Molly's Mr. Wrong

by Jeannie Watt

  He was getting old and he needed to figure out a career before he simply settled for the status quo.

  His math class continued to go well, but his last English assignment hadn’t done his confidence any good. Molly now wrote neat comments in the margins in pencil instead of screaming red pen, and she tried to include examples and places where he could find helpful information. Of course they both pretended that that kiss had never happened, because what else could they do? He wasn’t about to put the moves on a woman who didn’t want him, even if she did haunt his thoughts at times. She’d surprised him by kissing him back in the parking lot—he had a strong feeling she’d also surprised herself.

  Molly was distantly friendly during class, treating him no differently than any of the other students—other than modifying his assignments.

  At the bottom of each graded paper she wrote a short note encouraging him to see her during office hours if he had questions, but she never voiced the invitation aloud. He did have questions, but the thing was, he had to do this on his own as much as possible. He’d never expected to need help every single step of the way.

  Again, not a confidence-builder. At night, after finishing his assignments and exercises, he’d head to his shop and lose himself in his work. If he had the kitten for the night, Buddy would come with him and practice his mouse skills. So far, the little guy was batting zero, but he continued the enthusiastic search for rodents. Finn thought it might be for the best that he hadn’t yet encountered a mouse, because he was still very small and a mouse could probably take him in a fair fight.

  Frankie the Monster was almost finished. His idea of putting the sculpture on the lawn for Halloween in a few weeks was squelched the first time he’d rocked the creation with one hand. He could probably move it on a handcart, but if the thing fell over, it could do some serious harm. His newest project, a hobbit-like creature, would be squat and have a more solid base. It’d be ready next Halloween. One scary sculpture a year was a good production schedule.

  In the meantime, he was hammering out new fenders for an old motorcycle that Terry Tyrone had sold him for a few hundred bucks and rebuilding the Ford engine as he could afford the parts. Not a bad life...but missing something, and that something was causing a gnawing inside him. He needed purpose and he needed an outlet. A guy simply couldn’t pound metal all day to take out frustrations—he needed...substance.

  * * *

  CHASE WAS BECOMING a fixture in Georgina’s life and Molly told herself she was okay with that. Her sister was an adult. She had a good head on her shoulders. And Chase was a nice kid—who worked in a feed store. He’d been out of high school for three years and had bounced from job to job, a victim of the recent recession, until finally landing a part-time gig at the store and another part-time job at a local grocer, stocking on the midnight shift three nights a week.

  When Molly commented on his jobs, Georgina had been quick to defend. Jobs weren’t easy to find in the Eagle Valley. Molly concurred...but she thought that some post-high school education would have helped his chances.

  Molly was also smart enough to keep her mouth shut. She liked Chase. Twice now he’d cooked dinner for her and Georgina when they’d had overloaded schedules, and he was always willing to pitch in with dishes or whatever else needed to be done around the house.

  And he hiked. Georgina had fallen in love with Montana on their day trips. “You can’t believe all the cool stuff outside the city limits,” she told Molly after her most recent excursion with Chase. Molly was aware of all the cool stuff, but didn’t mention how often she’d tried to get her little sister to leave the city limits. Nope. Nothing to be gained by that conversation except for sisterly discord.

  Every now and then Chase mentioned Finn in an offhand way while telling a story or explaining something that had happened at the store. Hearing Finn’s name always made Molly’s pulse bump a little, almost guiltily, and she hated that.

  So the guy was hot. So he could kiss. So she called him a pretty face who lacked substance—that hadn’t been meant for his ears, it didn’t truly describe her feelings for him, and she had apologized. She certainly wasn’t going to explain any of that stuff to him. That would be courting disaster, pure and simple. Finn was not predictable. Finn kissed her in parking lots.

  And you kissed him back.

  True. But since then, she’d come to her senses. Now if she could just shake this edgy, unsettled feeling she got before, during and after her night class. This feeling that things weren’t right and she needed to make them right.

  No. Simply, no.

  The only problem was that Finn was still having difficulty with his classwork—more and more as time passed. Despite his talents on the sporting field and in automotives, his brain was wired for scattergun when it came to English, and English was a skill he would need as an instructor—especially a high school instructor, as they were now directed to include writing in every aspect of education.

  “So do you want to go hiking with us next time?” Georgina asked Molly as they tidied up the kitchen after both had survived a long day of classes. “Chase says it’ll take four hours and we’ll see two alpine lakes.”

  “I’d go, but I have no boots,” Molly said.

  “I think we can work around that,” Georgina replied. “They’re having a sale at the Recreational Outlet. Chase and I are going tomorrow morning before he goes to work.”

  “Sounds fun, but I think I’ll stay at home and grade.”

  “You are so much fun,” Georgina said with mock enthusiasm.

  “I’ll do my best to tone it down.”

  “Mike dates more than you do.”

  It was true. He could have dated once and dated more than she had since arriving in Montana. As it was, Elaine Fitch was spending as much time at Mike’s house as Chase was spending at theirs. She always waved cheerily when she caught sight of Molly, and Molly found herself hoping she’d be that happy when she reached Elaine’s age.

