by Davies, Cora
"Actually, I was going to say that was the best idea I've heard in a while." Jack laughed. He put out his hand to shake hers. "Now, who do I see about filling out permit paperwork?"
"Don't you have about half of city council in your bar every night?" she looked at his hand but did not offer hers.
"Not every night," he said, and the corner of her mouth twitched. His eyes stayed on her mouth, and he was resisting the urge to take her in his arms and kiss her long and hard. Get it together, we're too close to where it happened. With that thought, he looked down the hall and felt the anxiety from prom night return. Molly looked as though she was going to walk away.
"I'm sorry I blamed you for taking my lights." Jack forced himself to find something else to talk about, just so she would not leave.
"I almost did, those stupid things made me pretty mad last night," she said. Jack laughed as the anxiety washed away, and the stillness of her face softened into a true smile. "I also came out here because I wanted to thank you for last night. With that guy."
"I didn't do anything." Jack wondered how she knew he had checked the outside of her building several times the night before.
"You did, you helped Brian get that man to the cop car," she said and his heart sunk a little. That is what she meant. "It might not have seemed like a lot, but I was pretty scared. It makes me feel good to know I have someone across the street who will help me if I need it."
"It was nothing. I would have done the same for anyone," he said. Why did I say that?
"I know." She sounded defensive.
"Well, if that's it." He did not want it to be it. But he also knew he could not stand with her alone like this much longer. Just a few feet away from her. He wanted to grab her and kiss her, and could see the scene flash in front of his eyes. If she made him stand in this hallway with her a minute longer, he might just do that.
"That's not everything," she said touching his arm just as he turned to walk away. He turned on his heel grabbing her tiny hand that was gently resting on his arm, and pulled her close to him. He held her against his body feeling her firm breasts against his chest. Jack's heart quickened, and he took his free hand to tilt her chin up towards his face.
Molly bit her bottom lip and he dove in stopping just a few inches from her mouth. He leaned his forehead against hers and looked into her eyes. He wanted to taste her, and as he moved in just a fraction from her lips, she sucked in a sharp breath and turned her head away.
"I," she said sounding breathless. "I wanted to thank you for walking around my building, too. I saw you."
He leaned his forehead against the wall, his body still pressed against hers. He could feel his pants become tighter, being this close to her did that to him. Jack wondered if she felt the stiffness against her stomach. "You're welcome."
He broke away from her as quickly as he had grabbed her a moment before. He wanted to kick himself for forcing her into his arms like that. Of course she did not want him. She would never want him. All the more reason to get out of this town. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I don't know what came over me."
"I have a boyfriend," she said, as if that was the only reason she turned away from him.
"Yeah, and he's a great guy Molly," Jack's voice dripped with sarcasm.
"He is a good man," Molly said, but quietly, and even Jack wondered if she believed it.
"Thank you for the permit idea," Jack said feeling his heart sink low in his chest. It physically hurt to be this close to her and not be with her. "If you need anything, anything at all just call me Molly. I'm always around to help a neighbor."
Jack turned and walked quickly to the exit, pulling his beanie over his head as he left. He looked back right before he pushed the door open and saw Molly leaning against the wall, her head tilted back and looking towards the ceiling. She looked sad. Stay away from her before you fuck her life up again. Jack walked away.
Chapter Seven
Prom 2005
Molly listened as the pulsating music flooded the gym. Under the Sea was the theme of the night, but trashy booty shaking music must have been the DJ's theme.
"Where is Jack?" Crystal yelled at her over the loud music.
"I think he had too much to drink," Molly shouted back. Molly laughed as she thought of how drunk her boyfriend had become so quickly. She watched earlier as Jack downed a flask, knowing it would not take much. He was in over his head, but still trying to prove himself amongst the boys that ran in Molly's crowd. Her fellow cheerleaders mostly dated football players, cliché or not, that was the way things were in Seaside Cove until Jack came along. Molly had gotten some serious grief from her friends for dating a fisherman's son. How quickly everyone in school forgot where she came from once her parents came into serious money.
