Jenny shook her head and laughed at Molly over the rim of her glass. “Baby weighing you down?”
“I’ll say. Cramping my style, too.” Molly signaled for the bartender. “Could I have a glass of water with lemon, please? Thanks.”
She turned back to her friend and stared at Jenny’s drink. “That looks good. Can I at least smell it?”
“Molly, you don’t like stuff like this even when you can drink!” Jenny exclaimed. “They don’t make a nonalcoholic whiskey and Coke?”
Molly shook her head. “I think that’s just called Coke.”
The bartender slid Molly’s water across the bar. Molly looked from her glass to the colorful cocktail in Jenny’s.
“So. I take it things aren’t going well,” Molly said.
“Not unless you count me going insane at my parents’ house,” Jenny said. She took a deep gulp from her drink.
“I thought there had to be a reason you were going for the vodka.”
“Molly, it’s been awful,” Jenny said. “I spend my days at that horrendous bank job—seriously, do they really need someone to itemize receipts anymore?—and come home to meatloaf and boxed mashed potatoes on TV trays every night. All my parents do is watch game shows. I think it’s the only way they know how to live together, if you really want to know. They don’t talk about anything more important than how pretentious Alex Trebek’s French accent sounds.” She picked up a napkin and began twisting it with her fingers. “Which it totally does, by the way. I’ve practically moved into the gym in the evenings just to get out of there. And get this. When I am home they barely talk to me because they’re so afraid of acting judgmental about the situation with Dan, but their silence makes it so obvious that they think I should run back to him with open arms.” Jenny paused. “As if they’re in any place to give marital advice.” The napkin was now lying in shreds on the bar. Molly looked at her friend, who was pushing the pieces of paper into a single pile. Both with the napkin and with Dan, Jenny had created a mess out of something so trivial, and Molly had to fight the urge to sweep her arm across the counter and clean up the jumble of fragments.
“And what do you think about Dan?” she asked instead.
“I think I’m afraid Dan’s a cheating rat bastard, that’s what I think.” Jenny took another gulp of her drink, flinching as the liquor went down her throat.
“Been hearing that phrase a lot lately,” Molly mumbled.
“What’d you say?”
“Nothing. Never mind.” Molly took a deep breath and twisted on her stool to face her friend. “But, Jenny, he didn’t cheat on you. You know that.”
“No, I don’t. How could I? He didn’t exactly explain himself at your party,” Jenny said.
Molly groaned. “Jenny, Scott was blabbering all over the place. Dan couldn’t have gotten a word in edgewise if he’d stood on a chair and shouted. Have you tried talking to him? I know how you get when you’re angry, and you’re not exactly the easiest person to communicate with.”
Molly paused. Jenny’s expression was impassive.
“No offense.”
“None taken. I know I shut down, I do. But I just keep imagining him talking to this girl, actually going off with her somewhere dark and doing God knows what. They say you marry your father, you know. I can’t get the image out of my head. And then I just get so . . . so angry that I hang up the phone when he calls and don’t answer his texts,” Jenny said. “I don’t want to be made a fool.”
Molly stared down at her water glass, as if the answers to Jenny’s problems could be found in the ice cubes. She’d never known Jenny and Dan to not be attached at the hip—they were as good as Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth, Fred and Ginger. A person didn’t think of one of them without considering the other. Some couples were like that, Molly thought. Most good couples, anyway. Molly glanced down at the ring on her left hand and cleared her throat.
“Listen.”
Jenny looked up from her drink and cocked her head, waiting.
“Have you talked to Scott?”
Jenny’s face flushed pink, making her freckles pop like tiny polka dots against her skin. She shook her head. “He left me some crazy-long voice mail. I may have deleted it before listening.”
Molly gave her a blank stare. Jenny shrugged.
“I was a little angry.”
