Something Molly Can't See

by Carol Maloney Scott

“No, I was reading it when Tucker texted, and then I felt like throwin’ up and it wouldn’t be a good idea to destroy my grandmother’s memories because I’m afraid to go on a date.”

  “Why do old people end up having so many secrets?” Lia peers at Axe and he says, “Don’t look at me. I only kept Allegra’s secret because she was married, and your grandfather’s sexual orientation wasn’t my story to tell. But you know ladies, old people weren’t always old, and we have some past ‘openness’ too.”

  His reference to Tucker’s text both excites and repulses me, since he is now insinuating that Meemaw was getting it on with her high school sweetheart in the fifties. There is no way that’s true. I tell Axe that and he quickly tells me I’m delusional.

  “Love, you are delusional. In every era, people have had sex. Don’t assume anything, but why does it matter? This was before she even met Pee…hahaha…I’m sorry, I mean your grandfather.”

  I sigh and give Axe an exasperated look, but with a smirk. It’s hard to get mad at a guy who is dispensing such good wisdom. “I know you’re right. One day my girls will think the same way about me. But it wasn’t so much that she had saved love notes, it was more the fact that the guy seemed to be alluding to a secret, and the envelope was addressed to somewhere in Maine. I didn’t know my grandmother ever left the south.”

  We speculate on the many reasons that Meemaw may have been out of town in the fifties, and we have no new ideas.

  And I know if ask Mama, she will confiscate all of the boxes and burn them. She would flip if she thought I was suggesting that Meemaw had a real personal life that went against any of Mama’s firmly held beliefs. She has Meemaw on such a high pedestal we have to crane our necks to see her memory.

  I can’t believe how much time has passed and I realize I better get my butt home and figure out what I’m wearing for my, ahem…date…with Tucker.

  Lia and Axe both walk me to the door. Axe says, “Molly, please try not to stress about this date tonight. I’m sure Tucker will be a perfect gentleman…or not, if that’s what you’d prefer.” He wiggles his eyebrows in a mock suggestive fashion and laughs on his way down Lia’s front porch steps.

  I feel my face getting hot, but I don’t care if Lia sees me blushing. This is Tucker Swanson we’re talking about!

  Lia places her hand gently on my arm and says, “He’s right, you know? You know there is something there between you, and maybe it’s time to see where it goes. That’s what you told me when I was trying to convince myself that Logan and I weren’t destined to be together.”

  I smile and squeeze her hand. Lia has grown up so much in the past few months. I think it’s because she’s had so much good guidance from all the residents here at Pentagon Place.

  Now I need to use some of my wisdom on myself. I have to accept that Ray is gone, and that it’s for the best. It’s time for me to donate that book to charity and open a nice, fresh new one with a better cover…and better love scenes…oh my God, I think this is really happening.

  While I’m daydreaming, I realize Lia is still talking. “I’m sorry, sugar, what did you say?”

  “I said if things don’t work out with Tucker, there’s always the new guy in the neighborhood. He finally moved in this morning and he’s cute for an older guy. Except he has an odd pet.”

  She wrinkles her brow and I can’t wait for her to tell me he’s keeping chickens or a monkey in his apartment. That’s the kind of dating pool that awaits an almost middle-aged single mom.

  “What kind of pet does he have?”

  “A parrot. Isn’t that funny? I fought the urge to ask if he’s a pirate. I bet he gets that a lot.”

  I laugh with my young friend and secretly hope he doesn’t bring a pooping, talking bird to our resident parties.

  Although that would surely divert attention from my possible budding romance with the guy whose butt I smacked when he ran into the middle of the street to retrieve his ball, twenty-plus years ago.

  Hmm…best not to bring up any butt smacking memories tonight.

  ***

  “You have to admit it, it’s pretty hilarious. Peepaw? What little boy isn’t going to make fun of that? Your parents practically welcomed the entire young male population of Applebarrow to mock the whole family. And your brothers! Those poor bastards!”

  Tucker shakes his head and I have to say, that is the longest string of words I think I’ve heard him spit out since he told me about the frogs he brought into his bedroom when he was eight years old.

