“And Molly, this is Shawn Corrigan, our new Junior Accountant.”
We shake hands and Shawn tells me that he graduated at the top of his class at Virginia Commonwealth University in Richmond, and he’s excited for the opportunity…
I’ve zoned out because frankly all this business talk is so boring. I just want to make pretty dolls and sell them to people to bring them joy. Does Shawn think he needs to impress me with his resume?
“Shawn, I am sure you’re one smart cookie to get past Brenda and the rest of her team. Welcome to Molly’s Dollies.”
He winces as if the name of the business is emasculating him. He will probably make up a different name for this job on his resume.
Brenda looks at her phone and says, “Well, I’m off to meet with Mary Ann on the Wags and Woofs side of the house. Shawn, I trust you’ll get started on those figures we discussed?”
She raises one grey eyebrow and Shawn turns redder than his hair. “Yes, Bren…I mean, Ma’am.”
As soon as she’s out of earshot, I say, “Don’t let her scare you. She’s tough but she’ll teach you a lot.”
Lia nods her head and we take a moment to be grateful for all the educated, real grown-ups leading this team. With the DeLuca’s lawyer, Ed Franklin, and the business consultant, Henry Daley, we should all be looking at some serious return on investment.
Someday, anyway.
Lia senses the awkwardness and chimes in, “Oh and Molly, Shawn has just signed a lease at Pentagon Place, too. Isn’t that cool? He’s moving into Stan’s old apartment.”
“Wow, that’s great. Welcome to the neighborhood, too.”
Stan moved out when he fell in love with Lia’s friend, Sassy. Now there’s a fun couple!
Shawn turns red again and doesn’t seem to be leaving my office. I wonder if he’s waiting to be excused or if he’s already developed a crush on Lia.
He adjusts his glasses and says, “Thank you. It’s a nice neighborhood. After spending the past four years in downtown Richmond at school, I’m looking forward to life in the country.”
Lia is still smiling and adds, “And I showed Fred’s old apartment to a single middle-aged guy. I think he’s going to sign the lease. He’s kind of cute, Molly. You might like him.”
Now Lia looks uncomfortable as she realizes this is a business and not her college dorm. These young people may have more education than I do, but when it comes to life and common sense…
Shawn barks out an awkward laugh and says, “I’m sure Molly isn’t interested in middle-aged men. A woman like you could…anyway, I’ll be getting to work now. Bye, ladies.”
And he runs out the door.
I slump in my chair again. “I was hoping he was crushing on you, not me. I certainly hope that silly boy isn’t going to drool all over me now. I can’t deal with that.”
Lia laughs as my phone buzzes in my purse. It’s Tucker.
“Hey Moll, I dropped the girls off no problem. They told me they need rides to friends’ houses later. Okay if I drop them off?”
Lia is peering at me and says, “What’s the matter?”
I put the phone down on my desk and say, “Oh nothing. Tucker just gave me and the girls a ride this morning, and he’s asking if I want him to cart the girls around some more after school.”
“Wow, that’s awfully nice of him. You trust him, don’t you?”
“Oh yes, of course I trust him with the girls. It’s not that. Did you notice anything on New Year’s Eve?”
“Can you be a little more specific?”
“Never mind. I just thought Tucker was acting a little…odd.”
That’s putting it mildly.
“I didn’t notice, but I think he may be a bit lonely. You’ve known him all his life. It’s okay to let him help you out.”
“I guess you’re right.”
Another text comes through and I let it sit for a moment. Lia has gotten up and says, “Also, I forgot to tell you. I hired a photographer to do a photo shoot with the dolls this afternoon, but I know you have to work at the diner. You don’t need to be here. And I feel confident that Ashley can handle it. Her work is really well regarded.”
“Sounds great, Lia. Thanks so much, sugar. You’re a peach.”
She leaves the office and closes my door.
Finally, a moment’s peace. I just have to work on a few sketches and then I might have time to eat before I get to The Stone’s Throw Diner for the lunch crowd.
