“Are you all right?” Dean asked, reaching across the table and putting a hand on her arm.
It took her a second to respond. “What?”
“You look like you had a chill, are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“It is a shame—the clinic, I mean.” Dean drew back and sipped his coffee. Then he said, as if musing to himself, “Seems like a lot of bad news out of Boston recently.”
“I beg your pardon?”
He was as careful not to allow her to look into his eyes. Lifting a hand, as if to flip the thought away, he said, “Nothing . . . .” He sighed. “Well, not nothing—that sounded disrespectful.” He then concentrated on slowly turning his cup on the table.
At first he thought she wasn’t going to take the bait; he let the melancholy silence do the prompting for him.
Finally she asked, “Is it something you want to talk about?”
Advance carefully. He’d pushed too hard a few minutes ago; he didn’t want to screw this up again. In order to appear reluctant, he scrubbed his hand over his face and blew out a breath.
Looking at her he said, “Someone I knew was killed in Boston not long ago.”
Molly’s eyes immediately dodged his and focused on the baby. “Oh . . . that’s terrible.” She said it softly, with a slight tremor in her voice.
He sat there for a long moment, fiddling with his fork, allowing the maximum reaction from her. When it became apparent she wasn’t going to say more, he said, “Yeah. Terrible.”
She quickly burped Nicholas again, then set him in his baby seat. “I’d really better get going. I’m in the process of looking for a sitter.”
“I appreciate you keeping me company.”
“My pleasure.” She slipped on her coat and picked up the baby. “Good luck on your article.”
He picked up his coffee again. “Thanks. You too, on finding a sitter.”
“And,” she hesitated, “I’m sorry about your friend.” Then she hurried away.
Molly left the lingering scent of her perfume and baby formula. It was an exceptionally feminine mixture. But Dean made himself ignore it. Molly had not asked one question about his “friend” who was killed in Boston. Not how the person died, or if they’d been close. What kind of person can ignore basic human curiosity like that?
He knew what kind—one who had something to hide.
Chapter 10
As Molly was bouncing off the doorjamb, trying to get herself, Nicholas and all of his stuff hauled inside in one trip, the telephone rang. She dropped the diaper bag on the floor, set down the pumpkin seat, leapt across the kitchen and grabbed the receiver on the fifth ring.
“Hello?”
“Are you all right?” Lily asked. “You sound funny.”
Molly sucked in a deep breath. “I was just walking in the door.” She couldn’t squash the little dance of satisfaction her pride was doing because Lily had called first. It surprised Molly how quickly a person slipped into childish habits once back in the family fold. What shouldn’t have surprised her was the fact that Lily made the call; she never did like to leave things at odds.
“We’re going to the spaghetti supper at the high school tonight,” Lily said. “You and Nicholas want to come?” She didn’t pause long enough for an answer. “It’s a fundraiser for the basketball team.”
“Oh, I don’t know. I’ve been out all day. I’m really bushed.” And she didn’t want to sit through a meal in a crowded room wondering who was looking at her and forcing strained conversation. Lily was offering the olive branch, but Molly knew her sister wouldn’t rest until she understood Molly’s motives for her actions concerning Nicholas. Of course, that could never be. So it was going to be a long game of cat and mouse.
“You have to eat. This’ll save you making a mess in the kitchen.”
Molly had no intention of messing up her kitchen. Dinner was going to be a bowl of Frosted Mini-Wheats.
Lily went on, “Besides, I want to see you.” Her voice dropped a little lower. “I don’t like us being upset with one another.”
“I don’t either.”
“Then you’ll come?”
Molly felt a little guilty that Nicholas had been in his seat nearly all day. She looked at him now, dozing where she’d left him by the door. It certainly didn’t appear to make any difference to him. “On one condition: no talk about Nicholas’s father.”
Lily was quiet for a second. Molly could almost see her sister weighing the answer. Lily never broke her word, therefore she was always careful about giving it. “All right. Tonight is just for fun. You could probably use a little.”
