Mollywood (Carved Hearts #2)

by L. G. Pace III

  Finding the right place had proven to be a pain in the ass. I wanted a place that was safe and functional for our new family. Molly wanted a place that felt homey and had mature trees and character. We were butting heads over our wish lists and the joy of the hunt had quickly disappeared.

  I could tell that Molly was nearly as nervous about the prospect of homeownership as I was. She mentioned using the money from the sale of her home with her ex to buy a condo or rent a duplex nearby. We were at the doctor’s office waiting for our second OB appointment when she brought this up, which probably saved us from having a huge blowout. The way she phrased this idea made it clear that she meant to do this without me.

  “There are a few places that aren’t far away but would work great for two small kids. I think that the money I have in savings would be enough to cover my move in costs.”

  “So what? You’re ditching me?” I fumed. She whipped her head in my direction, obviously surprised.

  “No.” The word came out slowly, and she looked at me as if I were a madman. “Where the hell did that come from?”

  I tried to keep my voice down as the two other women in the waiting room glanced up from their magazines. “First you don’t want to marry me and now you don’t want to live with me anymore. How do you expect me to feel?”

  She leaned in close to me and locked her pretty eyes on mine, “Of course I want you to come with me. I hope you want to.”

  She put her arm around the back of my chair and rested her head on my shoulder. Her hair smelled like oranges, and I relaxed as I breathed her in. Even with her calming influence it was an effort to get myself under control. My battered emotions were far too sensitive about rejection when it came to Molly. She spoke softly, as if telling me a secret.

  “I didn’t want to assume that you’d be ready… you know…to leave your building after everything. Moving on is a huge deal, Joe. That’s a lot of change all at once.”

  “So is having children and we’re doing that together.” My tone softened, but my pulse still raced. Sometimes we were so far apart on our patterns of thinking that she terrified me.

  “But it’s not like we planned that. We still have some control over where we live.” She’d replied, lifting her head from my shoulder to stare me down. She didn’t seem to be challenging me. Her expression reminded me of the one she wore when she was trying to solve the puzzle box I’d made for her for Christmas.

  I snapped out of the memory when Dr. Greene slapped his notebook down on the table. He stared at me for a moment and then shook his head.

  “I suppose you haven’t asked Molly to join us for a session either.” Dr. Greene’s body language left little doubt that he already suspected my answer.

  “No. But I will.” I hadn’t mentioned it yet. I felt like a coward, I’d been dragging my feet about asking. Molly’s moods were volatile and she flew off the handle about something as basic as a bruised banana. I assumed Molly would jump to the conclusion that I thought she needed therapy, and I didn’t want to start yet another fight. Dr. Greene regarded me doubtfully and I put a hand over my heart. “I promise.”

  “I hope so.” He replied suspiciously, as he ushered me to the door. “I think both of you would benefit from a little refereed discussion.” Once more I promised to bring Molly to an appointment and slipped out the door.

  As I climbed into the truck, I got a text from Molly. Our realtor got us a last minute appointment to see a house that seemed good on paper. She said she’d meet me at the shop and I hurried when I noticed the time.

  When I turned onto my block, I spotted Molly’s car parked out in front of Good Wood. As I passed the storefront window, I saw her inside leaning on the counter. I swung the door open and there stood my girl, chatting with Francis’s daughter, Kelly.

  “It was okay... but you’re right, it was no Salt Lick.” Kelly was saying to Molly in her delicate, high pitched voice.

  “You should come over some night and taste my brisket. It’s my daddy’s recipe, but I put my own little spin on it.” Molly replied. She was wearing rolled up denim bibs and her hair was in pig tails. She looked like Mary Ann from Gilligan’s Island if Mary Ann hung out with Kat Von D. As I snuck up on her, Kelly looked in my direction and her amused eyes gave me away. Molly spun and her lips curled in a smile.

