“His name is Lucas. He died when he was a year and a half old. He was my little boy.”
“Oh! How sad. What happened?” Molly asks. Again, I stop Fletcher before he stops Molly’s questions.
“A very bad man gave him some illegal drugs.”
“Is that man in jail?”
“Yes, he’ll be in prison for a very long time.”
In an act that leaves me absolutely startled, Molly encircles her arms around my waist and hugs me tightly. “I’m so sorry that your baby died, Miss Savannah.”
Stunned, I slowly allow my arms to fall around her, and I gently hug her back. Her hair smells like fresh strawberries, and is soft as silk. Is this what it’s like to have a little girl? I tighten the embrace.
“Thank you, Molly.” Gently kissing the top of her head, I finally release her from the embrace. “So, where are we going tonight?”
“Uncle Fletcher says that I get to pick the movie and you get to pick where we eat. That’s the deal we came up with, anyway.”
“You two seem to have some pretty interesting conversations,” I comment.
“Oh, we do,” Molly says, sounding way older than her twelve years.
“What movie are we seeing?” I ask.
“Buzz Saw Massacre!” Molly says, excitedly.
“No,” Fletcher says.
“College Dorm Party III?”
“Nope. Try again.”
Molly huffs a sigh. “You know, I’m not a little kid anymore, Uncle Fletcher. I’m practically a teenager.”
“Practically, and actually being a teenager are two different things. Plus, even if you were of age, I wouldn’t be the person you’d watch those movies with.”
“Well, since Uncle Fletcher has fallen a gigantic notch in my cool people rankings, I guess we’ll have to see Secret Princess.”
“Sounds perfect. I’ve wanted to see that movie for a while, but I didn’t have anyone to go with,” I comment.
“Really?”
“Yep, I’m really glad you picked that one.” I move closer to whisper in her ear, “Plus, imagine how funny Uncle Fletcher is going to look watching a princess movie with a bunch of girls.”
Molly laughs while nodding emphatically, and Fletcher sends me a questioning look. I simply shrug my shoulders and move towards the door. “Ready to go?” I ask.
“Sure, but I’m not really liking the fact that I’m outnumbered here,” Fletcher jokes.
“Oh, you’ll get over it. How about we get pizza for dinner?” I ask.
“Pizza! Yay! My favorite!” Molly sings.
“Then pizza it is,” Fletcher says, shutting the door behind us. “I want to know what you two were whispering about later,” he softly mentions as we walk down the hallway together.
“No way. It’s a girl thing,” I say, picking up my pace to match Molly’s. Fletcher’s laughter resonates from behind us.
I smile more on this day than I probably have in my entire lifetime. We laugh through dinner, we’re amused by the movie, and we spend the ride home discussing our next possible adventure. I don’t want it to end, so when Fletcher asks if I’d prefer to be dropped off first or if I’d like to ride with him to Julia’s to bring Molly home, I opt to go with him to Julia’s. Big mistake.
There are huge smiles on our faces when we arrive at the quaint brick house with a neatly manicured yard. The smiles instantly dissolve when a scowling Julia opens the front door. “You’re later than you said you’d be,” she fusses, opening the door wide enough for us to pass through.
“We had such a good time, Momma! Uncle Fletcher and Miss Savannah took me to eat pizza, and we saw Secret Princess, and then we played games at the arcade. That’s why we’re a little late. I kept winning!! Uncle Fletcher said I had to stop though, because we had to get home. I really wish I could have stayed longer. Look at all of the stuff I got!” She holds her bag of candy and trinkets high in the air as if she’s showcasing the world’s finest jewels.
“That’s nice, Molly. Go get ready for bed,” Julia says in monotone. Fletcher remains stone-faced, while I feel incredibly awkward and out of place.
“Can Uncle Fletcher tuck me in? Please, Momma? Please?”
Julia sighs heavily. “I suppose, Molly. Go on, now.”
“I’ll be right back,” Fletcher says with an uncomfortable smile. I nod, unsure of what to do. Should I sit in the truck? Just stand here and wait for him?