Oh, I forgot about my phone, which is buzzing again. I need to reply to Tucker. I’m going to just say thank you and accept this help. I’m being ridiculous.
This text isn’t from Tucker. It’s from an unknown number.
Oh crap, I think it’s that creep I went out with last month. I have since deleted my Tinder app, but not before a few encounters with the less proper men in the area.
“Hey sexy, what’s shakin’? How about me and you do some shakin’ tonight? Get it?”
Dear Lord, I think I’m put off my lunch now. Once I block this jackass, I’ll reply to Tucker.
It’s times like this that I really get mad at Ray all over again. Married at nineteen, single again in my mid-thirties. What a bunch of horse shit.
I pull up Tucker’s text and see that he’s followed it up with a second one. Funny, it’s not like him to be the impatient type.
“Hey, I was also thinking—since the girls will be eating supper at the friends’ houses and all, how about you and I grab something to eat later? Pick you up at the diner at six?”
How does he know when I get off work? Hmm…well, I will be hungry, and I never want to eat where I work. I just hope he isn’t asking me on a date.
No, that’s silly. I’m just thinking that way because of this Internet dating crap, and now the silly new kid here is making googly eyes at me.
Not every single straight man in Applebarrow is putting the moves on Molly Jenkins.
And now I’m referring to myself in the third person. Loony.
I reply to the text.
“Sure, that would be nice, thank you.”
Now I’m acting all formal and weird. This is Tucker—I put band aids on his skinned knees. I helped him and Dawson learn how to swim in the creek.
He writes back with a smiley emoji. Well that’s just the icing on the cake. Tucker Swanson is using emojis. What the hell?
I put the phone back in my desk and open up my doll sketch portfolio. I need to focus on tiny, fake women instead of big, real men.
I know I’m being ridiculous. On New Year’s Eve Tucker probably had too much to drink and was just feeling celebratory and all.
Tucker is just being a friend. Since so many of the neighbors are coupled up, there aren’t as many single people around to hang out with.
And maybe the new guy in Fred’s apartment will be cute. You never know. Fred found love after losing his wife, and he moved into Martha’s house in the village. His apartment could be a good luck charm.
Mine feels cursed ever since Ray left, but I have to get over him. He’s not coming back, and would I even want him to, after all the pain he’s caused?
CHAPTER TWO
“So, what do you think about the new residents moving in?”
We’re in Tucker’s truck on the way home from supper and picking the girls up, and I just told them about the new people moving in.
Magnolia sighs and says, “I wish cute guys would move in. No offense, Tucker, but you’re kind of old.”
Tucker smirks and keeps his eyes on the road. “Yes, I am ancient. And you best remember that any guy who is old enough to have his own apartment is too old for you, little missy.”
Magnolia screws up her face and says, “Whatever. My dad is a lot older than my mom, right, Mom?”
That child is constantly mentioning Ray and it breaks my heart. It also makes me very angry at Ray all over again.
“Yes Honey, but I wasn’t fifteen when I met him.”
I was seventeen but the girls don�
��t know that.
Zinnia pipes in and says, “Well, I think it’s always fascinating to meet new people. Maybe they would all like to be interviewed for my YouTube channel.”
Tucker nods and encourages her, offering her an on the scene interview at Swanson Brothers Auto Repair.
Zinnia pumps her fist and says, “Yes, auto repair is fascinating!”
I smile and glance back at my little girl. She finds everything ‘fascinating’ and always has.
Magnolia, on the other hand, is more like her father, although she shares my artistic talent.
Worrying about my oldest is my other full-time job. It’s no wonder I haven’t had time to meet a decent man since Ray skedaddled.
Tucker pulls the truck into the Pentagon Place parking lot and the girls go running to the front door. They have their own keys since I do leave them alone at times.
However, there is no safer neighborhood, and so many dear friends and neighbors are literally a stone’s throw away.
Haha, just like the name of my employer, The Stone’s Throw Diner.
I look in the back seat to make sure the girls took everything with them. I am forever reminding them of things, but Zinnia’s clarinet is the only thing that could be back there and she’s the responsible one, for sure.
