by Sherry Lewis
“She will. Eventually.” Molly leaned against the stove and watched him. “You’re her whole world now, and she loves you.”
“She has a funny way of showing it.”
Molly’s lips curved in a smile again. “Cheer up. She’ll come around. She’s just trying to make a point in the only way she knows how. She’s twelve, not twenty. She’s still learning how to discuss things calmly.”
“I hope you’re right.” Beau switched gears again. “The Homecoming committee is getting together tomorrow night to decorate the gym. You’re planning to come along, aren’t you? We could use an extra hand.”
“Are you sure I wouldn’t be in the way?”
“Are you kidding? You heard how much we have to get done this week. Trust me. Everyone will welcome you with open arms.”
She grinned shyly. “Okay, then. I think I’d like that.”
“Great. Plan on having dinner here with us before we go.”
Her smile faded and she glanced toward the stairs again. “Thanks, but that’s not necessary. I’ve already intruded enough.”
“You haven’t intruded. The salad was great, you saved me some work by making it, and I enjoyed having another adult to talk to. You’ll be doing me a favor. Besides, it might do Brianne good to have a woman around. Someone without an agenda—that is, if you can stand her attitude.”
Molly hesitated, but only for a heartbeat. “All right, then. I guess it would be okay for one more night.”
One more night. Beau felt a ridiculous grin stretching his face, but he didn’t even try to hide it. It had been a long time since he’d felt like a winner. Too long, in fact.
THE NEXT MORNING Molly made herself wait to take a shower and use Beau’s phone until she was certain he and the kids had gone for the day. Last night’s conversation had left her tossing and turning for hours after she’d said good night—not because of their discussion, but because she’d realized that it would take almost nothing to convince her that she was head over heels in love with him.
Again.
But that wasn’t why she’d come to Serenity, and she wasn’t going to let herself get sidetracked—especially since she didn’t trust her feelings. It wasn’t just Beau, she’d realized around midnight. She couldn’t trust her feelings for any man right now. She might downplay the devastation of her marriage to Ethan when she spoke of it aloud, but his betrayal had ravaged her emotionally. Her self-esteem had taken a direct hit when he’d decided to replace her with someone his family would approve of, and she wasn’t about to use Beau to soothe her hurt feelings.
She was far too vulnerable, but at least she knew it. Imagine the trouble she could get into if she didn’t.
There was fresh coffee in the kitchen, along with a note from Beau to help herself. She ignored both and hurried down the hall to the guest bath. She’d watched Beau drive away, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that he might return at any moment. Only after she’d dressed again did she allow herself to pour a cup while she studied the list of people she wanted to contact about her mother.
She had no clear idea what she wanted to ask them, but she hadn’t come all this way to let uncertainty stop her. Biting down on her bottom lip, she found Beau’s cordless phone and dialed the first number on her list.
Louise Duncan had been her mother’s closest friend, and Molly had vivid memories of spending time as a little girl in Louise’s big, sunny kitchen while the two women laughed and chatted. She held her breath while the phone rang and felt the flutter of nervous excitement in her stomach when a familiar voice came on the line a few seconds later.
Molly’s heart was thumping, but she forced herself to remain calm. “I don’t know if you remember me,” she said when she’d verified that she was talking with Louise. “You used to be friends with my mother, Ruby Lane.”
“Molly?” Louise’s voice rose in excitement. “My word, child, is it really you?”
Unexpected tears stung Molly’s eyes. “You remember?”
“Well, of course I remember.” Louise gave a soft laugh and the years fell away. “My, but it’s good to hear your voice. Where are you calling from?”
Her obvious delight made Molly feel young again, and cradled by familiar things. “Actually I’m here in Serenity. I came back for Homecoming Week.”
“And you thought to call me while you’re here? Aren’t you sweet!”
Molly battled a twinge of guilt. Would she have called if she hadn’t wanted something? “I’d love to see you while I’m here. Is there any chance the two of us can get together?”