  “There’s my guy.” She drawled, and I pecked her cheek. My hand automatically went to her belly. She was only fourteen weeks along, though because of the twins, the doctor said she measured closer to eighteen. Her faded bib overalls showed off her bump adorably, and had we been alone, I would have kissed her there.

  We’d been to her second appointment two weeks before and Dr. Myers said the blood work and ultrasound looked great. Molly’s relief was palpable. She’d been reading her new mommy books every night and had freaked herself out about “Vanishing Twin Syndrome. Though she admitted one baby would be a hell of a lot easier on us, she was truly worked up about the idea of something happening to one of them. She’d started to freak me out too, so when the ultrasound tech swiveled the screen in our direction, we were both relieved to see both babies alive and well.

  “Hey there, little girl. Hello, Kelly.” I put my arm around Molly and nodded to Francis’s daughter. I noticed Mac lurking within listening distance of us. He seemed to be taking forever to select a tool, but I pretended not to notice. It was pretty obvious he was checking Kelly out. She was cute: tanned, brown eyed, and her long hair was nearly black. She was the type he always picked out of a crowded bar. But Kelly wasn’t the bar crowd type, and I didn’t need the workplace drama that would come from razzing him about it.

  “Hey, Joe.” Kelly’s high pitched voice made her seem younger than she was. She turned back to Molly. “I’m doing the Howl-O-Ween 5k. My dad said your food truck is going to be there. Maybe I can try your brisket then.”

  “Good idea. I’ll figure out a way to work it into a wrap.” I could see the wheels turning behind Molly’s baby blues.

  “When’s this 5k?” Mac asked. He directed his question at Kelly. He twirled his screwdriver in a nonchalant, yet showy manner as he approached the counter. Kelly turned her doe eyes in his direction.

  “October 18th.” She replied, with a flirty toss of her waist length hair.

  I could no longer resist the urge to flip him shit. “Are you gonna run, Mac?”

  Mac’s ears turned red, and he folded his tattooed guns across his barreled chest. “Maybe.”

  Molly snickered and he shot her a look of reproach.

  “What?” He looked serious. “I work out.”

  “Curling a beer bottle in the direction of your mouth isn’t going to qualify you for the Boston Marathon.” Molly replied with a small laugh.

  “Ha ha,” He replied. “What about you, prego? Are you going to walk it?”

  “I would, but I’ll be cooking.” Molly responded, her eyes dancing with amusement. “You might want to cut back on that pack a day habit before you take up jogging. You’ll have a damn heart attack.”

  I could tell Mac was biting back some vile comments. “I’ve been down to a quarter of a pack since January. Show’s how much you pay attention.”

  “My mistake. You’re a bad ass, Mac. I can’t wait to cheer you on.” Molly grinned.

  “Ha ha, Short shit. Challenge accepted.” He replied. Meanwhile, Kelly glanced back and forth at the squabbling siblings. Mac stole a glance at Kelly and she seemed to be doing the same and caught him looking. She smiled sweetly at him. I felt like an intruder in their moment and looked around for Francis. He was nowhere to be seen.

  “Molly. We gotta fly.” I murmured, anxious to leave the starry eyed pair alone.

  Molly glanced at the time on her phone.

  “Oh, shit! See ya later, Kelly! Live strong, Lance!” I huffed in amusement at her as I quickly ushered her out the door. Molly banged on the window and lifted a fist in the spirit of unity to her brother. When Mac flipped her the bird, we both dissolved in laugher.


  “He’s fixin’ to piss Francis off, hitting on his daughter like that.” I said as we sped off in the direction of our potential new home.

  “She’s a grown ass woman. But she’s way too nice for Mac.” Molly responded, flipping down the visor to check her lipstick in the mirror. “She’s so friendly, it’s kinda creepy. I keep waiting for her to pull out a knife and stab somebody.”

  Turning down the quiet lane, I gave Molly what I hoped was a comforting smile. The neighborhood was filled with large single family homes interspersed with green lawns and old trees. Tamryn had made a hobby out of finding the best listings and forwarding them to us and our realtor on email. She was pouring stress onto an already difficult situation, but I knew she meant well. Molly would have freaked on me if I told Tamz to stop anyway. It was a delicate situation, balancing Molly’s needs versus what I could handle.