“Well, I talked to Scott about that night. He said that he just saw Dan talking to that girl, then walk away for a while—that’s it. Remember how obnoxious and drunk Scott was at our party? You know he likes to stir up trouble just to get attention.”
Jenny snorted. “And you, the one who doesn’t like to make waves at all.”
She grew quiet, and Molly watched the smile fade from her face. Jenny glanced at Molly’s belly like it was a car accident on the side of the road, something she knew was there but didn’t want to acknowledge.
“Did you know that not one thing has changed in my old bedroom at my parents’ house since I moved out?” she asked. “My horse show ribbons are still taped to the mirror. I won those in the ninth grade! They even have my old R.E.M. posters up on the wall. And how did I ever think that yellow paint with bright pink curtains was a good idea?”
Molly raised one eyebrow. “You know what I think is a good idea?” She pointed at her friend’s empty glass. “Getting away from the Jenny Museum and going back to your husband. Even if it’s just because your apartment is better decorated.”
“I know,” Jenny said. “I know. You’re right. And I miss him so much it makes my chest hurt. But it’s not going to be the same, Molly. Especially if my Dan isn’t really my Dan.”
Molly flinched. She loved Dan like a brother. She’d never heard Jenny doubt what she had with him.
“I just want somebody to be mad at,” Jenny continued. “We’ve been through hell and high water with this job thing and trying to get pregnant, and then all this stuff comes out about him and some girl? I just don’t get it. It was like the last straw on a really big camel’s back, and it hit too close to home.”
She guffawed. “Literally! Get it? Because now I’m at home?”
“I get it.” Molly sighed. “And I’m betting that your gut is telling you that it’s all in your head. We know Dan too well.” Molly dipped her head a little. “And Scott, for that matter. Dan probably didn’t do anything worse that night than drink too much.”
“So you think I’m being a shit?” Jenny shook her head and started picking at another napkin. “I don’t want to be a shit. It’s just all so . . .”
“Shitty?”
“Pretty much.”
“I think you love him, that’s what I think,” Molly said. “And I think you have a lot going on right now, so it’s easier for you to hide than face it. But I also think it’s too easy for us to feel like our current relationships are going to look exactly like the ones we grew up with.”
Jenny sighed. “You know,” she said, “I thought that going home would let me just forget it about it for a while, like I could be a kid again, and worry about somebody else’s marriage instead of my own. But I guess that’s the thing about being a grown-up—you can’t run away from your problems when you’re the one creating them. Fine. I’ll call him tonight. At the very least, my parents will be thrilled to not hear me heckling Pat Sajak anymore.”
She looked at Molly with shrewd eyes. “When did you get so much common sense, anyway?” she asked. “Is impending motherhood changing you already?”
“Must be,” Molly said. “It’s all that marriage-and-babies stress. Making me age more quickly.”
Jenny glanced at Molly’s belly again. Molly tensed up, and pushed her glass away from her.
“Okay, I have to say it,” she said. “This is weird now, isn’t it?”
“What are you talking about?” Jenny’s voice was light, but she looked at Molly with eyes that belied th
e brave facade.
“I’m talking about how we’re hanging out, just like any other time, but now there’s this elephant in the room.”
“Nah, you’re not that big yet.”
“JENNY.”
“Fine,” Jenny said. “You mean the elephant that’s in your belly? Or the fact that there’s no elephant in mine?”
“Both.” Molly gauged her friend’s reaction. “I can’t hide it, Jenny, but I sort of wish I could sometimes. Only because I want you to be happy, and I want me to be happy, and I don’t want to hurt you every time we get together just because this”—she gestured over her stomach—“is happening.”
Jenny blew out a gust of air between her lips. “And I don’t want you to not be excited just because of my own issues. It’s fine. It’s going to be great. I’m happy for you, Molly. I’m so excited for you, I swear.” She shrugged. “Just don’t mind me if I get a little misty-eyed sometimes when I see how cute that little baby bump of yours is. I think I’m more of a mess than I’d like to believe. Shocking, I know.”