  I really need to stop this memory lane thing if I want to act on my current feelings for my supper date.

  And I think I do now. Yikes!

  I put down my fork and join Tucker in laughing about my parents’ old-fashioned choice of names for our grandparents.

  “Mama and Daddy didn’t know any better. That’s what they called their grandparents and by the time we started gettin’ teased, it was too late to change it. We just tried to never utter that name in public.”

  “I know. Hey, I’m sorry for bein’ such a juvenile idiot. Then, and I guess now, too.”

  He runs his hand through his thick, glossy dark hair and leans in close, lowering his voice.

  “I’m also sorry for texting you about…you know…this.”

  He motions his hand back and forth between us, and I feel a warmth creep over me that is distinctly different than the heat in my face when Axe was teasing me about tonight.

  “It’s okay, you were probably feeling…”

  “Yeah, I was feelin’ pretty scared, to be honest. But don’t tell anyone that. I have a reputation as a brooding tough guy.”

  He smiles again and shifts uncomfortably in his seat. I can tell he is trying to be serious but reverting back to joking is his way of easing his tension.

  I can think of some ways to ease my tension, but I need to pace myself. This is extremely new, and I might be getting way ahead of myself.

  He clears his throat and puts his serious face back on. “But seriously, Molly, when Ray left—”

  “I don’t wanna talk about him.”

  “I know, but just hear me out.” He reaches for my hand and I let his work-worn fingers wrap around mine.

  I glance around for the waitress, and hope she’s bringing the check soon. I’ve barely eaten, and I just lost what was left of my interest in food for the night.

  Good thing the girls are over at Sassy and Stan’s house in town. They are known to play naked Twister but not when they have guests, especially not kids. They are surprisingly trustworthy with the young ones.

  I try to put the thought of naked games of any variety out of my mind and focus on Tucker’s mouth as he tries to pour his heart out.

  He starts his speech again. “When Ray left, I was pissed off for you, and the girls, especially. But as time went on and it looked like he was gone for good, I dared to let my feelings for you come back. And I found out they weren’t just a young boy’s fantasy. You’re a good woman, Molly Mae, and I just want you to give me a chance to show you that I’ve grown up and I can be the man you need.”

  Wow, that was definitely the most words Tucker has ever uttered at one time. He must mean what he says.

  “I don’t know what to say. It’s been a hard year and I’ve had a tough time these past few weeks, since that dance at the New Year’s party, tryin’ to sort out my feelings. I think I have some guilt to work through—about you and Ray…even though he doesn’t deserve it. And I don’t want to mess up a lifelong friendship. No matter what happens, you and Dawson are family to me.”

  He lets go of my hand and sits up straighter. “Is this the part where you tell me you think of me as one of your brothers?”

  “No, that’s not it. Maybe it was for a little while, but I do not think of you that way now.”

  I feel like all eyes are on us in the restaurant, but the truth is most people are in their own little worlds. I see it all the time at the diner. This is as romantic a place as any to lean in close and…<
br />
  Just as I fight with myself over initiating an awkward public display of affection with the most unlikely of men, Tucker moves towards me, slowly at first, and then insistently. He pulls me in for a soft kiss, testing the waters of our newfound relationship boundary.

  I let him in as far as is appropriate in a public place in a very small town. His mouth feels incredible and the light bristling of his stubble on my cheeks both tickles and burns my sensitive skin.

  We break apart and suddenly Tucker is calling for the check, and I am checking in with my sanity one last time before we continue this elsewhere.

  ***

  All the way back to my apartment, I recited, ‘I will not sleep with Tucker Swanson’ over and over again, as his hand rested gently on my leg.

  It’s not that I didn’t want to, I just felt like things were moving too fast. But I knew it was safe to let him in as far as I was willing—Tucker would never hurt me. I trust him completely.

  As we sit on my sofa locked in a lip lock worthy of the steamiest rom coms, I wonder if I ever really trusted Ray.

  What a mood killer that is.

