Letters to Molly: Maysen Jar Series - Book 2

by Devney Perry

  My hands paused on a letter toward the bottom of the pile. It wasn’t addressed to the restaurant but to me. And it was in Finn’s handwriting.

  “What is this?” I grumbled. Weren’t we done with the letters? Seriously, I needed to be done with the letters.

  The other mail was tossed to the side as I tore open the envelope’s seam and pulled out the single piece of paper.

  My jaw fell open as I took it in.

  Dinner? I turned the page over, but the back was blank. Then I read it again. Why would he want me to go to dinner? And why would he invite me with a letter?

  I stood from the desk and hurried out of the office, letter in hand.

  Poppy hadn’t made it to the kitchen yet. She was laughing with Cole as Randall lifted his hands in victory.

  Jimmy was breathing hard, his face a shade of green as he clutched his stomach. “Nan is a sweetheart, but no woman is worth this kind of pain. I’m already gassy.”

  Randall chuckled.

  “Some women are worth it all,” Cole said, pulling Poppy into his side.

  I opened my mouth to pull Poppy aside but stopped short. Everyone was in such a good mood, despite the foul odor creeping into the air. This letter, though not bad, would take the spotlight.

  Randall slid from his chair, his arms still raised and started dancing around the floor.

  “For a guy who uses a cane, you sure are nimble,” I teased.

  His response was a smirk and to gyrate his hips.

  “That Nan, she’s a lucky woman,” Poppy teased.

  Cole let out a catcall before belly laughing as he got out his phone to record the show.

  I folded up the letter, joining in the laughter, determined not to let it bother me today. I wasn’t sure what Finn was playing at, but today was one of the first normal days I’d had in a while.

  I needed normal, not more letters to confuse my emotions.

  With the letter folded in half and shoved in my back pocket, I turned to go back to the office but stopped when Mom’s voice carried through the restaurant. “Molly.”

  “Hi, Mom.” I abandoned the kitchen door with a smile and met Mom in the middle of the restaurant for a hug. “What a surprise. What brings you here today?”

  She smiled. “I hadn’t been in for lunch in a while, and I had a client cancel their session. I thought I’d come and say hello.”

  “Wonderful. I’ll sit with you. What would you like?”

  “A salad, please. Whichever you’d recommend.”

  “Okay. Pick a seat and I’ll bring it over.”

  She nodded, eyeing Jimmy—still groaning—and Randall—still dancing—along with their piles of jars.

  I hurried to get her some lunch, a spinach salad with an incredible champagne vinaigrette Poppy had mixed up this morning.

  “How are you?” I asked after sitting down across from her.

  “Fine.” She went through prepping the salad. “Just fine.”

  “And Dad?”

  “Fine as well. He’s been editing a colleague’s book this week, so I’ve hardly seen him.”

  And for Mom, that was probably preferred. Dad too. They liked their lives separate, something I’d never been able to understand since Finn and I had merged every single piece of our marriage. Relationship. Business. At the beginning, we’d been virtually inseparable.

  Finn and I might not have worked out, but I wouldn’t have traded those days for anything. Mom and Dad, they’d never had that. They’d never had the passion or the love for one another that burned brighter than a star.

  Even though our star went dark, it had been worth it.

  “I got an interesting call this morning,” Mom said before taking another bite. “This is delicious.”

  “Poppy’s a culinary genius.”

  “That she is. So anyway. The call. It was from Lauren Trussel.”

  “Oh?” I straightened in my chair.

  Lauren Trussel was the marriage counselor I’d gone to see before the divorce. After those sessions with her alone, with me making excuses for why Finn hadn’t bothered to show up, I’d finally given up. How many sessions did it take before Lauren wrote us off as a destined-for-divorce case? One? Maybe two?

  “And what did she say?” I asked.

  “She said she got a strange call yesterday from Finn. He wanted to schedule some time to visit with her.”

  I blinked. “Finn? My Finn?”

  “Well, he’s not your Finn anymore. You are divorced. And now that he’s finally out of your house and back in his own, you can move on with your life.”

  “That’s not . . .” I trailed off, not wanting to get into a discussion about her fears that I had an unhealthy attachment to my ex-husband. She didn’t know that Finn and I had been sleeping together before his accident. She didn’t know about the letters. She wasn’t going to find out either.

  “Why would Finn want to see Lauren?” I asked. “And why would she tell you about it?”

  “We’ve always kept in touch. She keeps me privy to things I need to know.”

  “Things you need to know? And that includes Finn? What about doctor-patient confidentiality?”

  “Well, Finn isn’t technically a client. At least not yet.”

  The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. There was something more here. Something Mom was keeping to herself.

  “Mom,” I said gently. “Did Lauren keep you privy to the sessions I had with her?”

  Another shrug as she finished a bite of salad. “I knew at a high level what was happening.”

  “Define ‘high level’ for me, please.”

  “She gave me an assessment of your mental and emotional state on a scale of one to ten. She felt it important that I know when you were close to a breakdown so I could be there to support you, since Finn never bothered to show up for your sessions.”