Jenny cleared her throat. When she spoke again, her tone was brighter. “So, tell me. What’s going on with you guys? Still no wedding date, I know. But I hear the second trimester is supposed to be the sweet spot of a pregnancy.”
Molly shook her head. Her best friend already knew about the changes in Scott the last few months: how he’d backpedaled on the baby’s name, his recent push for her to stay at home once the baby was born. She’d skipped the part, though, about the pit in her stomach that appeared whenever they talked about these things. She hadn’t mentioned, either, that when she was with his family she felt like a commoner who’d been lucky enough to meet the prince—a commoner who was learning that she might have to turn her back on her old life in order to step up to the pedestal required of her in the new one.
“Why doesn’t Scott quit his?” Jenny was asking. “You actually go to your job.”
Molly made her voice deep and guttural. “Because he’s a man, that’s why. And men don’t quit their jobs just to change poopy diapers.”
“Damn, Molly.” Jenny let out a low whistle. “Who knew Mr. New Money could be so old-fashioned? He knows you love your job, right?”
“I thought so.”
“And he knows that your job is paying for that house right now, too?”
“Yup. Pretty sure.”
“And he knows that if you give up the work that you love that pays for your life you’re going to be absolutely miserable, yes? I know how you are when you’re out of a routine. It ain’t pretty.”
“Downright ugly, if you ask me.” Molly laughed. “I know. He came out of the blue with it last week. It’s just not something that’s on my radar.”
“Well, yeah, especially when Scott’s got the easiest job in the world. How many times have we stopped by your house after work and he’s already sitting around in his underwear?”
“Yeah, I’m sorry about that.”
Jenny giggled. “It’s okay. Scott may be clueless, but at least he looks good half-naked. You ready to eat?” She looked at Molly’s belly again, this time with a smile. “Eh, who am I kidding? Of course you’re ready to eat.”
Molly placed the cash for the drinks on the bar and pushed it toward the bartender before Jenny could protest. The two women rose from their seats. Molly winced as she placed her body weight on her swollen feet.
As they walked toward the hostess station, Jenny slowed down. The bar area had become crowded since their arrival, and she raised her voice so Molly could hear her over the din.
“So, how did you leave it with Scott?” she asked. “About the job thing?”
Molly shrugged her shoulders. “We’re still arguing. But he did a pretty good job Friday morning of making me feel claustrophobic.”
Jenny stopped in front of the hostess stand and turned to her. Molly blushed as her friend’s eyes moved over her face.
“Claustrophobic?”
“Boxed in,” Molly admitted. “Like I have nowhere to go. He seems adamant about me staying at home, and I feel like I’m going to have to give in in order for us to be okay. I don’t know. I just feel like no matter which way I turn, I’m going to feel guilty about something.”
She stood in place, quiet.
“That’s not good, Molly,” Jenny said. “You shouldn’t have to feel that way, especially not now. Think about how happy you used to be when you were around Liam.”
“That was a long time ago, Jenny.”
“But the idea of getting married and having a baby should make you feel like you’re grabbing hold of the world,” Jenny said, “not like the world’s got you by the nose.”
The restaurant around the bar buzzed with a low noise, and soft music was playing overhead. Jenny threw her arm around Molly’s shoulder, drawing her in for a sideways hug. To their left, a group of people broke out into loud chatter, laughing suddenly at someone’s joke. Jenny dropped her arm back to her side and laughed herself.
“Well, we’re a pair tonight, aren’t we? Come on, this is ridiculous. Let’s go get some pad Thai and gossip like we’re supposed to. I’ve had enough of this depressing grown-up talk.”
Molly was voicing her agreement when she heard her phone beep. She fished it out of her green faux–alligator skin bag. “Oh, speak of the devil. There’s a text from Scott.”
She clicked open the message to read it, then reached out for Jenny’s arm. “Um, Jenny. Scott says there’s a voice mail from Bill on the home phone.”