  We come up for air momentarily, and Tucker looks into my eyes and says, “You know I’m gonna stop when you say stop, right?”

  I touch his cheek and say, “Yes, of course. Maybe we should take a little break from all of this…” I smile as I make the same hand gesture between us that Tucker made at the table when he professed his…well not love, but interest. Even though I know everyone says he’s loved me all his life, I can hardly assume that his childhood infatuation for his babysitter has turned into a mature love, just like that.

  He accepts my signal to cool things down and I say, “Would you like a drink? I have wine.”

  He leans back into my sofa and says, “Nah, I like to keep clear-headed when I’m romancin’ a woman…not that I do that very often anymore, but you know what I mean. I could use some water; my tongue is a little dry.”

  “Haha, I wonder why.”

  As I happily saunter into the kitchen to grab us some water (I decide that the clear-headed thing is not a bad idea), I hear Tucker moving around the living room. I glance around the corner and I see him staring at the family photos on the hall table.

  Crap, it’s bad enough I’m thinking of Ray, but now Tucker is staring at all the photos of us smiling on our wedding day, when the girls were babies, and the one or two family vacations we took.

  I finish pouring the water and decide that I refuse to feel bad about leaving those pictures out. The girls would be upset, especially Mags, if I put away the memories of their father.

  Thinking of all of this has dampened my passion a bit. Is this really a good idea? I mean, yes, I am wildly attracted to Tucker, but it’s also been a year since I’ve been with any man like this, and there is no closure with the Ray situation. I don’t think he’s dead, but it would be nice to find him and divorce him.

  Or better yet, ask him where he’s been all this time.

  I am suddenly hungry for food, now that my other hunger bubble has been burst, and I start rooting around in my cabinets for some snacks. I have some cheese and crackers, and I think these grapes are still…what the hell?

  Oh dear sweet baby Jesus, the girls are in the living room? Sassy wouldn’t have brought them home early without letting me know.

  I grab my tray of snacks and head out to the living room to get the scoop, as I try to hurry up and think of an excuse for why I’m entertaining Tucker in our apartment on a Friday night.

  Yikes—at least we hadn’t made it up to the bedroom before my little darlings arrived.

  Huh, now I hear another male voice. Maybe Stan brought them home and Sassy is sick or something?

  I know I am stalling, and I need to just get my butt out there. I really don’t have to explain myself to my children.

  As I hustle into the living room, I say, “Girls, what’s going on? Is Sassy ok…”

  I don’t finish my thought as I drop the tray onto the floor and my heart practically jumps into my throat.

  Tucker looks like he’s seen a ghost and then I see him, too.

  “Mom, look…Daddy’s back!”

  CHAPTER SIX

  “It’s freezing out there. Come inside and sit down. If I didn’t live across the street, I wouldn’t have even opened up on a Saturday in this weather. Oh my God, Molly, you look like you’ve seen a ghost. Or worse. Do I need to kick someone’s ass for you?”

  Angie, my nail technician, ushers me to her manicure chair in her empty shop. I am grateful the cold and impending snow have kept all the other customers at home. What I need to talk to Angie about is unfreakingbelievable!

  I plop down in the chair and shrug off all my winter outerwear in one swoop, letting it fall to the floor.

  It’s clean enough—it’s a nail salon, not a hair salon. I won’t go home with half of Applebarrow’s DNA attached to my winter coat.

  I take in a big lungful of warm air and exhale loudly.

  “Molly, you are scaring the crap out of me. What happened? Are the girls okay?”

  Angie leads me over to the seating area in her shop, accurately sensing that I am here as a friend, and not in need of an emergency manicure in a snowstorm.

  I sigh and begin. “Yes, the girls are okay.” I raise my hand to my mouth to bite my nails and then I remember that doing that in a nail salon is like eating meat on a stick at a vegetarian festival.

  I may as well just spit it all out. I start with the most shocking.

  “Ray is back.”

  Angie’s brown eyes bulge and she puts her hand to her heart. “Holy shit! When did this happen? Where has that asshole been? I mean, how wonderful that he’s returned?”

