Something Molly Can't See

by Carol Maloney Scott

  Zinnia tucks the puppy in her coat and runs to the house, and I am left staring at my feet in the middle of the courtyard.

  Tucker says, “So how ya been?”

  I swallow a lump the size of Texas and say, “I’m okay. Keepin’ busy. You?”

  I try my best not to look in the direction of Ashley’s place because I don’t want to be a petty ex.

  I just can’t believe Tucker went from being a boy I used to babysit and one of my oldest friends, to my lover and ex, all in the span of less than a couple of months.

  “I’ve been workin’, restoring more old cars. So that’s been fun, I guess.” He pauses and shoves his hands in his pockets. “Listen Molly, I’m sorry about Dawson and Emma comin’ over and the whole thing with my stupid birthday.”

  “It’s not stupid—it’s an important one, and I get it that you’d rather not have me involved. I could keep telling you how sorry I am, and nothing happened with Ray, but I know you’re stubborn. Like the time you ate a whole bowl of hot peppers because Dawson dared you. Even though your eyes were turnin’ red and there was steam comin’ out of your ears.”

  He laughs and says, “Yeah, see that’s one of our problems. We know everything about each other.”

  Not everything. But I’ll let that slide.

  He touches my arm and says, “I hope you and the girls will still come to the party.”

  That’s nice, and I hope he doesn’t think I am going to ask if Ray can come. If he’s waiting on me to plead Ray’s case, he’s off his meds.

  I can’t wait to go to Ed Franklin’s office and sign away my marriage to that troublemaker.

  “Molly, what’s wrong?”

  I guess I was lost in thought a moment too long, so I blurt out, “I found out some information about Meemaw. I went to see Albert.”

  I can’t resist the change of topic, but I just promised that old man I was gonna keep these secrets under wraps, and here I am blabbing to Tucker just because he touched my arm, the skin of which is buried under three layers of clothing.

  “How did that go? Do you wanna sit down on the playground and tell me?”

  The playground consists of a bench, two swings, and one of those things that makes you spin around and throw up your after-school snack.

  He gestures to the bench and I follow. I’m just gonna sit for a spell, and then get inside and see how many times that little furry nugget has already peed on my floor.

  Ray probably has his big hairy eyeball pressed to the window, but I don’t care. It’s his fault Tucker is now just a guy I talk to for a few minutes in public, instead of being able to pour my heart out in private and cry on his beautiful, bare chest.

  Dammit, now I lost my train of thought.

  Oh, Meemaw.

  “I went to see Albert…”

  I get Tucker up to speed on Meemaw’s wild teen years, and the aunt I have somewhere out there.

  “Your mama is gonna flip when she hears this. I don’t even know if you should tell her. I mean, you should do what you want—it’s not my business, but I know how she is with puttin’ your Meemaw up on a pedestal and all.”

  “Yeah I think this will be enough to knock her off. I may tell Daddy first, and enlist his help, but first I want to see if I can find her.”

  “You wanna find your aunt? Wow, that’s not going to be easy. But it sounds like she was adopted through legitimate means. My mama is adopted. Come to think of it, she was adopted in Maine, too. Or no, I think it was Massachusetts. One of those northern states. I guess that’s where they shipped all the pregnant girls in the old days.”

  “Your mother was adopted? How do I not know that?”

  “It’s not somethin’ she talks about, and I think we’ve all kept quiet because we live in such a gossipy, backwards little town. I think she was worried we would get teased, so she didn’t even tell us until Dawson was out of high school.”

  “Interesting. How old is your mama? She’s younger than mine, right?”

  “No, I don’t think so. I think Mama was fifty-nine on her last birthday, because she joked that was gonna be her age every year from now on.”

  I smile and try to remember what Albert said about his daughter’s age, and how old Meemaw would be if she was still alive.

  I do not like the calculation I am coming up with.

  “I guess a lot of babies were adopted during that time. Abortion wasn’t legal and keepin’ a baby to raise at sixteen would have been a disgrace in these parts.”

