Worth The Wait (Small-Town Secrets-Fairview Series Book 1)

by Sophia Sinclair

  Of course, back then she hadn’t understood Hank’s weakness for anything in a skirt — or jeans, or shorts, or any other attire an attractive female might be wearing. He never tried to press her into having sex, though he was known to have made the rounds at a record young age. It was Molly herself who one night, while they were making out in the respectful way Hank always made out with her (hands never moving anywhere beyond her hips) placed his hand on her breast. They’d been dating for months and she was curious to see what sex would be like. Hank was surprised but didn’t stop to ask questions. Molly didn’t let him do anything else, but let him know he could if they used the proper protection, which they always did. Didn’t matter. She’d gotten pregnant toward the end of their senior year despite the care they took. That was right after her father had died and she’d already discovered there wasn’t going to be any money for college. She made the best of it, decided she’d dedicate herself to being a good wife to Hank, and before she knew it they had two babies. It wasn’t a bad life, actually. She loved being a mother and Hank adored the babies and wasn’t at all displeased to learn they were going to have a third. When Matt had taken her aside at the grocery store while she was bulging out of her well-worn maternity dress and had insinuated that everybody in town knew Hank was cheating, she knew immediately it was true. Not that she would have put it past Matt to lie; but certain little things she’d been careful not to notice could no longer be denied. Hank swore it wasn’t true, but she knew better. Hank swore he’d never cheat again, but she knew better than that, too. Tigers don’t change their stripes. She had made a colossal mistake. She told him they could work on their marriage and stayed with him until after Tommy was born, when she caught him cheating once again. She moved back in with her mom, got her old job at the library back, and went back to spending her Saturday nights alone. Well, not alone. She spent them with her mother and her three small children. She was once again the uncool girl, and decided she wasn’t going to try to change that ever again.

  Chapter 10

  On Monday, Molly began her work week with a feeling of resignation. She was pretty sure she hadn’t heard the last from Matt Green, and she was nervous about what he’d do next.

  Her irritations with that man went way back. She recalled that back as early as sixth grade, he had begun snapping her bra strap. She didn’t know how to make it stop. She was one of the first girls to need to wear a bra, and she was incredibly embarrassed at her changing shape. It didn’t help that every boy her age and older seemed to find her rapidly changing figure absolutely fascinating. Most of them just stared at the front of her shirt. It was only Matt who felt free to reach out and snap her bra anytime he was behind her. It made her nervous and she spent considerable effort always trying to be aware of where he was so she could avoid being close enough for him to touch her.

  She never dreamed, back then, that she’d be in her 30s and still dealing with him. Now it wasn’t her bra strap she feared him messing with; it was her livelihood. Now that he’d forced David out of the job, she needed to make another hire to replace him; she and Lindsay couldn’t take care of the library, which was open six days a week, alone.

  She checked her files for resumes and applications. She’d already picked over them before, and none of the candidates exactly tickled her fancy. She’d have to settle for one of them, though, or give up every Saturday. However, a couple of hours later she found a promising new candidate had sent her an email. Looked like his family had just moved here — Molly had never heard of him. He had recommendations from English teachers at the old school and from here. Sounded like he was the literary type who could be counted on to take the job seriously. She responded to the email and suggested he come in after school for his interview. His name was Tim Olson, and he was 17. One more year of school, then, so she’d keep him until he went off to college, if all went well.

  He was a tall, lanky young man, longish black hair and very pale. He looked to be the sort who preferred reading to sports, and said he intended to study English at college.

  “I suppose you know that probably means you’ll never be rich?” she joked.

  “Money isn’t important. Having a career you enjoy is important,” he said. “Don’t you agree?”