  She changes her expressions of shock several times as she tries to determine whether my husband’s sudden appearance is good or bad news.

  I don’t blame her—I am trying to figure out the same thing.

  “I’m sorry, sweetie. This is very shocking. I’ll try to zip it and let you tell the story. But I just can’t believe that cousin of mine showed up with no warning. Or was there a warning? I’m sorry, I’ll shut up now.”

  In true Rizzo family fashion, Angie sits on her hands to keep from talking. I could laugh and remember how endearing it was when Ray got excited about something and verbalized it with his big meaty man paws.

  But I’m not feeling so warm and fuzzy right now.

  And yes, Angie is Ray’s cousin. They grew up in New Jersey, and Ray followed Angie down to Virginia when she escaped her parents. He always said it was the best decision of his life to take a chance on rural Virginia because he got to meet me.

  Really, I think he just wanted to see if Angie could introduce him to some hot, naïve country girls…hey wait, I’m talking about myself. Crap.

  “Ray showed up at my apartment last night. The girls brought him home. Well, it’s not his home now. And that’s another insane part of this story.”

  I go on to tell Angie how the girls were staying with Sassy, and she took them into town to get hot chocolate and donuts at their favorite shop, and they ran into their runaway father.

  “Jesus, Moll! What the hell was he doing just walking around Applebarrow like that? Oh my God, has he been here the whole time?” She flinches at her continued question vomit, and zips her mouth shut with her fingers in a silent apology.

  At this rate, Ray will have left town again before I finish this story.

  “So, what happened was the girls begged Sassy to let them go with their father, and Sassy said she really didn’t know what to do. She tried texting me to warn me, but I was otherwise occupied…and I hadn’t been looking at my phone.”

  “What could you be doing that would keep you…oh I know…were you on a date? Even better, were you getting busy…holy shit…don’t tell me Ray walked in on…”

  It’s nice that she at least has the good sense to stop herself. She’s like a self-reprimanding unit.

  “Yes, I actually was on a d
ate. But I can’t tell you with who yet because if I do you will never be able to keep quiet.”

  Her eyes bulge again, and she jumps up. “Okay, we need wine.” She checks the clock on the wall and declares, “It’s almost noon, and in a state of emergency the morning drinking rule does not apply.”

  She twists the cap off a bottle of chilled rose, and a full glass is in front of me before I have a chance to gather my next thought.

  Actually, that’s a dirty lie. My thoughts had strayed back to kissing Tucker on my sofa, and how I was about to make a decision that would have turned out very poorly with my husband and children on their way over to give me heart failure, and the guiltiest conscience imaginable.

  I ignore my wine while Angie takes a big gulp of hers, and waves her hands in the ‘come on, the suspense is killing me’ manner.

  “So, I hadn’t checked my phone, and my daughters decided to bring their dad home. I can’t blame them. But then he explained that he had rented an apartment upon his return because he didn’t expect that Mom would take him back right away. Guess where his apartment is?”

  “No fucking way!! Are you shittin’ me?”

  Angie curses more if she gets freaked out. I can’t even imagine what she will be spewing by the end of this chat.

  “I wish I was. But no, Raymond Rizzo has rented Fred’s old apartment at Pentagon Place. So he’s the ‘hot middle-aged guy’ Lia keeps telling me about.”

  Oh, the irony. I thought I had an alternative to Tucker under my nose, but it’s the same jerk I’ve spent the past year crying over.

  Angie smacks her hand on her leg and says, “How the hell did that happen? Doesn’t Lia know Ray is your husband?”

  “Well, no. She doesn’t. I never talk about Ray, and when I do, I don’t refer to him by his given name.”

  Plenty of other names, but I’ve even stopped that in an effort to get over him and finally let go and move on.

  “And Lia knows me as Molly Jenkins. You know how pissed I was when Ray first ran off and I changed my name back. And Lia has no reason to know that Magnolia and Zinnia are Rizzos. So, I can’t blame her. She was just renting an apartment to a weird guy with a parrot.”