Fun? Molly hardly remembered the definition of the word. She said, “What time?”
“Six. We’ll come by and pick you up.”
“I’ll just meet you there. It’ll be easier than moving the car seat.”
“Okay. Don’t buy a ticket. I already have one for you,” Lily said cheerfully. “See you.”
“Bye.” Molly held the receiver in front of her and looked at it for a second before she hung it up. That sure I’d buckle under, huh?
“Really, Michaeline, I just don’t understand you!”
Mickey rolled over on her bed and looked toward her mother, standing in the doorway. “What?” What could she have possibly done to get her mother’s panties in a bunch? She’d emptied the dishwasher, done her own laundry, cleaned the cat’s litter box; she’d even been nice to her ratty-assed brother. For the past two hours, she’d been in her room reading.
“I told you yesterday,” Mother put her hand on her hip, “the basketball team is having a big spaghetti dinner as a fundraiser tonight.”
“I know. I’m not going.”
“It’s the very least you can do to support your brother! With your father unavailable, Andrew needs all of the family support we can give him.”
Mom always referred to Dad as being “unavailable.” Good God, everybody in town knew Dad was in jail. And Mom hadn’t been too concerned about showing Dad any kind of support. Both Mickey and Drew had been strictly forbidden to have any communication with him. Obviously family support had very little to do with being family.
“The place will be packed, no one will even know if I’m there,” Mickey said. Least of all Drew, who treats me like a leper at school. So afraid my uncool will rub off on him. Why on earth did her mom always badger her into these things? Wouldn’t they all be better off if she just stayed home?
“I’ll know.” Karen crossed her arms over her chest, a sure sign that Mickey wasn’t going to win this one. “Besides, before you know it, high school will be over—and what will you have to show for it?”
“A diploma.”
Karen gave an exasperated grumble. “You know that’s not what I meant. Really, I thought when you took up with that Holt boy, things were going to turn around. He’s the most popular boy in school.”
Mickey started to ask her mom how she knew who was popular and who wasn’t in the junior class at Glens Crossing High, but decided not to bother. If the fact that Riley Holt was rich could outweigh the fact that he’d been the one to insure that her dad was “unavailable,” Mickey doubted anything else would matter.
Karen went on, “But you managed to run him off, just like you have everybody else. My high school friends and I still do things together. I hate it that you’re missing out.”
Mickey huffed and flopped back on her bed. It just burned her when her mom started throwing Riley Holt in her face. She’d thought they were friends, too. How wrong she’d been.
Mickey thought back. She could just about pinpoint the day that Riley Holt began to treat her like a persona non grata. Their friendship had been formed Riley’s first summer here in Glens Crossing—before he knew anyone else, before he understood where Mickey ranked in the social pecking order. Back then, it really hadn’t seemed to matter. Riley had been in trouble a lot back then; his parents had just gotten divorced and his dad was in rehab. But he had been a good f
riend to her. He’d even put himself at risk to have her dad arrested for dealing. Riley never actually admitted it to her, but she knew he’d done it because of the bruises her dad had left on her.
They’d managed to stay friends through their freshman year in high school, even though he was quickly becoming involved in a world from which Mickey had been excluded. Then, the beginning of sophomore year, Codi Craig decided she wanted Riley to be her boyfriend. Mickey could see why; Codi had already gone through every cool guy in school. She was running out of targets.
At first it seemed like Mickey and Riley’s friendship would survive. But soon it became apparent that Codi wasn’t going to let that happen. Even so, Codi was too smart to demand Riley drop Mickey. She didn’t have that kind of hold on him—yet. It had been slow work, but she finally achieved her goal; Mickey and Riley’s friendship eroded away one tiny grain at a time.
The whole thing just confirmed that Mickey had been right in her original theory: until she got out of this town, life was going to suck.