She and Jack had stolen beers from his dad's house before, but she had never seen him drink the hard stuff until the guys that day laid down some good old fashioned peer pressure. "I think he went to the bathroom to throw up."
Her friends looked at her shocked. They probably would have killed their boyfriends if they threw up during prom. Molly had sprained her ankle last week and was not able to do much dancing anyway. Besides, she was actually having fun catching up with her single friends. She and Jack had been together every day since their first kiss on Christmas a few months ago. As much as she loved being with him, she missed her friends.
It had been at least four songs since he disappeared though. "I'm gonna go check on him!"
She grabbed her crutches and made her way through the tables towards the hallway. A chaperon, someone's mom, stopped her. "Do you need help?"
"I'm just going to use the bathroom," she said.
"There is one in here," the woman said.
"I know, but with my crutches and big dress, it's so much easier to use the one by the lockers." She tried to give her sweetest smile. Jack had run out that way to use the bathroom earlier, she hoped he had not been caught vomiting in the hallway. "I'm a big mess, I don't want anyone to walk in on me trying to wiggle around."
The woman gave her a pitying smile and opened the door to the hallway for her.
Only lit by the fire escape lights, the hallway was dark and eerie. Molly began her hobbled walk with her crutches towards the locker bathrooms. Hopping around the corner, she almost fell over as she ran into a football player and his cheerleader girlfriend. Chad and Izzie.
"Oh! Sorry guys." She started to crutch around them, then she stopped. Chad looked as though he had been in a fight, bloody nose and half untucked shirt. Izzie looked as though she had been crying, and Molly noticed one of her spaghetti straps dangled, torn from her dress. "Um, is everything okay?"
Chad looked at Izzie, his arm around her. "Not really Mols. I was just getting ready to take Izzie home."
"Izzie?" Molly was concerned for the doe eyed pixie of a girl.
"It's alright Molly. I just want to go home," Izzie said from behind a tear stained face.
Molly stood her ground. "Did something happen Iz?"
Chad took a deep breath. "I didn't want to have to be the one to tell you this Mols, but I found Jack down by the bathroom, his hands all over Izzie."
Izzie burst into tears, covering her face. Molly shook her head. "No, what? What are you talking about?"
"He attacked me," Izzie cried, not taking her eyes off the floor. "He tried to... he tried..." the girl stopped speaking and broke into deeper sobs.
"If I hadn't got there in time, he would have raped her. I fought him off, he was so drunk. He was nothing to knock out." Chad almost sounded boastful to Molly. Blood drizzled from a cut on his lip.
Izzie suddenly looked to Molly, fear and desperation in her eyes. "Please don't tell anyone Molly."
Molly felt as though the world was spinning, sucking her down into the ground. Her mouth was dry and her stomach churned. "But, Jack? Jack wouldn't... He couldn't..."
Chad stepped in between Izzie and Molly. "Are you calling Izzie a liar?"
Molly
shook her head. She had known Izzie her whole life. Even when Molly had been a poor kid, Izzie had always been nice to her. But, Molly loved Jack. They had only been together four months, but would she not have noticed if he had a side to him like this? Believe Izzie. She did not want to. Everything in her body told her not to. But Jack was drunk. Izzie was crying. Chad had been in a fight. She had noticed Jack spending more time with Izzie lately, he was giving her rides to and from school in exchange for tutoring in English. Could he have really...?
"I don't want anyone to know, I'm too embarrassed, please Molly, promise me you won't tell anyone?" Izzie pleaded. "Please?"
"I promise," Molly stammered pushing her emotions away. "Where is he?"
"He's by the bathroom, I knocked him out," Chad said standing a little taller as he said it. The couple continued towards the exit. Molly watched, and when they reached the door, Izzie looked back one last time. Then they were gone.
With a heavy heart, Molly continued to crutch her way towards the bathroom, and found Jack passed out, just as Chad had said. Molly hobbled over to him, checked for a pulse, and when she did Jack's eyes opened. He saw Molly and smiled, and she felt a confusion within her body of the usual way her heart leapt when he smiled at her, and a deep sadness wash over her at the same time.
