, but her words were still echoing through my quiet house.
She was right. On all points. I had no right to hold that night against Molly, not when she wasn’t holding so many of my mistakes against me.
So why was it so hard to forgive? To let it go?
I stood from the chair and went to the windows that lined the far wall of the room. Outside, one of my neighbors was teaching his son how to swing a baseball bat. I’d done the same out there with Max. I’d spent hours playing with my kids on the wrong fucking lawn.
Forgive. That’s all I had to do. I had to forgive Molly for the other man.
I closed my eyes, replaying that night in my head. I thought about her standing on the stairs to the loft, listening to Bridget run her down. She must have been devastated to see me sitting there, on the couch with another woman, not saying a thing.
I imagined her slipping down the stairs, silently retreating to her car. I bet she had fought hard not to cry because she’d been all dressed up and had her makeup done. That first shot probably went down too easy. She probably welcomed that numb feeling.
Because I’d broken her. Not just that night, but all the ones before. I’d abandoned her. I’d wrapped myself in a cocoon called work. I’d let her sit alone with a marriage counselor while I stared at the clock, knowing I was supposed to be at her side.
I’d let her down.
Me.
And in that moment, as I opened my eyes and the boy outside swung his bat too hard, missing the ball, I knew I didn’t need to forgive Molly.
I had already, years ago.
I didn’t want her to suffer or feel guilty for her actions. I wanted her life to be full of joy. Of laughter. I wasn’t harboring this load of resentment.
Molly shouldn’t be begging for my forgiveness. It was the other way around.
I needed hers.
This was all on me.
Be the man she needs or walk away.
Poppy, bless her soul, was so right. There’d be no more walking away. It was time to fix the mistakes I’d made all those years ago.
And I knew how to start.
I abandoned the window, walking straight down the hallway for my office. I sat in the chair, rifling through a drawer until I found a half-used legal pad. Then I got out a pen.
The first two words of my letter brought a smile to my face and hope to my heart.
Darling Molly
- LETTER -
Darling Molly,
* * *
I would be honored if you’d join me for dinner this Saturday night.
* * *
Yours,
Finn
Eighteen
Molly
“You guys are going to make yourselves sick.” I rolled my eyes at Jimmy and Randall.
Poppy stood by my side with her arms crossed over her chest. “I am not cleaning up puke. I love you both, but there are lines I will not cross.”
“I’m not going to puke,” Jimmy mumbled. The words were barely audible since his mouth was bulging with food.
Randall just shot us both a glare as he chewed. His mouth was so full, he couldn’t even close his lips all the way.
“Seriously, you are grown men. Seniors. Have some self-respect.” I handed Randall a napkin so he could wipe up the drool on his chin.
The pair didn’t listen to a thing we said. They hadn’t for the last twenty minutes. They just kept shoveling.
The counter was littered with partially empty jars. Chili. Cornbread. Cinnamon rolls. Macaroni and cheese. Apple pie. Chocolate mousse. Banana bread. Why? Because they were having an eating contest.
“If you stop this right now, I’ll name an item on the menu after both of you,” Poppy said. She’d been trying to bribe them since before this disaster had even begun. First, she’d offered to give them an extra dessert—on the house. Then she’d offered two desserts. Normally, sugar incentives were all it took to get these two in line.
But today, they were on a mission to one-up the other. I wasn’t sure exactly what had sparked this particular battle, but I’d overheard some grumblings and the name Nan more than once. Nan was probably a new resident at The Rainbow who’d snagged Jimmy’s and Randall’s attention, and this contest was some manly show to determine who would get to pursue Nan’s affections.
“And to think when I dropped the kids off at school this morning, I thought how nice it would be to spend my day with adults.”
Jimmy snapped his fingers in the air, pointing to his empty jar of chili.
“That is not how we order food in this restaurant,” Poppy snapped.
He sent her a pleading stare, glancing at Randall’s collection of jars. He was winning by one chili and a triple-berry crisp.
“No.” Poppy crossed her arms over her chest.
“I got you, Jimmy.” Cole went to the refrigerated display case at our sides and grabbed a chili from the top shelf. “Hot?”
Jimmy shook his head and waved Cole over.
“You are not helping, Detective.” Poppy glared at her husband.
His shoulders shook with silent laughter. “It’s too late now. We might as well see which one of them gives up first.”
Cole was the reason Jimmy and Randall had gotten the idea to start this whole ordeal. He’d come down to eat lunch at The Maysen Jar with Poppy. Apparently, they’d had some physical testing thing at the police department today, and he’d been cutting back carbs for a couple weeks to prepare. With the test complete, and reveling in his dietary freedom, Cole had inhaled two jars of mac ’n’ cheese like a kid who’d been given permission to devour his pillowcase of Halloween candy.
Seeing Cole eat so fast had triggered Jimmy’s and Randall’s animal instincts.
I could eat a jar faster than that.
I could eat two jars faster than you could eat one.
Then Cole had chimed in with the brilliant idea to have a contest.
One jar had led to two, then three.
When Poppy and I had both adamantly refused to serve them another jar of anything, Cole had come behind the counter and assumed the role of supplier.
“I can’t watch.” Poppy turned her back to the counter.
I did the same. We could still hear silver spoons scraping glass jars, but at least this way we didn’t have to see the idiots make themselves sick.
“Do you guys have any plans this weekend?” I asked Poppy. “I was thinking about kidnapping MacKenna and Brady on Saturday night. With everything that happened this summer, I feel like I didn’t get to spend much time
with them. Max and Kali will be with Finn so if you and Cole want a date night, I volunteer as babysitter.”
She didn’t hesitate. “Done. We’ll bring them over around six.”
“Perfect.” I smiled. It would be nice to spoil them rotten—and have them so I wasn’t home alone.
Max and Kali had been at Finn’s place two nights this past week and it had been torture. With them gone a few nights each week and back in school, my house was too quiet.
Though Randall and Jimmy’s antics had gone beyond the spectrum of crazy today, I’d needed it. I’d needed a good day at work and to remember the life I’d built post-divorce.
“What else is on the docket for today?” I asked Poppy.
She glanced over her shoulder then rolled her eyes. “I hadn’t planned to restock macaroni and cheese until tomorrow, but I’d better do it today instead.”
“Chili too,” Cole added. When she shot him a glare, he held up his hands. “What? It’s almost gone. Jimmy’s on three. Randall only two. I do feel sorry for the residents on their floor tonight. That’s going to stink.”
I coughed to cover up a laugh.
Poppy pulled her lips in to hide a smile.
This is exactly what I need today.
“Okay, I’m going to walk away from this.” I tossed a thumb over my shoulder. “I’m going to do a quick sweep of the tables then grab the laptop and get caught up on some emails.”
“I’m going to head back to the kitchen,” Poppy said then looked at Cole. “Are you heading back to work?”
He nodded. “As soon as we declare a winner here, I’m taking off.”
“Okay. Come say good-bye before you go.” She walked over and kissed him, melting against his chest as he slanted his head and deepened it.
They were adorable. And lucky. So damn lucky.
I left them all and went through the swinging door to the kitchen. The morning had been busy, the restaurant filled with college students. Half the tables were occupied with textbooks and laptops as kids studied, so I hadn’t spent much time in the office, sticking out front to help.
I settled in behind the desk, opting to sort through mail first to snag any bills. Mostly, the stack was junk. Poppy’s favorite kitchen supply company had sent her a new catalog that she’d be drooling over later.