“You want some coffee?” Julia asks. It is a general statement thrown out in the air, so I’m unsure if she is speaking to me. When I realize she is, I accept.
“Only, if it’s no trouble.”
“It’s no trouble. Follow me.”
We walk down a hallway filled with photographs, some the same as the ones Fletcher displays at his place. Julia jostles a few things around, and once the coffee is brewing, she offers me a seat at the kitchen table. I accept it, and nervously begin twiddling my thumbs.
“I know I come off as cold,” Julia starts. “There’s a lot of stuff you don’t know about, and Fletcher and I… well, let’s just say that our relationship as siblings is pretty tense right now.”
“Okay,” I mutter, unsure of what my response should be.
“Does he talk to you about Brody?”
“He told me they were friends from childhood, and that you eventually married him. He’s Molly’s dad, and unfortunately he passed away.”
Julia nods. “Does Fletcher tell you anything about himself? About his time in the army?”
“I know he has scars all over his back because he was in a vehicle that caught on fire due to an explosion.”
“Figures you’d know that part.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“A big handsome guy like Fletcher. A pretty woman like you looking to score. It’s not rocket science.”
I put a warning finger in her face. “Look, you don’t know me. You know nothing about me. If you want to jump to conclusions about things that, if I’m being honest, don’t even involve you, then you do it on your own time. I don’t know what your problem is, but I’m not about to sit here and let you imply that I’m loose, a floozy, or anything of the sort. Fletcher has been nothing but a gentleman since the day I met him, and he’s so good with your daughter. You should be grateful instead of fussing or scowling at him all of the time.”
“There are things about him that you don’t know.”
“And likewise for me. There are things about me, about my past, that he doesn’t know yet. I’m no angel, but I’m not a bad person. Fletcher has done nothing to make me believe that he is anything but an honorable man, and believe me, I speak from experience when I say I know the difference.”
“Brody was driving when the bomb detonated. It killed him instantly.”
“What?”
“He and Brody enlisted together. They deployed together. They went on that patrol together.”
“Is that why you’re so mean to him? Do you blame Fletcher for Brody’s death?”
“No!” Julia snaps. “Never.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“Listen. It’s too long of a story to get into, plus, it’s technically Fletcher’s story to tell. Just promise me that if you truly care for him that you’ll be kind to him. Also promise that you’ll let me know right away if you start to notice him acting strangely. Please, promise me.”
Though I’m a little freaked out, I nod. “I’m not looking for a serious relationship, Julia. Not anytime soon anyway, so you can relax.”
“I apologize if I made you feel uncomfortable.” She rubs her face with her palms. “I worry too much. I worry about Fletcher. I worry about Molly…”
“I can understand that, but I’m not a bad person with an agenda. I promise.”
Julia releases a pent up breath. “How do you take your coffee?”
“Cream and sugar, if you have it.”
“Milk okay?”
“Yes, thank you.” She stands near the sink get
ting our mugs ready, and I see her in a different light. She’s not a snooty, bitter hag; she’s a tired, worried woman with a lot on her mind. I should have picked up on that sooner, but regardless, it’s a fresh start now. She places the mug in front of me, and I carefully draw a sip from the brim.
“I know about Fletcher’s scars because he showed them to me so I’d be less self-conscious about mine. My legs are full of them from a childhood accident, so I refused to wear shorts in public. He came to check on me after my grandfather died, and I was wearing them. I wanted to keep them covered, but... Anyway, I appreciate that he did that for me.”
Julia nods. “Fletcher’s a great man, and I wasn’t trying to scare you off. I often say things without thinking them through. Your grandfather, he died recently? I’m sorry for your loss.”
I nod. “Yeah, he was old and very sick, so it wasn’t a shock, but he was my closest family member. Fletcher helped me a lot. He stayed with me at the facility and remained with me until he knew I was okay.”
“Sounds like Fletcher,” she says with a smile.
“What’s going on in here? I heard my name,” Fletcher cautiously inquires.
“Nothing. Just drinking some coffee. You want some?” Julia asks.
“No, I’m good. Thanks.”