Her mother came into Mickey’s bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed. Mickey could almost recite verbatim what she was about to say.
Mother didn’t disappoint. “I’m just thinking about your happiness.” She petted Mickey’s head. “I don’t want you to be sorry you missed this wonderful time in your life.”
“I’m not missing it—I’m living my life, just the way I want to.”
Karen got up, the sympathy gone from her voice when she said, “Well, I can’t make friends for you, but I can insist you be there for your brother. Get up and get ready.” Then she walked out of the room without looking back.
If her mom was so worried about her happiness, why did she keep making her do things that made her feel like an outcast? She was perfectly happy to stay home. None of her school friends would be at the dinner. They were even more nerdy than her. So, she’d sit by herself, while her mother ran around like a bee in a flower garden, chatting with all of her friends. Karen Kimball and Codi Craig—same person, different generations. Even the alliteration in their names matched. How much happier would Mother be if Codi was her daughter?
Mickey got up and went to the bathroom to brush her teeth and comb her hair, counting the long string of months until she could leave for college.
When Molly entered the high school, she was struck by how little had changed in her near eleven-year absence. It even smelled the same: a mix of worn textbooks, gym socks, rubber erasers, and floor wax. She moved through the halls toward the cafeteria. The glass trophy case by the gymnasium appeared slightly more crowded than she remembered. However, the state runner-up trophy the football team had earned her brother Luke’s senior year remained the center focal point. Its presence gave her a sense of continuity, stability. She glanced down a hall at her old locker, which had had generations of tape and stickers peeled off and had been painted so often, she could see the thick roughness of the finish from here.
“Better take a look, Nicholas, one day you’re going to be walking these hallowed halls.”
Just saying that crystallized her future before her. Never in a million years had she dreamed she’d be moving back to this town. But then, she’d had no way of knowing Sarah was going to come into her life—and upend it so unexpectedly and so tragically.
In pondering her future, standing in the halls that housed her teenage years, she wondered briefly if she would end up the stodgy old town doctor, unmarried, living solely for her work and the occasional visit from her only child.
Now that was quite the pessimistic leap. Shaking such dismal thoughts from her head, she moved on.
She passed an older couple who looked familiar—Molly thought the husband used to work at Duckwall Hardware. Their eyes lingered on the pumpkin seat and avoided her own. Molly was pretty sure she heard the woman say, “Such a shame,” after they passed.
Molly thought about turning around and walking back out to her car. She didn’t have to put herself on display tonight; she had plenty of food in the house. Granted, her dinner at Papa’s hadn’t been disturbed by pointing fingers and hissing gossip—but this was in the high school. It was easy to slip into the cliquish, judgmental mindset by just walking in the door.
It turned out to be too late to turn around. Lily, Clay, and Riley were waiting for her outside the cafeteria. Lily waved. Molly had to admit, it was a nice sight, Lily and her little family—one that counteracted her near slide back into adolescence that the building had induced. Seeing them gave her hope that happy endings sometimes do happen. Although, she thought, Peter, Lily’s ex-husband, probably wouldn’t agree. Did it always have to be that way—for one person to achieve happiness, another had to suffer?
It was certainly turning out that way in her case. Here she was, a woman most likely destined to be barren, but through a cruel twist of circumstance had been given the chance to be a mother. The cost of that chance was almost too much to contemplate. Each and every day she said a prayer for Sarah Morgan—and she hoped that Sarah knew her child was not only safe, but loved.
Her maudlin thoughts threatened to provoke tears. Tears she wouldn’t be able to explain to her sister. So she forced a smile and tried to think of only the happiness this child brought with each dawning day.
Lily came forward and gave Molly a quick hug. “I’m so glad to see you.”
Molly hugged her with her free arm. “Me too.”
Clay stood a couple of feet away, looking as if he didn’t know if he should come forward or not. There was a guarded look in his eye that Molly didn’t recall seeing before—no doubt because she’d upset Lily again. He was fiercely protective of Lily.
