Letters to Molly: Maysen Jar Series - Book 2

by Devney Perry

  And now Beluga was gone too.

  It was for the best. That’s what I’d been reminding myself these past six years. I was happier now than I’d been during the last year of my marriage. So was Finn. So were the kids.

  It was for the best.

  I smiled again at the Jeep, then took the sidewalk to the front porch. My lawn was lush and green and long. Ideally, it would get mowed today but I doubted I’d have the time, so the chore was added to my endless weekend to-do list. It was a good thing tomorrow was Friday so I couldn’t tack on much more.

  As soon as Kali turned twelve, Finn had promised to teach her how to mow lawns for extra cash. She was chomping at the bit. So was I. Mowing was one duty I couldn’t wait to delegate to the kids. I’d gladly clean and cook and wash clothes for a hundred years if it meant never walking behind my red Craftsman again.

  I’d done enough mowing for a lifetime.

  After Finn had graduated from college, he’d gone to work at a local landscaping company, but his dream had always been to open his own. The year we married, he took the leap and started his business. Our business.

  During Alcott Landscaping’s first two seasons, I was the number-one lawn mower. While Finn did all things landscaping, from bids to design to the actual planting, sodding and whatever else that had to be done, I managed the mowing service. It was the side of the business that kept us in SpaghettiOs and corn dogs until Finn built up his reputation. Three college kids and I mowed hundreds of lawns, until finally I was able to step back from the mowing completely and run the office.

  When we had Kali, I took a further step back and worked part-time. Once Max arrived, it made sense for me to stay home entirely. Finn took over all aspects of managing Alcott and I phased myself out.

  The only lawn I mowed these days was my own. Even the smell of fresh-cut grass and the prospect of a tan couldn’t get me excited for that chore.

  I went inside and dropped my purse on the bench in the entryway. I walked around the corner into the kitchen, and as I looked out over the sink into the front yard, I sighed. I needed to mow tonight. It was unavoidable. Spring had been full of dewy mornings and sunny afternoons. If I didn’t do it soon, I’d be facing a jungle.

  Finn and I had bought this house the year Max was born. We’d wanted a nice spacious place in a friendly neighborhood. Alcott had become one of the biggest landscaping companies in the Gallatin Valley, so we’d splurged on a home with every upgrade and the best lot in the cul-de-sac.

  Then Finn had gone crazy on our landscaping. This place had been his test site, the yard where he’d experiment with new shrubs or trees to see how they stood up before using them for clients. There was a fountain in the backyard. There were flower beds within flower beds. It was beautiful. The envy of all my neighbors.

  And a maintenance nightmare.

  Finn had created this intricate spectacle that required me to spend hours edging and trimming. I spent more time weeding than actually enjoying the flowers.

  And I was too frugal to spend my single, working-mom income to hire a gardener or mowing crew. I hadn’t even had professional help when I’d been married to Bozeman’s king of lawn care.

  “I hate my yard.”

  The doorbell rang, pulling me away from the window. I hurried to the front door. My neighbor Gavin waved through the glass.

  “Hey.” I opened the door with a smile.

  “Howdy. I saw you pull up in your new rig. Had to come over and check it out.”

  “Isn’t it fun?” I stepped outside, joining him on the wide, covered porch that wrapped around my entire house.

  “Pretty snazzy car, Molly.” Gavin tucked his hands in his cargo shorts as he walked down the porch steps and inspected the grass. “Want me to mow for you?”

  I really wanted to say yes. “No, that’s okay. Thanks though.”

  “You sure? I wouldn’t mind.”

  “I’m sure. It’s the only way I keep a tan.”

  Gavin had offered to mow my lawn a dozen times since he’d moved in next door two summers ago, but I’d never accepted. Mostly because it was such a chore. I wanted to stay in his good graces in case I ever needed a neighborly favor.

  But the other reason I declined his help was because Gavin didn’t have a knack for mowing. I grimaced at the bald spots cut into his grass and the random piles of mulch. Two years and he still hadn’t figured out the right blade height settings.

  I might not like mowing, but I was good at it. Better than most.