  And there it was. All this time, Finn had been right. If Lauren was comfortable telling Mom about how I’d been feeling, she would have been just as comfortable giving high-level details of the sessions had Finn showed up.

  He’d been worried that Mom would learn about us. And he’d been right.

  Damn it.

  “That’s not okay.” My hands were balled, the muscles furious as I spoke. “She had no right to share that with you.”

  “Don’t get all flustered about it, Molly. There aren’t many therapists in town. We all keep in touch in case we run into a difficult case and need input.”

  “I’m not a difficult case. I’m your daughter.”

  “A daughter who let her partner rule her life for far too long.”

  Rule my life? That was ridiculous. Mom made Finn out to be this controlling, egomaniacal villain. “You never liked Finn. I don’t understand why.”

  “You’re a different person when he’s around.”

  “A different person? What do you mean?”

  “You’re more worried about his feelings than you are your own. You give him too much power.”

  “Power over what? I’ve always made my own decisions. I’ve always lived my life. Taking his feelings into account isn’t a bad thing, Mom. That’s what you do when you love someone.”

  “You never moved to New York after college. You gave up that dream.”

  I rolled my eyes. “That was my dream for about a month when I was sixteen, when I thought I wanted to work on Wall Street. I mentioned it to you once and you never let it go. My dreams changed.”

  “And what about his business? You started that business together and once it was established, he all but shoved you out the door.”

  “I stayed home with our children. But you are right, that was hard for me to accept.” I’d give her that one.

  “Does this really matter?” she asked between bites. “I came to have a nice lunch with you and to let you know Finn is seeking counseling. Maybe it’s because of the accident, but you should know. He could be on the verge of an emotional crisis. It might not be safe for him to be alone with Kali and Max.�
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  What the hell?

  “Do you hear yourself?” I shook my head. “Finn would never do anything to harm our children. He isn’t having an emotional crisis. He went through an incredible trauma. You of all people should applaud him for wanting to talk through any issues that may have caused.”

  Though it would have been nice to know he was struggling. After all the letters, after all the air we’d cleared these past few months, he still didn’t trust me with his feelings.

  “I have your best interests at heart.”

  I’d heard that statement from Mom a thousand times, always when I didn’t agree with her. “I’m not doing this anymore.”

  “Doing what?”

  “Playing both sides. I love Finn. I will always love Finn, whether we are together or not. He’s the father of my children and a good man. You can judge my failed marriage all you want, but it’s time you learn to keep those opinions to yourself. Do not come here or to my home and belittle him.”

  Mom looked at me like I’d gone crazy. “What is wrong with you?”

  “Nothing.” I stood from the table. “I’m just making my position perfectly clear. In the choice of you versus Finn, he will always be the winner. Call that unhealthy. Call me a pushover. Call me whatever you want. That’s your decision. But I’ve made my choice. I hope you can respect that. Please enjoy the rest of your meal. It’s on me.”

  Without another word, I left my mother sitting slack-jawed at the table. I crossed through the restaurant, my heart racing. I passed Randall and Jimmy as they sat nearly comatose on their stools. Cole must have snuck out the back door. I managed to keep my chin up and shoulders pinned until I made it into the kitchen, then I blew out the breath I’d been holding and let my hands shake.

  Poppy was at the table working. She abandoned whatever she was mixing when she saw my pale face. “What happened? Are you okay? You’re as pale as a ghost.”

  “I’m okay.” I took three deep breaths. “I’m okay.”

  “Are you sure?”

  I nodded. “I need you to tell me something as my best friend and not as Finn’s sister.”

  “Okay.”

  “Is it crazy that I love Finn?”

  “Maybe,” she answered. “But I’d rather be crazy in love than just crazy.”

  I giggled, my shoulders relaxing away from my ears. Leave it to Poppy to make me smile. I walked to the table, dropping my elbows to the top and resting my face in my hands. “I don’t think I’ll have the mother-daughter relationship I’ve always wanted.”

  “Sure you will. With Kali.”

  My heart swelled as I pictured Kali’s face from this morning, her smile wide and bright as she walked away from the Jeep to start her school day. “God, you’re so right. I feel like I’ve been trying for years to build this easy dialogue with my mom and it’s just . . . not easy. It never has been.”

  Mom lectured. I listened. I placated her because it was too exhausting to debate with her. I’d learned that at an early age. Mom had an answer for everything. Rarely was it You’re right, Molly.

  “I’m tired of trying,” I admitted.

  The door swung open with a squeak, and I braced, expecting Mom to storm through with some choice words.

  Instead, Finn strolled inside. “Hey.”

  “Hey.” I stood up from the table. “Was my mom still out there when you came in?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you talk to her?”

  “Yes.”

  I gave him the side-eye. “What did you say?”

  “I started with hello, then I told her that shade of navy looked good on her but hustled in here before she could say something to piss me off.”

  “Thanks for that. It’s probably best that only one of us fights with her today.”

  He blinked at me twice. “You got into a fight with your mom? Like a real fight?”

  “I don’t know if it was really a fight,” I told Finn. “But she made me mad, and I drew a line in the sand.”