“Hello, Clay.” She took the bull by the horns and stepped over to him and gave him a sisterly hug. As she did, she noticed Riley shifting slightly farther away. “Relax, buddy, I wouldn’t do that to you.”
Riley shifted from foot to foot, looking at the floor. “I wasn’t worried.”
“Liar.” Molly laughed. “But don’t think you’re safe forever. I’ll collect my hug in private.”
Clay said, “Riley, why don’t you take the baby seat for Aunt Molly?”
Riley’s horrified gaze darted between the cafeteria and the baby.
Molly almost saved him by saying she’d rather carry Nicholas. But the truth was that after lugging the seat, baby, and diaper bag around all day, her back was killing her. She held out the seat. “Thanks so much.” Then she added under her breath, “Trust me, babies are chick magnets. You’ll see.”
Riley didn’t look convinced as he fell into step with them and entered the cafeteria. They found a table that had seats available and put their coats on the chairs. Riley set the pumpkin seat on the table and before he could shove his hands in his jean pockets, two smiling teenage girls showed up.
One gasped, then said, “Ohhhhh, he’s sooo little.”
While the other reached for the baby’s fingers. “He’s adorable.” Then she looked at Riley with a question in her eyes. “It is a boy, right? I was just guessing from the blue blanket.”
“Uh, yeah.” Then Riley seemed to get his feet back under him. “His name is Nicholas. He’s my cousin.”
While the girls fussed over the baby, Riley turned to Molly and mouthed, “Seniors.” Then he grinned and wiggled his eyebrows.
She responded with a knowing tilt of the head.
Glancing around the room, she realized the senior girls weren’t the only ones who appeared interested in their arrival. She actually caught one pair of ladies pointing as they ducked their heads together in gossip. Well, the sooner everyone got discussing Molly’s unwed status out of their systems, the sooner she’d begin to blend into this town.
A horrible thought struck her. What if she never blended in? Would Nicholas grow up with whispers and shunning? Of course not. Stop sounding like Lily. This was the twenty-first century—even in Glens Crossing.
The senior girls moved on and Riley turned to Molly, beaming. “Wow, you were right.”
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br /> “Only thing that works better is a puppy.” Then she said to Lily, “You guys go on and get your food, then I’ll go.”
Riley piped up. “I’ll stay with him. You go on with Mom.”
Molly felt a stab of fear. Her first reaction was that there was no way she was leaving Nicholas in this very public place. Then she glanced down the long table and saw Sheriff Clyde with his large family. She was only going to be forty feet away herself. How much safer could it be?
Lily’s hand rested on Molly’s arm. “He’ll be fine.”
Molly forced her feet to move toward the food line. Clay stopped halfway there to chat with someone, but Molly kept going. If Lily wanted to wait for Clay, fine. But Molly was getting her food and heading back to the table without a lot of unnecessary chitchat. Besides, being in this crowd reignited that defensiveness that had sprouted earlier in the hallway. She had in mind keeping a low profile.
“Going to a fire?” Lily asked laughingly from behind.
“I just want Riley to be able to get his food, he’s probably starved,” she said without slowing her pace. She didn’t look in her sister’s eyes again until they were back at the table.
As Lily sat down across from her, she said, “See, everyone survived.” Then to Riley she said, “If you hurry, you can catch Clay and get in line with him.”
“See—” Molly cast Lily a pointed look and mimicked her mocking tone “—if we’d stopped with Clay, we’d still be standing there.”
Lily had the graciousness to laugh. “Right you are.”
Riley got up. Both women watched him walk toward Clay.
Molly said, “I don’t see much of Peter in him. Genetics are funny.” She knew there’d come a day when people said the same about Nicholas.
Lily didn’t say anything. When Molly looked back at her, Lily’s gaze was fixed on Riley and Clay walking together. Something unreadable was on her face; she seemed a thousand miles away.
Promises to Keep Page 15