  “Okay. Well, it’s a standing offer.” Gavin flashed me a grin and my heart sped up a beat.

  He was handsome, with a trim goatee and silver flecks in his brown hair. He was a single dad who worked from home, five years older than my thirty-five. His office faced mine, and on the rare occasion I was sitting at my desk while he was at his, he’d wave.

  We’d been spending more time with each other this spring. His twin girls were two years older than Kali, but even with the age difference, everyone got along. While the kids were playing together at the park or jumping on his trampoline, Gavin and I hung out. Our Friday-night pizza dinners were becoming a thing.

  “How’s work going today?” I asked as we strolled to my Jeep.

  “Good. I’m taking a break for a few hours. My ex has the girls for the rest of the week and weekend. It’s so quiet when they’re gone that I’ll probably work through dinner.”

  I knew exactly how lonely it was when your kids were at their other home. I opened my mouth to invite him over for dinner with us but stopped when a familiar navy truck came rolling down the street.

  Max’s window behind Finn’s driver’s seat was open. His head was sticking out, his mouth flapping open, as he stared at the Jeep.

  Gavin chuckled. “Somebody’s going to be excited.”

  “I’d better grab the keys. He’s going to want to go for a ride.”

  I sprinted for the house with a huge smile, bursting through the honey-oak front door and swiping my purse from the bench. When I hurried outside, Finn was pulling into the driveway beside the Jeep, leaving space for me to back out.

  “Mom!” Max screamed from the truck as he scrambled to get his seat belt undone. “What? Is that— What?”

  I laughed, rejoining Gavin in the driveway.

  Kali popped open her door and hopped out, her brown curls bouncing as she landed. “Mom, is this ours?”

  “It is.”

  “No. Way.” Her eyes were huge as she took a step for the Jeep. “I just—this—no way.”

  “Yes way. Surprise.”

  “Wow.” She ran her fingers through her hair. It hung nearly to her waist these days, about six inches shorter than mine. I’d been trying to get her to trim it but she refused. She said her curls set her apart in a school where most girls were doing undercuts or dying their hair shades of blue or pink.

  “Ahhh!” Max ran around Finn’s truck, jumping up and down as he pointed at the Jeep. “This is so cool. Can we take it for a drive? Right now? Please? Let’s go.”

  “In a sec.” I waved at Finn, the last to emerge from his truck. “Hi.”

  “Nice wheels, Molly.” He pushed his aviators into his thick, rust-colored hair as he rounded the hood of his truck. “No more Beluga, huh?”

  “No more Beluga.”

  His blue eyes found mine, and they flashed with sadness for a moment.

  I wasn’t sure what to say. Somewhere on the road from our first cheeseburger to signing the divorce papers, we’d forgotten how to confide in one another.

  It was all ancient history now. I was happily single. Finn had been dating other women for years. Like Beluga, some things weren’t meant to last forever.

  “Hey, Gavin.” Finn walked up to us, his hand extended.

  “Finn.” Gavin returned the handshake, then looked over at me. “I’ll get out of your hair. I’m around this weekend if you change your mind about the lawn.”

  “Thanks.” I waved at him as he walked across my yard to his
own.

  “What about the lawn?” Finn asked when he was out of earshot.

  “Oh, nothing. He just offered to mow it for me.”

  Finn frowned. “Not an option. Look at his yard. He can’t figure out how to adjust his blades or walk in a straight line. You mow ten times better than that guy.”

  “At least he offered to save me the headache.”

  “Headache? I thought you liked mowing.”

  “Once upon a time.” When my life had been a fairy tale. Before the glass slippers had splintered.

  “Mom, let’s go.” Max was racing circles around the Jeep. His wide smile showed the two teeth he was missing at the moment. He needed a haircut because it was constantly falling in his eyes, but I hated cutting his hair. I had ever since he was a baby.

  It was a mixture of Finn’s and mine. Not quite red, but not my brown either. It wasn’t as curly as Kali’s—there was only a slight wave—and it had the same texture as Finn’s thick, silky strands. Whenever I cut it, he looked so much older.