“What a question! Of course we’ll get together. I’m tied up today, but you’ll come to my place tomorrow. No excuses.”
“No excuses.” Molly laughed and felt herself relaxing. “I’d love to come. It’ll be great to see you again.”
“And you. Do you remember how to get here?”
“You’d better give me your address and directions,” Molly said. “I don’t think I could find it without help.” She glanced around for paper and something to write with, then added, “I really do appreciate this. I have so many questions about my mother, and the two of you were so close I’m sure you’re the best person to ask.”
There was a brief pause before Louise’s voice came again, and this time she sounded slightly less enthusiastic. “Questions?”
“I hope you don’t mind. It’s just that I don’t remember anything about that night.” Molly dug into the stack of papers beneath the phone until she found a spiral notebook and the nub of a pencil. She carried everything back to the table and sat. “I don’t know why it’s a blank, but for about six months on either side of the accident, I don’t remember anything. Dad never talked about Mom much, and now that he’s gone, it’s too late to find out what he remembered. I don’t know anything except that she went off the road somewhere. I don’t even know where it happened.”
“Your father’s gone?” This time there was no mistaking the change in Louise’s tone.
But Molly still couldn’t think of any reason for it. “He died of a heart attack six months ago.”
“Oh.” A brief pause, then, “I’m sorry to hear that. I wish I’d known. I’d have sent a card or flowers.”
Molly cradled the phone between her shoulder and ear. “I probably should have let someone here in Serenity know about his death, but I honestly didn’t think of it.”
“Well, of course you didn’t, and no one could have expected you to. It wasn’t as if we ever saw you after you left, and Frank never bothered to let us know where you were.” Louise paused briefly, then sighed. “But listen to me going on. You don’t want to hear about all that. Let me tell you how to find me, and tomorrow we’ll talk about happier things.”
While Louise gave directions, Molly scribbled notes. The edge in Louise’s voice had disappeared, and Molly wondered if she’d only imagined it.
“I’ll expect you around eleven,” Louise said. “If that’s okay with you, that is.”
“It sounds perfect. I really appreciate this, Louise. I have so many things to ask you.”
“Don’t be silly,” Louise said after another brief pause. “But I hope you don’t expect too much. It’s been a long time, and I’m not sure how much I’ll be able to tell you.”
She rang off before Molly had a chance to ask what she meant by that. She stared at her notes for a long moment, telling herself one more time that she’d only imagined the wariness in Louise’s voice. But this was the second friend of her mother’s who seemed unwilling to talk about the accident, and she didn’t believe for a second it was merely coincidence.
MOLLY’S NEXT FEW CALLS were even less satisfying than her first one. Eleanor Peck’s phone rang at least eight times before Molly conceded that no one was home. Charmaine Wilkinson’s went to voice mail, and the number she had for Belinda Hunter had been disconnected.
Frustrated, she drove to the grocery store and wandered up and down every aisle, picking up everything on her list and a few im
pulse items, as well. She spent a few minutes in the pharmacy talking with Mrs. Dooley, whose daughter Katelynn had been a school friend of Molly’s. According to her mother, Katelynn had moved to Tulsa with her husband nearly ten years earlier, and she wasn’t planning to come back to Serenity for Homecoming Week.
Molly was a little disappointed to learn that, but she was even more discouraged by Mrs. Dooley’s insistence that she hadn’t known Molly’s mother well, and that she didn’t remember any details about the night Ruby Lane died. Was there anyone who remembered her mother? Anyone who’d admit to remembering? Serenity was a small town. Too small for a fatal accident to go unnoticed. People must remember…
So why wouldn’t they talk about it?
She thought about trying to find the spot where her mom had gone off the road, but she wouldn’t even know where to look. And even if she went to the effort to find out, she was pretty sure that going there alone wasn’t a good idea.