  I nod and jump up. “Yes, that’s for sure. Thanks for listenin’. I need to go—”

  I point to my apartment and he says, “Oh yeah, you have a new baby to take care of. Congratulations.”

  I smile and as I turn to walk away from Tucker, I know my face has dropped to the ground.

  I wish I could summon Meemaw because this shit is flying out of the pan.

  Now I get to spend the rest of the day teaching a three-pound dog how to shit in the right place while thinking about how I may have spent a month sleeping with my cousin.

  I walk into my living room and the little doll is asleep on the sofa, with my daughters on either side of her.

  I should be able to enjoy this sweet sight, but my stomach is churning, and I feel like I’m about to be sick. Meemaw better hurry up and get back from jail because we need to talk.

  Magnolia says, “Mom, what’s for supper? We’re starved.”

  I am about to ask what Ray fed them when he was busy buying out half the pet supply store, but I don’t even want to go there.

  I’m staring at the place on the sofa where Tucker and I first kissed, and Mags says, “Mom, hello. What’s wrong with you?’

  She waves her hands in the air while Zinnia says, “You’re so insensitive. You know Mom was out there talking to Tucker. It can’t be easy seeing him. Mom, is that it? Are you upset about Tucker?”

  I can’t think of one thing on that topic that would be appropriate to share with my daughters, even though I am touched that my youngest is so empathetic.

  Before I can answer, Magnolia says, “She’s just upset because Ashley and Tucker are a thing now. Even Granny said it.”

  I love how they talk about me like I’m not standing right here. Wait a minute, what?

  “When did you see Granny?” My mother did not want the girls to call her Meemaw because that was the name reserved for her mama.

  “We had supper with her yesterday. Dad took us.”

  My head pounds harder as I realize what she’s saying.

  “Granny invited Dad to supper? Without me?”

  “Mom, she said that you wouldn’t want to come because you are having trouble with your marriage vows.”

  Zinnia keeps a neutral face, but my cheeks are hot. How dare Mama bad mouth me to my own children and suck up to freaking Ray in the process?

  I hope Jenny Swanson is her sister. It would serve her right to have her precious mama’s love child living right under her nose. If it’s true I may take out an ad in the…oh wait a minute, then I out myself as a kissing cousin. And much worse.

  Now my neck hurts, too. The pain is creeping down my body, and I decide to let the girls argue. At least if I go in the kitchen to rustle up some supper, I can be alone with my disturbing new thoughts.

  Zinnia yells, “And Mags, you are wrong about Tucker and Ashley. I know what’s going on with them because I pay attention. Granny just wants Mom and Dad together, so she’s making up stories.”

  My ears perk up at that, but there is no way Zinnia knows anything about the personal lives of the adults around here, and I do not want to be one of these mothers who is reduced to gossiping with children about men.

  It’s very possible Tucker and Ashley are not dating, but just hooking up. And I don’t want Zinnia to know that. I need to have a talk with Mags and tell her not to put any notions in her sister’s head.

  I wish I could get rid of the notions in my head.

  And Mama has some explaining to do. I swear, that
woman could start an argument in an empty house.

  ***

  “I think there are several states where you can marry your cousin. Look that up Lia, would you?”

  Angie goes to work on my toes while Lia thumbs through a magazine. In honor of my recent trauma, we decided to do a girls’ afternoon and Angie is the first stop on the agenda.

  Now I’m not so sure she was the best person to visit with this news. I still don’t want Ray to know, but I have to tell somebody.

  Well, several somebodies now.

  Lia takes a deep breath and says, “Okay, that would not be helpful information. Molly, there are a lot of adopted people. And you said Tucker wasn’t even sure which state his mother came from. I don’t think geography is one of the Swanson boys’ best subjects. I told Dawson that Logan and I were going to Brussels in May and he said he wouldn’t wanna go no place where all they serve is vegetables.”

  Angie laughs and shakes her head, and I say, “Tucker is much more on the ball than his little brother. I’m sure he knows Belgium is not a vegetarian country.”

  We all share a wistful moment thinking about how silly Dawson can be, but I am quickly reminded that he could also be my cousin.