  “I’m hungry,” he shouted, still running.

  “When is he not?” I muttered. “He’s growing like a weed.”

  Finn nodded. “I was thinking the same thing the other day. He’ll stay here a few nights and then I hardly recognize him when it’s my turn.”

  Max was one of the tallest kids on his youth basketball team, and his frame actually filled out his peewee football pads. There was no doubt about it, he’d grow up to have Finn’s broad shoulders and chest. He’d be tall like Finn too.

  Max’s only trait that was one hundred percent mine was his eyes. Both he and Kali had my brown eyes.

  Finn’s deep blue irises were his and his alone.

  “Mom,” Max huffed, opening the back door. “Let’s go.”

  “Okay, okay. Let’s unload your stuff from the truck first so Dad doesn’t have to wait around for us.”

  “No, that’s okay.” Finn jerked his chin to the Jeep. “You guys go. I’ll unload.”

  “All right. Thanks. I’ll shoot you a text about drop-off on Monday.”

  “Sounds good.”

  I’d nodded good-bye and had taken three steps for the Jeep when Finn called, “Molly?”

  I turned. “Yeah?”

  He smiled. “You always wanted a Jeep. I’m glad you have one.”

  “Me too.” I waved, not letting my gaze linger on my ex-husband for too long.

  Finn was wearing his normal summer attire of a navy Alcott Landscaping polo, jeans and gray tennis shoes. His clothes used to be covered in grass stains, his hands marred with dirt. He’d come home to me smelling like sweat and sunshine and we’d go at one another without hesitation.

  Those days were just memories now. Still, he was dangerously handsome, standing with his legs planted wide underneath the bright May sky. It was a good thing the kids and I were driving away. Too much time with Finn and my mind would start to replay those old scenes, the ones where his lips felt so soft against mine.

  “Ready?” I focused on the kids, who were jumping into the car. When we were all loaded and the windows rolled down, I reversed out of the driveway, giving Finn one last wave before driving away.

  I caught his wave in the mirror as he stood in the yard that had once been ours.

  We’d been divorced for six years and three months, and damn it, Finn still looked like he belonged in that yard. Like Beluga, that house was an artifact that should probably have been buried too. I wouldn’t move the kids, so it was one burial that would wait until they were in college.

  “Well? What do you guys think?” I asked them.

  “This is so much cooler than the van,” Max yelled out his open window behind me.

  I glanced over my shoulder to find Kali’s smile waiting. “It’s cool, Mom.”

  Score. “It sure is.”

  “Let’s get pizza,” Max yelled. The kid didn’t know any other volume besides loud.

  I laughed and yelled too. “Pizza, here we come.”

  Forty-five minutes later, the sound of a lawn mower preceded us as we turned into the cul-de-sac.

  “Oh, great.” I really hoped Gavin hadn’t decided to do me a favor and mow my lawn. Sure enough, as we got closer, freshly cut swaths in my lawn greeted me. But it wasn’t Gavin mowing.

  “Dad’s still here.” Kali pointed to Finn’s truck.

  I blinked, certain I’d pulled onto the wrong street. Finn hadn’t mowed that lawn in years, even when we’d been married. Back then, work had demanded his full attention and he’d get home past dark most nights in the summer.

  The mowing duty had always fallen to me.

  But here he was, pushing my red mower in diagonal stripes across the grass. The Weed Eater was propped up against the garage door next to a pile of extension cords.

  “What’s he doing?”

  “Uh, mowing the lawn.” Max laughed. “Duh.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Thanks for clarifying, Max.”

  “Ask a stupid question, get a stu—”

  “Don’t say stupid.” I was glad he couldn’t see my smile from behind me.

  My son was a smart-ass. He dished out comebacks faster and wittier than most adults. Teasing Finn and me was one of his greatest pleasures. The only person he was gentle with was Kali.

  She didn’t have his thick skin. Maybe it was because she was getting into those difficult teen years. Maybe it was because the divorce had been so hard on her. Whatever the reason, Kali was more sensitive these days. And I’d always been grateful that Max loved his big sister so much that he went out of his way to protect her soft heart.