I turn back around, and Tucker’s face is right there. I jump back a little and say, “Okay, the girls got all of their stuff. I’ll be off. Thanks for everything, Tuck. Really, it’s too much.”
“Think nothin’ of it. I got time on my hands.”
He grows quieter and leans in a little closer. Shut the front door! He’s not going to try to kiss me, is he?
“Molly, you work too hard. You need to relax a little more. Good night.”
He leans in and kisses me lightly on the cheek, which stirs all sorts of things in places I forgot I had places, and holy horse feathers….
I jump up and smack my head on the doorframe in my haste to get away from the kissing and the looking and the general ‘smolderiness’.
Yes, I know that’s not a word. Neither is dagnabbit, but if I had a dollar for every time my Meemaw said it…
“Are you okay?” Tucker looks at me with more of the smoldering and I nod my head, even though I am about to start seeing stars from the pain.
“Yes, I’m fine. Good night.”
I slam the truck door and start walking towards my apartment. Then I realize how rude it is to walk away, since Tucker lives next door to me.
Shoot, all this weirdness is making me forget my basic manners. And I look like a flustered little twit head. Tucker must be smirking up a storm inside—teasin’ his old babysitter like this.
He really must be bored and lonely. It can’t be any more than that.
I pause and he slowly emerges from his truck. “You don’t have to wait for me, Moll. I’m gonna have my last smoke. See, it’s the last one in the pack. I’m goin’ on the patch tonight. I don’t care if I have to wear a patch on my arm, my leg, my ass—I’m quittin’.”
“That’s very good. Glad to hear it. Good night.”
“Oh, and Molly…”
I turn around again. “Yes?”
“I will take the girls to school tomorrow and every day, until you get your schedule worked out. No arguments. It’s right on my way to the shop. And if the friends’ mamas are okay with it, I’ll take your afternoon carpool shifts.”
“Oh Tucker, I can’t—”
“Zip it, woman. Now get inside before those girls kill each other over the last cookie in the jar.”
He winks and I just smile. I can’t keep thanking him or arguing with him, without looking pathetic.
I am also freezing cold. I hate winter so much. It’s like the ugly stepmother of seasons.
Shoot, I just realize I could end up as somebody’s stepmother someday, but with my luck I’ll just be Cinderella.
Wait a minute, that little bitch got a prince. But fat chance I’ll get a fairy godmother any time soon.
I open my door and shut it with my butt. “Girls, it’s gettin’ late now. Make sure all your homework is done and wash up for bed.”
I don’t hear any responses, so they are probably already locked in their separate rooms, wearing headphones or texting the friends they just left.
I throw my bag on the sofa and plop my weary body down next to it.
I don’t know how much longer I can keep up this pace. I should look at Tucker as a guardian angel, instead of a…how am I looking at him, exactly?
He picked me up at the diner when I got off my shift. Luckily Lia was able to drop me off on her way home from the plant on her way to lunch with Logan...conveniently at the Stone’s Throw.
I changed back into my normal clothes and Tucker took me to the cute little Italian place on the other side of town.
Lia, bless her heart, got food from there for the very first residents’ meeting she hosted. She wanted to trick us into thinking she made the dishes using her Granana’s recipes, and most of us couldn’t even tell.
However even though the DeLuca’s turn up their noses at the country Italian food, I still think it’s good. Give me a big ole’ plate of spaghetti any day.
The whole time we were there, I kept telling myself that this is just little Tucker Swanson. He’s five years younger and I’ll always think of him as that obnoxious little boy in the neighborhood.
Except now he’s a man who seems very interested in my life all of a sudden.
He asked me about the girls and how I’m managing their schedules on my own, now that I’m working on getting Molly’s Dollies off the ground.
I told him about the carpool, and Zinnia’s band practice and music lessons. I thought it was about the most boring conversation and would certainly kill any possible romantic stirrings that could be popping up.