  “Suburbia… we’re really going to do the whole white picket fence thing, huh?” Molly unconsciously pulled her sleeve down a bit to cover her tattoos. Giving an inward sigh, I kept my voice calm and level when I spoke.

  “You said the last two places were too urban. This one is in an older neighborhood; it’s in a great school district. Let’s just take a look okay? There’s Thomas.” Pulling into an empty spot I waved to our realtor. He’d helped Mac find his house after his split with his ex, and Mac spoke very highly of him. When we called him, Thomas had jumped at the opportunity to help us.

  Hopping out of her car, I moved around to get the door and help Molly out. She gave me her patented eye roll, but put a lot of pressure on my arm as she stood up. She shot me an apologetic glance, and taking her hand, I led her down the sidewalk toward Thomas. He shook my hand and gave Molly a chaste hug.

  “Hey, you two. Did you have any trouble finding the place?”

  “No.” Molly’s tone was overly chipper which wasn’t necessarily a good sign. “But it is kind of out of the way.”

  Thomas nodded and pulled out a leather bound notebook.

  “Side street, good school, old trees, houses with character. Yes, this should have a lot of things that are on your list.” He gave her a huge smile and gestured us forward.

  I could tell five minutes after we got there that this was not the place. It was all cookie cutter, and the flow was all wrong. With some hard work and sweat equity, we could have made it very livable, but we didn’t have that kind of time. I let Molly come to that decision on her own. It took her less than ten minutes.

  Thomas took feedback from both of us, mostly from Molly, and made some notes. Promising he would find us something better to look at next time, he left us near our car. I helped Molly back into the passenger seat and slid back behind the wheel. We were half way back to the apartment before Molly spoke.

  “We’re never going to find a place. Maybe we should just listen to Mac and install an elevator.” I’d stopped at a red light and turned to gape at her in shock.

  “Wait…did you just agree with Mac? Is that even…possible?” Her eyes narrowed at my teasing and she turned away to stare out the window.

  “I’m just tired of looking at houses. There’s always something wrong with them. Either they are too old, or too new. They are on a busy street or way outside of town. The closest we came to agreeing on anything was that funky ranch house but it needed way too much work.”

  I sighed and placed my hand over hers.

  “We could always just build a house. Or I could get some guys together and remodel one.” Remodeling was actually the last thing I wanted to do. It reminded me too much of Jessica and Jack. Tempting fate by doing exactly the same thing with my current mate that I had done with my first seemed just…wrong.

  “We don’t have that kind of time. These babies are going to be here before you know it. What we need is for Thomas to get his head out of his ass and find us what we need!” Her anger was as severe as it was irrational.

  “Tell you what. Just in case, I can talk to a few people about putting an elevator into the shop. Just so we have a backup plan.” She whirled to look at me with her eyes flashing.

  “Like there’s room for an elevator. And what happens if there’s a power failure? I’m trapped inside with two infants? Oh my God! What if there’s a fire. I’d have to try to climb down the fire escape with two babies or just throw them to some random passerby. This is crazy! I can’t do this….it’s just too damn much.” She burst into angry tears.

  I immediately veered over to the side of the street and parked. Reaching over, I pulled her into my arms. The console made it awkward but I pressed my side painfully into it so that Molly wouldn’t be uncomfortable. She resisted my embrace for a moment and then collapsed into my chest. I knew she sobbed in frustration and fear and I tried my best to soothe her.

  “Baby girl, you know you won’t be alone. I don’t care what it takes I’ll make sure that you and the babies have everything you need. Shhh, baby, please don’t cry. It’s all gonna be okay.”