"Izzie," Jack muttered. "Izzie, come here."
Then closed his eyes again and began to snore.
Izzie. Molly backed away and crutched back towards the gym, fighting back tears. When she made it back to her table, a few of Jack's friends were standing nearby. Other kids Molly had known from childhood. Guys who she grew up next door to when she was grateful just for a roof over her head.
"Jack passed out drunk," she told them and a few started to laugh, another guy rolled his eyes. "Maybe you should get him out of here."
"Yeah, I'll take him home." Jack’s friend Mike walked up to her. "I haven't been drinking. You want a ride home too Molly?"
Molly nodded stiffly. There was no way she was going to hang out here at the prom after what happened. "You probably want to bring at least one other person; I don't think he's walking anywhere."
Chapter Eight
You can do this Molly. Just smile and nod. And do whatever Bridget tells you to do. You aren't talking to the entire town, just to Bridget. One on one.
"Molly, are you ready?" Bridget asked. A stage hand clipped a tiny microphone to Molly's white t-shirt as Bridget slowly surveyed her. "I'm surprised you aren't wearing the Mrs. Claus dress, or at least something a little more... festive."
Molly did a double take at Bridget's impressive black dress suit, then she adjusted the bottom of her jeans around her boots. She had not had time to get back to her apartment since the meeting, and she was wearing the same outfit she quickly threw on that morning. The Mrs. Claus costume had been handed over to her shortly after the afternoon meeting, and when she opened the box she smelled the strange odor coming off of the old clothes. Molly realized she had not been thinking clearly when she volunteered to be Mrs. Claus. "No, I think I want to get it dry cleaned first. It smells a little like storage."
And I want to burn it. Not only was the smell atrocious, but Molly just swam in it when she tried it on earlier. She was already considering buying a whole new costume altogether. Sure she could stuff the clothes with padding and fill the dress out in the hips and, well-everywhere else- but why not start from scratch? New Mrs. Claus, new dress. She decided she would confide this in Bridget after the interview, maybe she could help her find a new costume.
Of course, only if the council would fund it. Molly did not want to put her own money into the dress if she was only going to volunteer this year.
She crossed her fingers that this news segment would find a Santa volunteer that she got along with. Her thoughts turned to Jack. There had been a fleeting moment in the hallway where she almost asked him if he would volunteer. She felt like she wanted to spend more time with him, get inside of his mind. Finally apologize. But then he grabbed her. With his body pressed against her, every chaste Christmas thought fell from her thoughts. All she could think was how much she wanted him.
"How's Jeremy?" Bridget asked. Molly could feel her checks redden. Of course Jeremy was brought up every time her mind strayed to Jack. She did not know what was wrong with her, she had not thought about Jack like this since high school. Though, if she was honest with herself, she had been thinking about Jack a lot more since he moved in across the street two years ago.
"Jeremy is great. He's really busy," Molly said, trying to mask the sound of sadness from her voice. She missed the way things used to be between Jeremy and herself.
"Does he get to come visit often?"
"No, but we talk every day, and video chat a few times a week."
"Oh? And what happens during these video chats?" Bridget asked winking as she straightened her pencil skirt. They were sitting around a small coffee table where Bridget did her On the Local interviews.
"I'd think you could imagine what a couple does over video chat when they haven't been together in a while." Molly surprised herself with her own brazenness. She took a sip of the coffee from the Channel 8 mug in front of her and attempted to change the subject. "Oh wow, they give you guys the good stuff."
"How long has it been since you guys were together?" Bridget drew the word together out much longer than she needed to and lowered her voice. Molly realized that Bridget was trying to pretend like what they said was just between them, but Molly did not forget they were both wearing microphones. Molly pretended to not hear her, and nervously straightened her jean cuffs again.
"When do we start?" Molly asked, and as if those were the magic words a man began to shout.
"Bridget! We're on in three," he did a visual countdown at the same time and mouthed two, one.