But the more I talked, the more Tucker seemed to be enchanted by my every word. I swear, if I believed in magic, I would think he drank a love potion the night of the New Year’s Eve party, and it still hasn’t worn off.
Tucker assured me that he wanted to help me out, and that he has lots of time on his hands.
I suppose that is true, but I would think an attractive single man with his own business and a brother-free apartment would be interested in spending his time with an array of beauties, and not his old babysitter and her argumentative teens.
I decided to try to relax and enjoy my spaghetti and garlic bread, and the familiar company of an old friend.
I didn’t say I am not in denial sometimes. I am the queen of it. Just call me Cleopatra.
I switched up the conversation midway between the spaghetti and the gelato (Italian for yummo!) and asked Tucker how he’s doing.
My Meemaw taught me to think of others, and I don’t wanna go becoming one of those self-centered bitches, just because I’m a business owner now. I do miss my grandmother’s wisdom. She was so much easier to talk to than Mama.
“I’m doin’ okay. I can’t say it’s not nice havin’ the place to myself. Not like we couldn’t have gotten separate places years ago, but it just seemed like the smart thing to do financially. Mama taught us to save for a rainy day.”
Yeah, I bet the Swanson boys have a bunch of loot saved. They never go anywhere and all they do is smoke, drink beer, and work at their shop.
“I’m sure. Dawson is a sweetie, but he can be a little…”
“Annoying?” His eyes twinkle and I know he loves his little brother. But Dawson can be a silly boy. He knows what he knows, but let’s just say there’s a lot of learning he has avoided in his twenty-eight years. Thank the Lord for Emma in his life. That girl has some sense in her.
“Well, we all think our little siblings are annoying, right? You remember what my brothers were like, and just ask Magnolia how she feels about it.”
I could see Tucker wasn’t going to give me some boo-hoo sob story about how hard and lonely his life has become, and I certainly wasn’t going to make him feel bad by suggesting it.
It’s none of my business, anyway.
“So how much of that Internet datin’ have you been doin’? Any serious prospects? Maybe the new guy movin’ in will be your kind of man.”
This type of comment proved to me that he’s just teasing me. But I still felt weird talking to Tucker about my dating life. And if he asked about my sex life, I would have gotten quite hot under the collar. And other places.
“I really don’t have time, and so far I haven’t met a man worth the time, if I’m bein’ honest. But it’s okay. I’ve got a lot on my plate right now. How ‘bout you? You must meet lots of women in your business, fawning all over you while you tell them what’s wrong with their cars, lookin’ all greasy and…well, you know what I mean. Some women like that type.”
Again, I was getting all awkward and stupid over a boy I caught putting frogs in his mama’s bed.
“Yep, I do just fine with the ladies, but I haven’t had a special one in a long time. I’m no monk, mind you, but now I think I’m gonna save myself for the woman I’m going to marry.”
I spit my drink onto the table. Good thing I’m trying to increase my water intake. I would hate to have spit a colored liquid all over my plate.
Tucker calmly took his napkin and dabbed at the table and then leaned forward and gently pressed the cloth to my lips and my chest.
Dear sweet baby Jesus, what was this man doing? I hope the new apartment manager will be a very hot young woman. This boy needs a real distraction.
Or maybe I’m the one who needs something. He could just be wiping water off the old lady’s boobs.
“Is it really that shocking that I’d get serious about my life, Moll? I’ll be thirty soon, you know?”
I took a deep breath and decided to ask him how he planned on spending the big day.
“I don’t know. Maybe I’ll find a special lady to spend it with.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. I wasn’t sure if he wants me to help him find a special lady or he thinks I’m a special lady. That dance at the New Year’s Eve party a couple of weeks ago was…I don’t know…a little more special than is probably good.
“What do ya think, Molly Mae?”
My full name snapped me out of my confusion, and I said, “I’m sorry, Tucker. I’m just so darn tuckered out. Haha…I used your name there. Did you notice how I…did that?” My voice lowered at the end because he leaned in and covered my little hand with his big one, a bit rough from working hard.
Something Molly Can't See Page 2