  “Up to a point. Money is more important than you think, though. But the job is yours if you want it. You’ll work a lot of Saturdays; we’re open half-days on Saturdays and you’ll split them with Lindsay. She’s the other part-timer. I won’t schedule you on your own until you’re well trained, though. Mostly you’ll help out after school. Lindsay has a work-study program through the high school so she gets a few hours during the school day. I don’t know if you might be able to get the same deal, but you can check with Mrs. Hopkins, the guidance counselor. You’ll get some school credit that way and it allows me to actually take a lunch on those days.”

  Molly seriously hoped Mrs. Hopkins would accept him into the program. Molly didn’t really mind staying at the library all day, but it was awfully nice to be able to get away for an hour and get something besides a packed lunch eaten at her desk. Strictly speaking, it was probably illegal that she worked the hours she did without a break, and in previous years the director always had one adult full-time assistant.

  That person had been Molly for years. But once Molly had become the director, Matt had convinced the board that one full-time person was enough, and only grudgingly allowed her two part-timers. That means Molly could only take vacations during the summer, when her part-timers were off school. She’d tried hiring non-students, but had found students generally worked out better; most adults weren’t happy with such low pay and so few hours. In an absolute emergency, one of the board members could take over for a day or so, and that had happened occasionally when Molly or one of her children had been ill, and for three days after her mother had passed away. The board member to pitch in was never Matt, of course. Usually it was one of the ineffectual older ladies who made up the rest of the board. They didn’t know how to do much of anything and she always returned to find everything in chaos. But Matt claimed there just wasn’t money for any other arrangement. She might be inclined to believe it if she didn’t know that Matt simply refused to ever increase the property taxes that provided most of the library support. She was all in favor of keeping property taxes low — she paid them too, of course. And while the school, park district and every other taxing body tended to increase their levy just a little every year to at least keep up with inflation, the library’s levy had stayed exactly the same every single year since Molly had taken over as director. Even though housing valuations had risen a little bit, with the levy staying the same, the rate plunged to the lowest point in the town’s history.

  Each year, Molly’s library budget was a little tighter. Each year, she tried to economize a little bit more on the utilities, keeping the library a little colder than ideal in the winter. There was no central air, so the utilities were cheap in the summer. She’d argued for the installation of central air, but naturally Matt swore the town couldn’t afford it. Each year, she would present a budget for buying more books, but Matt would cut it down. “The library is already full of books!” he’d roar. “Why do you think you need to keep buying more? There are already more books than anybody but maybe you could ever read. We aren’t running this library just for you to be able to read whatever new book strikes your fancy, Molly. No, I’m not approving this book budget. You need to be realistic.” The old ladies on the board never crossed Matt. One year she actually held a bake sale in order to be able to afford to purchase more books; she’d baked endless cookies and cupcakes herself. It was a huge success, but after that first year Matt had put his foot down and forbade her to do it again. The library would be liable if anybody got sick from her cookies, he said. She hoped he’d grow tired of serving on the library board, but every four years, he ran again, and always unopposed. Every year, the old ladies backed him up and voted for him as their president. Molly couldn’t see a
way past him, and quietly seethed. But she kept her resentment to herself and tried to make the most of things.

  The days passed. Every night after work, Tommy quickly did his homework and then quickly went to David’s to do more remodeling work. Beth had a full schedule of extracurriculars, but she found a few days to go over and paint. Tommy and David had completely gutted the small downstairs bathroom and were slowly going through the process involved in putting in all new tile and fixtures. Gone was the claw-foot bathtub. A fancy new walk-in shower with a pebbled floor and a fixture that would make showering feel like standing in a warm rain was going in instead. Molly kind of liked the idea of the old bathtub and wanted to suggest he retain the one in the upstairs master bathroom, but she didn’t dare make any sort of suggestion that might imply she thought the master bath might be of any concern of hers.