"Welcome back and thank you for joining us this evening. We'd like to welcome our guest, Molly Smith of Seaside Gifts from the Shore. Molly serves as secretary on the Dickens Council, where I, of course, hold the VP seat," Bridget spoke clearly towards the camera, and Molly wished for a fraction of her confidence. "Thank you so much for being here today Molly."
"Uh, yes," Molly stammered as the room started to spin. Just me and Bridget.
"Please, tell the audience at home why you are here today."
"Right, um," Molly's mouth felt like sandpaper and she took a sip of the coffee. Just get it over with. "We need a new Santa Claus."
Bridget stared at Molly as though she was waiting for her to say more. Molly sat blankly across from her. "Yes, do you care to elaborate?" Bridget smiled and Molly returned the grin. Molly's palms were so sweaty she feared she would drop the coffee, so she slowly placed it back on the table. Deep breath.
"Our old Santa and Mrs. Claus had to move suddenly. The Boughmans, and so I volunteered to be Mrs. Claus for Santa's Workshop at the Dickens Village. We still need a Santa. If someone could volunteer, that would be great," Molly spoke so fast her words blurred together into one long word. She got to the of her sentence and slammed her mouth shut, staring into the camera.
"Right," Bridget said after a moment's pause, but never dropped her smile. "Thank you Mol-"
"Oh!" Molly clapped her hands together. "I almost forgot, if you are a couple and want to do Santa and Mrs. Claus together, that's fine too." She smiled what she hoped was a dazzling expression like Bridget's. But when Molly played the news report back that evening, she would see that she looked more like a deranged woman and less like the glamorous newscaster. "What I mean is, if you really want to be Mrs. Claus, I'll let you."
"Thank you Molly." Bridget put her hand on Molly's knee and patted it. Molly slumped back in her chair. Her part was over. She let out a huge sigh of relief.
"You're still on the camera Molly," a voice said in her ear, and she flinched as she remembered the sound manager placed the ear piece in right before she sat down. "Molly, personal choice here, but you are still on camera and you are pretty much laying down in your chair."
>
Molly flung herself to a straight seated position, as her leg reached out and kicked the bottom of the coffee table. Coffee sloshed over the edges of both mugs, but ever the professional, Bridget did not even look at Molly but kept speaking into the camera. "Volunteer hours, location, and phone number to call if interested are on the bottom of your screen. Remember, whoever volunteers will get to spend many many hours over the next month with this beautiful woman right here."
Molly raised her hand in a little wave. The old fashioned corded phone in front of them began to ring, and Molly felt an edge of excitement. Who would volunteer? Would it be someone who loved Christmas as much as she did? She hoped it was someone she got along with already, that would be great.
"Yes caller, you are on the air with Bridget and Molly here on On the Local." Bridget lifted the phone and laid it down on the table. The caller's voice filtered in through the ear piece, and Molly assumed what she heard was what the people at home heard too.
"Molly? Molly dear, this is Annette Gunderson," an elderly woman said. She was one of Molly's regulars, always coming in to purchase gifts to send to her family.
"Yes Annette, this is Molly," Molly answered. She felt a little confused, why was this woman calling her while she was on the show?
"Molly, where are the Boughmans going?" Annette asked, and Molly's jaw went a little slack. It was not really her place to announce on television that Mrs. Boughman was sick. Maybe not everyone knew already. "Are they moving in with their son? You know, he lives in Florida, and he is a doctor. If only he had not moved away, Molly, he would be such a catch for you-"
"Thank you Mrs. Gunderson," Bridget interrupted to Molly's complete relief. Molly knew she loved drama and excitement, but Bridget also was of the opinion that she was a serious journalist. "Mrs. Gunderson, if I could just have you call the Boughmans. Do you have their number dear?"
"No I don't. I put everything in this cell phone, and then my terrier drug it out to the lake and dumped it in!"
"Okay, please hold Mrs. Gunderson, and I will transfer you to their house then," Bridget said in a patient voice. Molly felt her face reddening. If people had not been paying attention to the report before, they were bound to be paying attention now.