Back at the cabin she put her groceries away, pretending that the place was really hers and that it mattered where she put the tuna, bread and mayonnaise. By the time she saw Brianne and Nicky getting off the school bus at half-past three, Molly was so eager for company she convinced herself that her previous encounters with Brianne hadn’t been that bad. Molly was an adult, after all, and Brianne was a hurt child. She could make more of an effort to get along with the girl.
Armed with fresh determination, she closed up the cabin, crossed the lawn to the house and knocked on the door. She hadn’t forgotten Beau’s instructions, but she wanted to make sure the kids knew what he’d told her before she barged in on them.
Through the glass in the door, she could see Brianne enter the kitchen. She wore a pair of jeans and a pale blue sweater, and her hair skimmed her shoulders when she walked. She recognized Molly and her step faltered, but she came to the door, threw it wide and turned toward the refrigerator. “You don’t have to knock, you know. I thought my dad told you that.”
“He did.” Molly stepped inside and closed the door behind her. “I just didn’t want to come barging in and frighten you.”
Brianne pulled a can of soda from the fridge, opened it and drank deeply. “We’re not babies,” she said when she paused for a breath. “We wouldn’t get frightened just because you came into the house.”
“I know you’re not,” Molly assured her. “That’s not what I meant. I saw you and Nicky get off the bus. Are you here alone very long before your dad gets home?”
Brianne shrugged. “A little while. Why do you care?”
The question caught Molly by surprise, but if Brianne wanted direct, Molly was happy to oblige. “I don’t, really,” she said with a shrug and a smile. “I’m just trying to make conversation.”
Brianne’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly, then immediately narrowed again. “Why?”
“Because you and I are standing in the same room, and it would be rude to ignore you.”
“It’s not rude to ignore somebody you don’t like,” Brianne said with a smirk. “And it’s worse to pretend to like somebody when you really don’t.”
“Does that mean you don’t like me, or that you think I don’t like you?”
Beau’s daughter leaned against the fridge and folded her arms. “What do you think?”
“Well, since I have no reason not to like you, I think I know the answer. Are you going to tell me why? Or do I have to guess?”
Brianne’s shoulder rose in a nonchalant shrug. “My dad might not know what you want, but I do.”
“Oh? And what do you think I want?”
“I don’t think, I know.” Brianne met Molly’s gaze with a challenging glare. “You’re after my dad, aren’t you?”
Molly gaped at her. “Excuse me?”
“I said, you’re after my dad and you think you can make him like you. That’s why you’re here. That’s why you’re staying in the cabin. And that’s why you had dinner with us last night.”
The girl looked so sure of herself Molly knew she’d have to choose her words with great care. “That’s not true,” she said. “I do like your dad, but we’re friends, that’s all. I’ve never even thought about making him like me.” Not since high school, anyway. “I’m here for Homecoming, and to talk to people who used to know my mother. I’m staying in the cabin because the motel is full and I didn’t make a reservation. And I was planning on taking care of my own dinner last night, but your dad invited me to stay.”
Brianne tilted her head and looked at her from behind a curtain of pale-blond hair. “Why should I believe you?”
“Because I understand how important your dad is to you and I wouldn’t insult you by lying.”
“Then why do you look at him that way?” Brianne asked, flipping the pull-tab on her can with an annoying pinging sound.
A denial rose to Molly’s lips, but Brianne would never believe it. “I’m not sure how I look at him,” Molly said with a sheepish smile, “but you have to admit that he is a pretty good-looking guy. He always has been.”
“So you’re in love with him.”
“Not at all.” Molly moved to stand beside the counter. “There’s a difference between appreciating a good-looking man and being in love. I don’t know your dad well enough to be in love with him.”
“But you could fall in love with him, couldn’t you?”
Molly laughed uneasily. “I’m not sure what to say, Brianne. If I say no, you’ll think I’m insulting your dad. If I say yes, you’ll think I’m lying about the rest. I don’t think there is a good answer to that question.”