  She and David had not repeated their night of passion. She could see he was hurt and confused by this, but she couldn’t figure out how to see him without raising gossip. Even though everybody in town already seemed to assume the two were a couple, she just couldn’t bring herself to make it official. The two of them texted quite a bit, and had late-night phone calls, but she had so far refused his offer to take her for dinner in Springfield or to just spend an evening together. First it was because Suzie was home for the weekend, and then it was because she had to rent a floor cleaner and do the semi-annual floor polishing at the library, which could only be done on the weekends. She’d start right after closing time Saturday, work until late, and continue the work all day Sunday. During the week she attended Beth’s volleyball games. The truth was, she was afraid to let herself get close to David. He was beginning to grow impatient, she knew. Lori warned her she was going to lose the best chance she’d had if she wouldn’t just go see the damned man for one night.

  “I’m more than happy to babysit if you do an overnight! Besides, don’t the kids still spend every other weekend with Hank? For God’s sake, you’re a grown woman! It’s OK for you to have a boyfriend. Your kids even like the guy! I can’t see what’s holding you back.”

  “I know, I know. You’re right. It’s just … I’m busy.”

  “You’re not that busy. The kids are at Hank’s this weekend, right?”

  “Yes.” Lori knew everybody’s schedule at least as well as she knew her own, it seemed.

  “The next time he invites you, go! He’s still at The Clipper, right?”

  “Yes, but as soon as they finish the downstairs bathroom, he’s moving in. They’ve painted his bedroom and all the floors are done. He says he can live without a full kitchen for a while, but not a bathroom. I guess he’ll be moved in by next weekend if they keep clipping along at this pace.”

  “You go for it, girl. Trust me, everybody in town already assumes you’re sleeping with him anyway. You might as well enjoy yourself.”

  “All right. I know you’re right.”

  “Yay! Good for you, girl! I’ve never seen anybody need to get laid as bad as you do. I’m going to make an appointment at Mabel’s for you. My treat. Get yourself a mani-pedi and get all waxed down below.”

  “I’ve never been waxed in my life. And I paint my own toes.”

  “What, you go around bushing out, or what?”

  “I … trim … a bit,” she said primly.

  “Seriously, I’m making you an appointment. You’re going to knock his socks off.”

  “You’re a force of nature, Lori. But OK.”

  Lori was right about the mani-pedi being relaxing, but she’d completely lied about the waxing not hurting “much.” It hurt much more than Molly had anticipated, but she felt incredibly daring when she checked out the results later. She wasn’t sure she intended to do this every three weeks as Lori apparently did, but she could see doing it once in a while, for special occasions. Now she waited for David to invite her out again.

  But days passed, and he didn’t. He was still friendly, but he no longer suggested they get dinner in Springfield and he no longer suggested he come over and visit her when the children were gone. Maybe Lori had been right, and she’d missed her chance. She felt stupid when she showered and saw all the expensive prep work, which apparently nobody but she and Mabel were ever destined to see. Maybe he’d met someone else, she thought. He was a good-looking man who attracted plenty of female looks; why should he wait around while Molly dilly-dallied around?

  Well, she certainly wasn’t going to put herself forward. She always remembered that moment with Hank when she’d moved their relationship along by placing his hand on her breast. If she hadn’t done that, there was no telling whether she and Hank would have gotten more serious. She had always been puzzled about how such a womanizer had been, nevertheless, quite respectful with her. She finally had decided that Hank was one of those men who saw women as being in one of two categories, the Nice Girls and the Bad Girls. She’d heard it called the Madonna-whore dichotomy. Her theory was that he wouldn’t have ever pressed a Nice Girl into sex, and that was apparently what he thought of her. Molly didn’t think it would be a great idea to repeat history by all of a sudden signaling that she was ready to get serious with David. Even though she’d already engaged in a bit of Bad Girl behavior already. Her body tingled at the thought of his kisses. She herself didn’t buy the theory; she was completely comfortable with the concept of women making their own relationship and sexual decisions for themselves. She didn’t believe a woman’s sexual choices were anyone’s business but her own. Lori had often wryly pointed out that Molly had the beliefs of a modern woman but the behaviors of one from the turn of the century. “The turn of the last century,” Lori had said, laughingly.