  It took almost five minutes but I managed to calm her down. Inside, a part of me was screaming in concert with her concerns. Two babies. Not just one life to try and protect, but two. I’d utterly failed to protect my first, and now I was going to be responsible for the well-being of two more? The tortured animal that lived in the dark corner of my mind howled in protest. But Molly needed me, so I shut it away and ignored the noise.

  When we got home, I made her put her feet up and ordered out for some dinner. Thanks to Molly’s encyclopedic knowledge of every restaurant in town coupled with Francis’ organizational skills I had a mammoth binder that was a veritable compendium of carry out menus. I’d found a service that picks up carry out orders from anywhere and delivers for a fee. I think I was on track to becoming their number one customer.

  With the cravings that Molly had been having, it was a Godsend to have a service that would schlep their butts to six different restaurants on their way to my house. The owner and I had been talking about a discount “frequent flyer” rate. Turning from the phone, I discovered that Molly had disappeared into the bathroom. I checked on her and found her lounging in a tub full of bubbles. The water wasn’t too hot and she impishly flicked some at me as I ran my hand through it to test the temperature.

  “How long ‘til the food comes?” Planting a gentle kiss on her forehead I pulled a towel out of the cupboard and put it within reach of her.

  “Not long. You should have enough time to soak before it gets here.” She smiled and slid down further into the water.

  “Joe….” She sighed, her gaze fixed down on her belly. “I’m sorry for being so ridiculous I know it must be getting old. I’m driving myself crazy. But I think the mood swings are starting to get better.”

  “It’s fine, baby. Just try to relax.” I kissed her forehead again and went back out into the apartment. Her mood swings weren’t getting better. They were less frequent, but the intensity of them was worse. Or maybe my patience was just wearing thin.

  Her nausea and vomiting was a lot less frequent, and she seemed to have more energy now that she was in her second trimester. Still, she slept like a rock and when she was doing anything physical, she needed to take a lot of breaks.

  Gathering up the scattered dirty clothes I started the washer before heading into the kitchen. I didn’t want Molly to have to bother with chores. I was exhausted from working all day, but managed to finish just before the doorbell rang.

  Our delivery dude was a heavyset kid with horrible acne. I tossed an extra ten into my planned tip (hoping it might help him afford a dermatologist) and kicked the door shut with my heel. Juggling the carryout containers, I returned to the kitchen and plated up the food. When I came back out into the living room, Molly was lowering herself onto the couch wearing one of my t-shirts and a white pair of panties.

  “Joe, baby, did you clean up?” She glanced around the room with a troubled frown and then back at me.

  “Yeah.”

  “I was going to do that after we ate.” She looked a b
it defeated, and I doubted it was likely she’d have rallied the energy.

  “I wanted to be able to spend time with you tonight, without distractions.” I replied, handing her the food. She leaned down and inhaled the aromas rising from her plate.

  “Crab Rangoon? Mac and Cheese from Hillside Farmacy? Baby, are you trying to turn me into a house?” I smiled and let her sharp tone wash off of my jangled nerves.

  “You’re tired and I didn’t want you to feel like you had to cook. Me cooking isn’t exactly the best idea. You don’t have to eat it all. I just wanted to give you options.” She looked from me to her plate with hesitation, and then picked up her fork and tasted the mac and cheese.

  Despite her initial irritation, Molly tore into the meal with gusto. “God, everything’s so good. Oh! Tamryn called today. Your parents are coming into town the week before Thanksgiving and they want to meet my family. She’d like to have everyone out to the ranch for dinner and drinks sometime while they’re back.”

  “What did you tell her?” There was a hard edge to my voice and Molly shot me a look of surprise, and then shrugged.

  “I told her we’d be there. Why?” It was amazing how much ominous warning she could put in one word. What she said was ‘why’, but what I heard was ‘you got a problem with that bucko?’

  Taking a deep mental breath I took a bite of food, buying myself a moment’s respite. Tamryn had been trying to get me to call my parents for weeks but I’d managed to dodge her. It pissed me off that she had done an end run around me by going to Molly. And that Molly had accepted the invitation without talking to me about it.