Brianne’s lips actually curved into a semblance of a smile, but the challenge still burned in her eyes. “I won’t think you’re insulting him if you say no. Why should I? You’re not his type at all.”
Ouch! But it wasn’t exactly news. “So we agree that it’s highly unlikely that I’m going to fall in love with your dad. What do you say the two of us try to get along while I’m here?”
“That’s not a real no.”
Shaking her head, Molly laughed in disbelief. “You drive a hard bargain, kid. But I’m old enough to know better than to say ‘never.’ You’re going to have to be content with highly unlikely, extremely remote, and it would take a miracle.”
With another shrug, Brianne pushed away from the refrigerator. “That’s what my dad said, too,” she announced as she headed down the hall toward the front of the house. She stopped at an open doorway and glanced back at Molly. “You can have a soda if you want one,” she said, then disappeared, leaving Molly staring at the empty hallway and trying not to admit how much Brianne’s offhand comments hurt.
CHAPTER SEVEN
SICK TO DEATH of blue and gold crepe paper, Beau followed Aaron out of the gymnasium and into the darkened corridor that led to the school’s cafeteria. They’d been working for hours, tying banners and stringing streamers until Beau’s fingers were stained with the school colors.
But his attention had only been partially on the job.
Every time he climbed the ladder, his eyes sought Molly across the cavernous room. Every time he went down, he caught himself straining to hear what she was saying. Her laugh intrigued him. Her walk fascinated him.
He was having a hard time staying focused on anything but Molly, and his inability to think was starting to annoy him, so he’d jumped at Aaron’s suggestion that they pay a visit to the snack machines outside the cafeteria. Maybe a short break would help him clear his head and put his fascination with Molly in perspective.
Music from Ridge’s portable CD player trailed after them as they walked through scraps of crepe paper trimmed from streamers.
“Tell you what,” Aaron said with an old man’s groan. “If I never see another roll of that stuff again in my life, I’ll die a happy man.”
“You’re not the only one.” Beau caught a fluttering bit of blue and stuffed it into his pocket to throw away later. “I’ll be glad when this is over. I need a few nights at home.”
Aa
ron trailed his fingers along the lockers as they passed. “You won’t get many. Mayor Biggs has already called a meeting of the WinterFest planning committee for next week.”
Beau moaned in protest. “I hope he finds my replacement soon. I need a break.”
“You don’t really think he’s going to replace you?”
“He has no choice. I’ve already told him that I have to resign.”
“So? There’s always been a Julander on the WinterFest committee. The town’s entire Christmas is inside that thick head of yours.” Aaron snorted a laugh and palmed his thinning hair. “You know what? I’ll believe it when it happens.”
Before Beau could argue, they drew to a stop in front of the darkened cafeteria and Aaron pulled a handful of change from his pocket. “So what’s the story on Molly?” Aaron asked, as Beau dropped quarters into the vending machine.
Beau’s first instinct was to punch Aaron for bringing the subject up. They’d been friends as long as he could remember and gotten into more scrapes together than he could count. They’d played on the same teams from Little League to their trophy-winning, high-school football squad, and each had been best man at the other’s wedding. He trusted Aaron like no one else—but he had no idea how to answer his question.
He shrugged and culled a few quarters from the change in his own pockets. “No story.” He fed four quarters into the coin slot and made a selection. “Why do you ask?”
Aaron snagged his bag of corn chips and tore it open. “No reason. Just curious. How did the two of you hook up, anyway?”
Beau dropped more coins into the slot and punched the buttons for another bag of chips. “We didn’t hook up. She’s staying in the cabin for a few days, that’s all. No big deal, okay?”
“Whoa, buddy!” Aaron froze with a chip halfway to his mouth. “It was just a question. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
“Yeah? Well, then, don’t say it like that. You could give somebody the wrong impression.”
“Okay. Whatever.” Aaron glanced over his shoulder toward the gym. “Is it just me, or is she a lot prettier than she was in school?”