  Angie says, “Lia is right on this one, honey. Just because Jenny Swanson is the same age and was adopted in or near the same state where your grandma gave up her baby, it does not mean they are the same person. You realize that, right?”

  “Yes, I do but it’s a crazy coincidence, and now I really need to solve this mystery.”

  I know it barely matters since Tucker is done with me, but I suppose I was harboring some hope that things could change over time. Especially once I divorce Ray and set better boundaries.

  I know Tucker is hurting, and even if he is fooling around with that Ashley, I know he hasn’t just turned off his feelings for me like a…oh, what does it matter now?

  If Mama didn’t like me dating a boy I used to babysit, I think making him her nephew would be the turd on the biscuit.

  Lia and Angie assure me that going to see Ed Franklin is a good idea, and that adoption records are not impossible to get.

  Lia says, “It sounds like no one has ever tried.”

  I lean back against the massage fingers of the pedicure chair and close my eyes. “Yeah, I wish I could ask Meemaw, but she’s in the…you know?”

  I almost said she’s eating hummus in jail for trying to appear to Albert.

  That’s how wacked out I’m feeling. If I admitted to seeing a ghost, our girls’ afternoon would go from pedicures to a rubber room in a jiffy.

  Lia and Angie share a sympathetic gaze as they are likely trying to decide how to delicately finish my sentence—she’s in the ground, in heaven, etc.

  Angie pats my hand and says, “You’ve been through a lot these past few months. But I did want to finish telling you about Aunt Ida. Now Loretta thinks that it’s weird that Ray was taking care of her. Don’t you?”

  Even though I already know all about it, I let the conversation slide on over to my stupid soon-to-be-ex again.

  Angie means well, and I know she’ll always share any Ray gossip she comes across, but I don’t care if she thinks Ray hanging out at his aunt’s place while she was sick is some big deal.

  She clearly has never slept with her cousin if she thinks that’s breaking news.

  ***

  Back home with my newly buffed and polished toes, I’m not feeling any better. The girls are upstairs with Penny, as we’ve decided to call her.

  I carefully remove my flip flops—not sure why I got a pedicure when it’s still freezing cold out—and touch my toenails to make sure they are dry enough to put under a blanket. I’m thinking a nap is in order. These are desperate times.

  I grab the light fleece blanket that lives on the back of my sofa for occasions such as these, and I close my eyes.

  I feel her presence before she speaks.

  “Hey, move on over a smidgen, will ya?”

  As much as I love Meemaw, and I’m happy to have more time with her (most of the time), I am not sure how I feel about sitting on my sofa with a ghost with my girls upstairs.

  I wish she wouldn’t come around when they’re here. Pretty soon they are going to tell Ray I’m talking to myself, and he’s going to have me declared ‘whirly bird in the head’, and then he won’t have to pay a dime of child support when I’m committed.

  I move over as she asks from force of habit, as she is my elder.

  I bolt up to an alert seated position when I remember that she has been in Haunting Jail.

  “So, they sprung you pretty quickly from jail. I’m sorry you had to hear that conversation with Albert, but I think I have a right to know if I have a family member out there. I could have a whole batch of cousins, too. Do you know where my aunt is?”

  “Mom, who are you talking to?”

  Why do these girls show themselves when Meemaw is here? Any other time I need a crowbar and a boy band to lure them out of their bedrooms.

  I sit up even straighter and Meemaw teeters on the edge of the sofa and now she’s on the floor. Excellent—now I’ve thrown my dead grandmother on the ground.

  “I fell asleep. I must have had a dream. Good thing you woke me up if I was yellin’ stuff out. Do you girls need somethin’?”

  The blanket has slid off my feet and Meemaw has managed to right herself. She’s smiling at the girls, but little Penny looks like she’s seen a ghost.

  Shit.

  Before the girls can answer, all attention turns to the pint-sized pup, who is trying her hardest to wiggle out of Magnolia’s arms and get to the intruder.