  Molly knew Lori had a point. Theoretically, she should have been able to have called David and invited him to stop by on an evening when her children were with their father; in practice, she just couldn’t bring herself to do it. She fervently hoped he would, in fact, ask. Her phone buzzed and she checked. It was, as she’d hoped, a text from David.

  David: “Are both kids able to come tonight? Lots of painting!”

  Molly: “Yes. I’m dropping them off at 6. We will do early dinner first.” She hoped he’d suggest the two of them get together afterward, but this time he didn’t make any such suggestions. She kept looking at her phone, but he didn’t text again.

  That evening, she rushed home after work and made a fast dinner of fried egg sandwiches. They were one of her favorite things to eat, and they were inexpensive and easy to make, too. She and the kids had eaten a lot of them through the years. Tommy had three. Afterward, they’d given Clarence a short walk — he could make it around the block without too much panting now. The cooler weather helped a bit, but he also seemed to be a bit slimmer.

  “What’s on your agenda tonight?” she asked, as she drove the short distance to what she still thought of as the old Conrad place.

  “I’m painting the hallway,” Beth said. “Well, re-painting it. I thought he said he wanted white paint there. He wanted the off-white. It looks almost the same anyway, but he wants the cream color. Oops. But anyway, one coat should do it. The old color was this God-awful green. It looks way better now.”

  “What about you, Tommy?” Molly asked. “Bathroom?”

  “No, the bathroom is done, actually,” Tommy said. “And it looks really awesome. You really should come in and see it. I think tonight we are going to start tearing the old counter off in the kitchen. He moved the temporary kitchen stuff to the dining room. He put an old card table in there so he’ll use that for his microwave and stuff until he gets the kitchen done.”

  “So he’s keeping the old cabinets?” she asked as she turned into the long driveway.

  “Yep. We already wiped them down and polished them. I thought that was kinda dumb to do it before we got it all dirty in there again, but he said he just wanted to make sure they were gonna look good before he decided for sure to keep them. But they look pretty good.”

  Molly parked the car and decided she’d use
Tommy’s suggestion that she look at the progress as an excuse to invite herself in. Maybe he’d invite her to dinner. Or even kiss her.

  David was hard at work when they walked in. A small portion of the awful old counter top was piled into a corner, and dust was everywhere. His eyes registered surprise at seeing Molly there. Molly drank in the sight of him. Even with construction dust covering his clothes and dirty hands, she sucked in her breath. The man looked good even when filthy. She felt her nipples harden and glanced down; fortunately her bra kept her arousal secret.

  “Tommy wants to show off the work he helped with in the bathroom,” she said, by way of explanation.

  David rose and brushed the dust off his hands.

  “Of course. Tommy, want to show your mom?” He then went back to using a crowbar to carefully work the old counter top off. Molly felt disappointed that he wasn’t going to show her himself, but followed Tommy upstairs to look at the work he’d helped with.

  Molly was impressed. The bathroom somehow managed to look ultra-modern yet still traditional enough that it fit with the style of the rest of the old house. Molly sighed. Her own bathroom was an ugly salmon pink that must have been the height of style when it was installed, but it looked tacky and awful to her now. Money for bathroom remodeling was not in her budget and probably never would be.

  “It looks very nice,” she told Tommy. Some of the house looked picture-perfect. All of the main floor had now been painted, and much of the upstairs. The master bedroom, which was still empty, had polished wood floors, white woodwork and light gray walls. He hadn’t started working on the master bath, however. Tommy had explained that David wanted a finished bath on the main floor first, so guests wouldn’t have to enter his bedroom to use the bathroom. He could use the downstairs bathroom for a while and fix up the master bath at his leisure. It still had a claw foot tub, into which Molly would have liked to have climbed into to enjoy a long bubble bath. The thought of sharing a bath with David crossed her mind. But she sighed and returned downstairs with Tommy.