  “I’m going to head out front and keep an eye on things. Let you guys talk.” Poppy wiped her hands on her apron, then she squeezed Finn’s arm as she passed by and out of the kitchen.

  “Let’s go to the office.”

  He followed me down the hallway, taking the seat across from me at the desk, leaning his elbows on his knees to give me his full attention. “What happened?”

  “Mom doesn’t like you.”

  Finn chuckled. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

  “I guess I thought that someday she would. But I see now she won’t. I made it clear that she can keep those opinions to herself because they aren’t welcome in my presence, that I’m on your side and she needs to be respectful.”

  “You stuck up for me with your mom?”

  “I did.” I nodded. “I’m sorry I didn’t do it sooner.”

  “Wow.” He sat back in the chair. “I, um . . . thanks.”

  “You’re welcome. I’m sorry that you’re struggling right now. If there is anything I can do to help, even if it’s just to listen, I’m here.”

  “Uh, I’m struggling?” Finn’s eyebrows came together. “What are you talking about?”

  “Mom. You were right about the counseling. She would have known all about our sessions with Lauren Trussel. She came in for lunch today and told me that Lauren had called her and said you’d scheduled some time to talk with her.”

  “Annnd I’ll be canceling that appointment.”

  “It’s not fair. You should be safe to talk about the accident if it’s causing you stress. I can do some digging to find a therapist in town who doesn’t associate with Mom.”

  “I’m not stressed about the accident. It’s over. I’m fine. I feel lucky and really fucking happy to be alive. I wanted to meet with Lauren because you met with Lauren.”

  “I’m confused.”

  He stood and came around the desk, sitting on the edge. “The counseling appointment wasn’t for me. It was for us.”

  “Huh?”

  “I had planned to bring you along. For marriage counseling.”

  “We’re not married.”

  Finn shrugged. “Did you get my letter?”

  “Don’t change the subject. You want to go to marriage counseling with your ex-wife?”

  “Better late than never.”

  My head was spinning, and it took me a moment to let it all sink in. Finn wanted to go to marriage counseling with me. That was . . . odd. And incredibly sweet. “You want to go to counseling?”

  “I thought maybe we had some things to talk about, but it doesn’t matter now because I’m not going to meet with Lauren. I’d hoped I was wrong and paranoid about her being one of your mom’s spies. Guess I was right.”

  “Yes, you were. But that aside, thank you. The gesture of the counseling . . . I appreciate it.”

  “You didn’t answer my question. Did you get my letter?”

  I shifted in my seat so I could pull it out from my pocket. “This letter?”

  “That’s the one.” Finn grinned. “What do you say? Have dinner with me Saturday? My parents already agreed to watch the kids.”

  “I have plans. Sorry.” I stood from the chair and walked past him toward the door. I wasn’t sure what was happening, with the counseling thing and the letter asking me out, but we’d already decided to go our separate ways. More than once.

  “Hold up.” Finn rushed to catch up as I walked through the kitchen. “What plans?”

  “I’m babysitting MacKenna and Brady so Poppy and Cole can have a date.”

  “Oh,” he grumbled. “Then how about Sunday?”

  “It’s a school night.”

  “Last time I checked, you’re not in school.”

  “We have two kids who are. They should be at home, getting ready for the week.”

  “My mom can come over and watch them there. They’ll be in bed by nine, just like every other night.”

  I went through the swinging door and behind the counter.
“I’ll take over out here.”

  “Okay.” Poppy smiled and disappeared back into the kitchen.

  Finn was standing at the end of the counter, his legs planted wide and his arms crossed over his chest. “I’ll pick you up on Sunday at six.”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because,” I hissed, walking closer to him so Randall and Jimmy wouldn’t hear. “We’re not doing this again.”

  Did he think I’d jump back into the affair we’d had before the accident?

  “I’ll repeat, why not?”

  “We’ve been down this path. Too many times. We agreed it was better this way, so . . . there.”

  “I changed my mind,” he declared. “I’ll change yours too.”

  Before I could come up with a retort, Randall interrupted us from his chair. “What are you two whispering about?”

  “Nothing,” I answered.

  “I asked Molly on a date.”

  “Finn,” I snapped, smacking him on the arm.

  “What? They’re going to find out anyway.”

  “And why is that?”

  He grinned. “Because after our date on Sunday night, you’ll be all smiles come Monday morning.”

  Nineteen

  Finn

  “You’re taking me to Burger Bob’s?” Molly asked as we walked down the sidewalk along Main Street.

  I grinned and dropped my hand to the small of her back. “You still like burgers with extra cheese and extra bacon, don’t you?”

  “Duh.”

  “Then Burger Bob’s it is.” My smile widened as I opened the door for her. We both took in the restaurant, standing in the threshold for a long moment. I steered Molly to a high-top table along the far wall, one that would give us privacy to talk.

  It hadn’t been easy to convince Molly to come out tonight. She’d declined five more times the day she’d gotten my letter at the restaurant. But I’d stood behind the counter, asking over and over with my feet bolted to the floor, refusing to leave until she’d agreed to a date tonight.

  Finally, she’d huffed and said yes. Jimmy had clapped for us. Randall had glared.