  “Put her down, Mags. You’re going to drop her!” Zinnia is worried about Penny, and rightly so, but I am worried that Meemaw’s fall may have loosened her grip on her invisible ghost power.

  I wish I knew more about how all of this works, but every time she visits, we have no time to discuss anything but my crazy life. And her past.

  Magnolia rarely obeys her sister, but in this case, she places Penny on the floor and now she’s barking and growling at Meemaw.

  I study the girls faces and while they look a bit freaked out, they don’t look like they are staring at their deceased great-grandmother.

  That would be a nuclear level of freaky, as Mags would say.

  Zinnia’s eyes widen and for a second my heart skips a beat, but she says, “Mom, she’s acting like the dog in Paranormal Activity. I think there’s a ghost here.”

  I try my best not to look where Penny is directing her wrath, because it’s impossible not to make a face at Meemaw and draw attention to the fact that Penny and I both see our guest as plain as day.

  Meemaw says, “I better not get sent to that durn jail again because this cute pup can see me.”

  I was just about to answer her when I shake my head to knock out the crazy and say, “Zinnia Petal, that is such nonsense. And where are you watchin’ movies like that? Now why don’t you girls take Penny for a walk. She needs to practice her leash walkin’.”

  Magnolia screws up her face and says, “But it’s so cold out.”

  I stand up to grab the little pink leash and harness set. “Well, you should have thought of that when you accepted Dad’s offer of a puppy before spring hit. Now go on…it wouldn’t hurt you two to get a little exercise, either.”

  This coming from the mother who went to get a pedicure and was caught napping in the middle of the afternoon.

  The girls sigh in harmony and get their little baby ready to take outside.

  Meemaw sits back on the sofa and says, “My word, she’s a cute little bean, ain’t she? But that Ray is a tricky so and so for gettin’ them a puppy.”

  The girls head off and Penny now seems more excited about going outside than barking at the slightly fuzzy, floaty old lady.

  I flop back down on the sofa and say, “So, where were we? Oh yes, I was waiting for you to tell me if you know where I can find my aunt?”

  “Now you jus
t hold on a cotton pickin’ minute, missy. I still haven’t recovered from you findin’ out my business. I don’t like you knowin’ what a wild young girl I was. But my mama was a lot like your mama, so can you blame me? And that Albert…oh, he was the bee’s knees back in those days.”

  “Meemaw, I am not judging you for being a normal young woman. And I get it—he was hot, your mama was like mine, and birth control was scarce. I was just lucky that I got pregnant when the world was a bit more forgiving.”

  “Well yes, but that mama of yours was hell bent on you marryin’ Ray. I kept tellin’ her she should lock you in your room until that fool high tailed it back to New Jersey, but she wasn’t havin’ it. So, I backed down because nobody can tell your mama nothin’.”

  That may be true, but I intend to tell her plenty the next time I talk to her.

  “I think maybe you are trying to skirt the issue here.”

  She folds her wispy hands on her lap and says, “Hold on, I need fried chicken to continue this conversation.”

  Of course, it appears on her lap before I get a chance to say I don’t have time to make fried chicken. I keep forgetting that she can’t eat human food.

  Wait no, she’s human. Well, sort of. I mean earth food. Huh, I don’t think she’s on another planet. I don’t know what to call where we are in relation to heaven.

  I can’t believe I’m struggling to name the real live living place…oh that’s it…she can’t eat food in the land of the living.

  I get back under the blanket and hope that Meemaw takes pity on me. I just remembered that she can hear my thoughts when she’s with me, if she so chooses.

  “You need to settle that brain, Molly Mae. Now that I have my chicken, I can think clearly. So, to answer your question, no I do not know where my beloved first baby girl is at.”

  “But aren’t you able to see everything?”

  She wipes her hands on her skirt and says, “Now why do you think that? I can see what you are doin’. And other people when they are with you. That’s it, girly. And no, before I died, I did not try to find her.”

  Now is not the time to make Meemaw feel guilty for dying before she found her long lost child. But I am racking my brain trying to figure out how her current ghostly state, and ability to visit me, can help us to find my aunt.