  Maybe it was surviving teaching that had put her in such a good mood.

  Molly was once again in drowning mode, feeling as if she were never going to catch up, but doing her best to look as if she had everything totally under control—a normal state for any teacher.

  The thing was that she wasn’t certain she had everything under control. The first round of student evaluations—part of her overall professional assessment—had been given the week before, and to her surprise, she’d received one abysmal review. She had a strong feeling that Denny had penned the assessment, and even though she told herself she couldn’t control what people thought of her, that she’d been professional and fair with him, the fact remained that she had an unsatisfactory student review.

  Even worse, she didn’t see Denny changing his opinion of her before the semester was up, so she was simply going to have to excel in all other areas.

  She had a formal in-class observation coming up in a matter of weeks and the second set of student surveys would be given during the first week in December. Until that time she had to focus on being the best instructor she could because she wanted to keep this job and eventually work her way into tenure—one of her life goals.

  And, even with Finn issues, she loved the Eagle Valley and wanted to make it her permanent home. If she lost this job, she’d have to embark on another nationwide search, a move...

  Molly went to the cupboard and took out the chips for a quick pick-me-up.

  A couple handfuls in, she decided that she was overthinking things, making bonfires out of tiny sparks, but the worst-case scenario here was one she didn’t want to face.

  She simply couldn’t afford to lose this job.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  MIKE DIDN’T SHOW up for work Wednesday morning. Cal and Karl arrived around nine, emptying the coffeepot and then settling in for news and the occasional check of
their computer dating profiles. Finn figured that Mike was simply late, until Cal asked if Finn had heard from Mike that morning.

  “He was here yesterday, but left early.”

  “I tried to call a few times, but it went to voice mail,” Karl said.

  “Huh.” Finn pushed a hand over his head. Since Mike had come out of retirement, he rarely missed a day at the shop. “I’ll drive over and check on him.”

  The boys nodded and went back to the news. Finn started for the side door. “I’m heading over to Mike’s.”

  Lola lifted a hand without looking away from her computer screen and Finn headed out the door. He dialed Mike as he walked, and as the boys had said, it went straight to voice mail. There was always a chance that he was entertaining his lady friend in an intimate way and had shut his phone off, but Finn couldn’t see his grandfather playing romantic games early in the day.

  There was always a chance, though, so he checked for Elaine’s car when he pulled up at Mike’s house. Her usual parking spot was empty and the curtains were drawn on Mike’s windows. Maybe Mike was at Elaine’s house...

  Finn took the steps two at a time and after a brief hesitation, knocked on the door. He heard shuffling inside and tried the doorknob. It was unlocked so he pushed the door open. Mike stopped halfway across the room, Buddy held against his chest. The kitten peeked out over Mike’s big hand, but for once, Finn was immune to that crazy cuteness. His grandfather’s usually neat hair was practically standing up and his eyes were red-rimmed, as if he hadn’t slept. If Finn needed any other indicator that something was wrong, there was a Jameson bottle next to his grandfather’s favorite chair. Mike never drank alone, but it appeared that had been exactly what he’d been doing last night.

  “What the hell?” he asked as he closed the door behind him. “Why isn’t your phone on?”

  “I needed some time.”

  Mike turned and slowly moved back to his chair. Once he was seated, Buddy scrambled up the back cushion to the top, behind Mike’s head. Finn knelt next to the chair. “What happened, Grandpa?”

  Mike moistened his dry lips, then said simply, “Elaine.”

  “Did you guys break up?”

  Mike met his eyes and Finn was rocked by the depth of pain he saw there. “Cancer. She has cancer.”

  “Damn.” The word came out softly. “I’m so sorry.”

  Mike just shook his head and then settled it back against the cushions, staring at the opposite wall.

  “Do you have any details?”

  “Not a lot.”

  His grandmother, Mike’s wife, had died of breast cancer. Losing his beloved Annie had ruined Mike, and then he’d lost his nephew, Dylan’s father, not long after. A double whammy it had taken Mike years to recover from.

  Finn put a hand on his grandfather’s knee. “What kind of cancer? Do you know?”

  “Esophageal.”

  “How’s Elaine taking it?”

  “Better than I am,” Mike said. “I need...time...to get used to this.”

  “I’d tell you that you need to be strong to help her through this, but you know that.”

  “That’s exactly why I did my drinking last night. I got it over with and now I can focus on the inevitable.”

  “Are you sure it’s inevitable?”

  “I haven’t had a good batting record so far when it comes to dread diseases.”

  Finn got to his feet, clearing the thickness from his throat before saying, “Do you want me to hang with you here for a while?”

  “Somebody needs to run the store.”

  “Lola’s there. Cal and Karl—not that they’re employees, but they’ve been there for so long, I think they could run the place without either one of us.”

  Mike smiled weakly. “I’m not one for feeling sorry for myself,” he said gruffly.

  “No shit. Or for letting me or Dylan feel sorry for ourselves.” Finn took a seat in the recliner. “But sometimes it’s okay to grieve.”