  “Can you guys take the pizza inside?” I asked Max and Kali as I parked in the garage.

  “Sure, Mom,” my girl volunteered.

  “Thanks.” I had to find out what their father was still doing here.

  As they carried the boxes inside, I walked out front to find Finn.

  His shoes were coated with grass clippings, ruined for anything fancier than manual labor now. He spun the mower around, coming in my direction. When he reached the end of that row, he stopped the machine, the noise settling.

  “What are—”

  “Hey, Dad.” Max appeared at my side, a stolen breadstick in one hand and a huge bite in his cheeks. Kali was right behind him.

  “Hey, guys. How was the ride?”

  Max swallowed. “Sweet. Kali and I have our own screens so we don’t have to watch the same thing.”

  Finn chuckled. “Did you like it, Kali?”

  “Oh, yeah. Mom has the coolest car of any of my friends now.”

  I smiled. Mission accomplished. “Will you guys go inside and set the table, please?”

  Their feet stomped up the porch steps before they burst through the door, not bothering to shut it behind them.

  “You didn’t have to do this,” I told Finn.

  He shrugged. “No big deal.”

  Who was this stranger? Well, whoever the Finn imposter was, I at least owed him dinner. “We got pizza. You’re welcome to stay.”

  “That’d be great. I’ll finish up out here and hit the back. Then I’ll be in. You guys go ahead. Don’t wait for me.”

  “If you want to just do the front, I can handle the back. Really.”

  “Molly, it’s fine.” His voice was soft, smooth like the spring breeze. “I had nothing to do tonight but go home to an empty house.”

  “Okay.” My shoulders relaxed. I wasn’t putting him out, and his help was much appreciated.

  I left him to it, walking over to the porch steps and glancing over my shoulder as Finn tugged the pull cord and brought the mower’s engine to life.

  He’d dropped the kids’ backpacks inside the door. I carried them down the hallway, leaving them at the base of the stairs before ducking into the dining room positioned off the kitchen.

  “Good job, guys.” Max was setting out glasses while Kali placed napkins. They must have assumed Finn was staying, because there were four plates already set.

 
; It was nice to see the dining room table full. Having it empty three or four nights a week when the kids stayed at Finn’s house was depressing. So much so, I usually ate standing in the kitchen or sitting on the living room couch. Anywhere but the dining room table, where the five empty seats made me feel alone.

  “Oh, shoot.” I’d forgotten all about Gavin eating alone and my earlier plan to invite him over.

  “What?” Kali asked.

  “Never mind.” With Finn here, it would be too awkward to have Gavin come over. I could stop next door and invite him to a different meal later in the week after I’d caught up with the kids.

  I opened pizza boxes and we each took our seats to dive in. When Max reached for his sixth piece, I swatted his hand away. “Save some for your dad. If he doesn’t eat it all, you can have the rest.”

  “Okay.” He patted his belly. “I’m kinda full anyway. Do I have to eat the crusts?”

  “No.” Though in an hour, he’d be hungry again.

  “Can I go to my room?”

  “Sure.” I winked. “Please take your backpack with you and get it unpacked.”

  “Thanks, Mom.” He stood from the table, taking his plate with him to the sink. Then he bolted for the stairs.

  “That kid doesn’t walk anywhere, does he?”

  Kali giggled. “Can I go too?”

  “Sure, sweetheart. Do you have any homework?”

  She shook her head as she stood, also clearing her plate. “No.”

  I stayed in my chair, watching as she put her plate and Max’s into the dishwasher. She’d always been my helper. I knew she helped at Finn’s place too.

  “I’m glad you’re home.”

  “Me too.” She smiled and came over for a tight hug, then she disappeared upstairs to her room.

  I cleared my own plate just as the mower’s noise outside stopped. Through the kitchen window, I watched Finn come around the side of the garage and go to his truck. He toed off his grass-stained shoes and tossed them into the back. Then he did the same with his socks, which were green around the ankles. He bent down and swatted at the hems of his jeans, clearing away grass clippings before cuffing them in a tall fold.