The noise of the restaurant seemed to have gotten louder, climbing to a pitch that seemed almost feverish in its intensity.
“I must have just missed his call,” she said.
“What do you think that means?”
Molly started to sweat in the sudden heat of the room. “You know what I was just saying about Scott wanting me to quit my job?”
She looked at her friend.
“I think Shulzster & Grace may have beat him to it.”
CHAPTER SIX
May
No
Molly sat with her back to the desk in her office, staring out at some seagulls circling above the bronze hat on the statue of William Penn outside. The sun was beginning to set on a brilliant, cloudless day, and she could see from the dense river of headlights on Broad Street that the traffic heading home had gotten thicker. She wiped a smudge of dirt off the window with a clean tissue and made a mental note to bring glass cleaner with her the next day.
A tumbling feeling was rolling against the inside of her torso wall like the pulsating motion of a massage chair. The baby had only recently started moving around in her belly, and Molly placed a hand over it now to feel the thump-thump-thump the baby made as he or she somersaulted around. Someone had told her once that early in pregnancy, the baby’s movements would feel like a goldfish bumping against a fishbowl inside her, and Molly now knew the description was spot-on. It was odd to witness, to actually be able to feel, this person growing inside of her, feeding off of her, getting stronger.
If only her baby could pipe up with a little advice, she thought. She could use it.
Molly gave her belly a pat and looked back over the city. The crimson taillights of the cars looked like blood flowing through an artery. She couldn’t imagine living anywhere but in this vibrant, busy place. Molly’s phone buzzed on her desk, and she picked it up to hear Jenny’s voice on the other end.
“Hey, Jenny. I was just wondering: will you still be friends with me if you have to come out to West Chester to visit me and the baby?”
“Nope.” Jenny didn’t miss a beat. “Not a chance. I’m not going out to the suburbs for you, woman, even if that baby’s the cutest thing I’ve seen since the Philly Phanatic.”
“Wait, what do you mean if the baby’s cute?” Molly was smiling.
“Kidding. I’m kidding.” Jenny�
�s laughter sounded carefree. “Of course your baby’s going to be adorable. You may have gotten knocked up, but at least the guy who did the knocking was hot.” Her laughter quieted, and when Jenny spoke again, her voice was serious. “You still haven’t decided what to do?”
Molly stared out the window. She saw the first hint of a moon peek out from behind the One Liberty Place tower. She loved when the moon was in the sky while it was still brilliant with sunlight. It felt like the universe was trying its damnedest to keep the world from slipping into darkness. Molly had sympathy for its stubbornness.
“Yeah, I’m thinking about it.” She sighed. “It makes sense on a lot of levels. I’d have free, good child care. I’d be spending less money on groceries. Wouldn’t have to worry about cooking most meals.”
She toyed with a pen on her desk before sliding it into a drawer.
“And I’d have people around to talk me off the ledge when it all gets overwhelming—because you know it will. My parents are really nice to even offer.”
There was a pause on the other end of the line. “But?”
“But it would mean actually moving back home. And I’d lose hours at work because I’d be spending so much time on a train. And Jenny, I can’t sublet my house. Could you imagine me as a landlord?”
“Uh, no, I can’t.” Jenny whistled. “Not as nicely as you keep that place. You’d be stopping by every week just to make sure they’re cleaning behind the toilet.”
“They better, man. I just replaced that toilet.” Molly smiled for a moment when she heard Jenny snort, but the familiar waves of confusion soon came crashing back. She told Jenny about her research into day care costs, and how placement in any of the centers downtown would cost more than her rent payment each month.
“So it looks like Molly Sullivan could be hanging up her Mary Tyler Moore hat.”
“Yep.” Molly had been patting and stacking the same pile of files on her desk for the length of the conversation. She stopped now and lined them up at the edge of her desk. “I could be.”
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