  Buddy caught sight of Finn in the adjoining recliner and poised himself at the edge of his chair, wiggling his rear end as he prepared to leap up onto Finn’s lap. Mike reached behind him to scoop the kitten into one palm and stop the disaster before it happened. “Not yet, little guy.”

  The kitten walked up Mike’s shirt and settled on his shoulder, tucking his little head against Mike’s neck. The old man’s expression relaxed an iota.

  Finn leaned forward, loosely clasping his hands between his thighs. “I...uh...was thinking. I’m not home as much as I used to be, what with night classes and stuff. Maybe Buddy should just, you know, move in here.”

  Mike gave Finn a sharp look. “Then your house will be as lonely as this one is.”

  “I have my shop. The metalwork.” He shrugged one shoulder. “Maybe Buddy could get a little brother or sister.”

  “Have to be mighty damned little, considering Bud’s size.” But Mike didn’t seem displeased by the suggestion.

  “He needs to settle in one place or the other,” Finn said. “Cats are territorial. He’ll be happier if he has one home.”

  “Are you sure about this?” Mike asked gruffly, stroking the kitten with the tips of his fingers.

  “I’ll still have visitation rights. And if you need me to take him because...you know...then Buddy has a place he knows. But we’ll go into this assuming that is not going to happen.”

  Mike gave a silent nod and Finn leaned back against the cushions again. It wasn’t like he was losing Buddy, but he was going to miss the little guy while he was in the shop. And regardless of what he’d just told Mike, he didn’t think another kitten was in his immediate future.

  * * *

  MOLLY PUSHED DOWN hard on her briefcase, trying to contain the overload of papers she planned to take home that evening to grade while Georgina was out with Chase. She might honestly have to think about accepting papers over email and marking with track changes...at some point in the distant future. She still liked paper. She’d just gotten the case locked when someone knocked on her door, then pushed it open before she could answer.

  Finn. Tall, dark, truant.

  Molly straightened and pushed her glasses a little higher on her nose, telling her heart to slow down. Just the guy you’ve been having hot, impossible dreams about. “You missed class yesterday.”

  “Mike needed me.”

  She put both hands on the handle of her briefcase. “You’re supposed to let me know when those things happen.”

  “Yeah.” He hooked his thumbs in his front pockets. “I didn’t think about it at the time.”

  “Did...something happen to Mike?” she asked, alarmed by his grim expression.

  “Elaine.” Molly frowned as she tilted her head and he added, “Cancer,” making her heart slam against her ribs.

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s scaring the hell out of Mike and I didn’t want to leave him. Elaine came over and we discussed her prognosis and I did my best to calm Mike down. He...uh...my grandmother died of cancer.”

  “I see.” Molly glanced down at the floor, her gaze running smack into Finn’s boots. She looked up again. “I’m truly sorry about this. Your work will be excused, of course, and I’ll give you the assignment.” She started to open her briefcase, but Finn stepped forward, shaking his head.

  “Do you really think you should?”

  Molly shook back the hair that had fallen over her shoulder. “I don’t understand.”

  “I guess my question is...is my being in this class a waste of time for both of us? Honestly, do you think I can achieve my goal?”

  Molly’s chin sank to her chest. “You’ve already paid for the course and you’re halfway through. Why not finish?”

  “Because I’m really wondering if I’m actually the one doing the
work. It seems as if my hand is being held every step of the way.”

  She took a couple of steps toward him, stopping at the edge of her desk. It was the closest she’d been to him since they’d kissed in McElroy’s parking lot. Her body mentioned this to her in a couple of different ways, both of which she ignored. “Have you learned anything?”

  Finn considered for a moment. “I...guess I can identify some of my issues, even if I need help fixing them.”

  Molly made an open-palmed gesture. “So you’re leaving better than you came in.”

  “Yeah, am I wasting our time?”

  He wanted a definitive answer, so she gave him one. “No.”

  “You’re sure.”

  This Finn was so very different from the Finn of her teen years. Of course everyone had insecurities, but back then she’d never once considered the possibility that amazing Finn Culver would struggle at things she did easily. Yet she had no difficulty in believing the opposite—she had trouble with things Finn did not. Socializing, for one. Basketball, for another. But being bad at social activities and intramural sports wasn’t going to affect her chosen career. Difficulty with English could hurt Finn’s.

  Molly glanced up at the clock, then back at Finn, who was studying her bulging briefcase with a faint frown. “Let me buy you a cup of coffee.”

  He brought his gaze up to hers. “You’re being ironic, right?”

  Molly smiled a little. “No. Just less standoffish. We can go to the student union.”

  Finn gave a small nod. “Sounds good. I’ll buy.”

  “I think you missed the first part of the invitation, as in, ‘Let me buy you a cup of coffee.’”

  “Fine. You buy.”

  They crossed the common and Finn snagged a table in the nearly empty cafeteria while Molly got two black coffees. She set the mugs down and took her seat. “I like that they give a choice of paper or ceramic. Paper is... I don’t know...temporary, I guess.”