“And I’m finished with mine. Thank you, Julia. It was great.” I rise from my seat and place the mug in the kitchen sink.
Julia leaves hers on the table so she can walk us to the door. “You’re welcome, Savannah. Fletcher, thank you for taking Molly tonight. She loves spending time with you.”
“Anytime, Julia. I’m here for her, and you, anytime.”
Julia gives a half smile as she gently closes the door behind us. “What happened in there?” Fletcher asks once we’re in his truck. “Did you put holy water in her coffee?”
“No,” I say with a giggle. “She’s grumpy because she’s tired, and she worries a lot.”
“Is that it?” Fletcher asks. I nod. “Well, I think she needs a little vacation. If I send her away for a spa weekend, she’ll need us to keep an eye on Molly. You up for it?”
“I like the way you made this into an ‘us’ thing. And using the kid to help seal the deal? Real smooth, Fletcher.”
“What! I did no such thing.”
“You absolutely did!”
“Are you telling me you’re not interested?”
“I never said that. “
“So you are?”
“Maybe,” I say with a grin.
“I hope you know that ‘maybe’ means ‘yes’ in my book.”
“I hope you know that ‘maybe’ means ‘maybe’ in mine.”
“Too bad. My surprise, my rules,” Fletcher says as he parks in front of my apartment.
“I had a good time tonight. Thank you.”
“I had a good time, too. You’re welcome.” He comes to my side of the truck and opens the door for me, and we silently walk to my apartment. He lingers in the doorway once I get inside.
“Aren’t you coming in?” I ask.
“Nah, not tonight. It’s late, and I know you’re tired.”
“It is late. Well, late for me, anyway,” I say.
“I know. It was late for you two hours ago,” Fletcher quips. “Sweet dreams, Savannah.”
“Good night, Fletcher.” I’m all smiles as I close the door.
“Fletcher, I don’t know about this,” Julia says, nervously pacing the length of her car. Her hair is pulled back in a tight ponytail, and sunglasses are perched high on her head.
“Too late to back out. The trip is already paid for. Molly’s going to be fine. Molly, tell your mother that you’re going to be fine.”
“I’m going to be fine, Mom! Uncle Fletcher talked to Miss Savannah, and we’re going to have a huge sleepover at her apartment. We’re going to go bowling, and rent some movies, and I get to eat all the candy and junk food I can fit into my belly while you’re gone!”
“Molly, shhhh,” Fletcher teases.
Julia rolls her eyes, and pulls Molly close. “Look at me. You are NOT to eat as much candy and junk food as you can while I’m gone. Understand?”
“You’re not even gonna be here, and you’re ruining my fun!”
“Be good,” Julia says, giving Molly a kiss on the top of her head followed by a tight hug.
“Are you sure about this?” she asks Fletcher and me. We both nod.
“She’ll be fine,” I say in as assuring a tone as I can muster.
“Call if you need. I’ll have my phone with me at all times,” Julia says as she climbs into her car.
“Go! Have fun,” Fletcher insists.
“I’m going. I’m going,” Julia says, closing the door and waving as she drives away.
“What are we going to do first?” Fletcher asks, loading Molly’s suitcase into the backseat of my car.
“I’m long overdue for some pampering. My nails look terrible. I think we should get mani-pedis,” Molly says, once again sounding far older than her young age.
“Excuse me,” Fletcher asks.
“Ask Miss Savannah. Girls love mani-pedis.”
“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never had one. I just do my own nails,” I admit.
“What! Uncle Fletcher, we have to fix this right away. Let’s get to a nail place stat!”
“Stat? What language are you speaking?” Fletcher, who is obviously amused, inquires.
“Don’t you watch the medical shows? It means right away. Like now!” Molly answers with her hand on her hip and a “duh” look on her face.
“No, I do not, and I’m not sure that you should be watching them either,” he mentions.
“I’m not a baby. I’m almost thirteen, which will officially make me a teenager. That means I’m on the cusp of maturity.”
I can’t help but laugh at the dialogue going on between Fletcher and Molly. I’m not quite sure if she’s wise beyond her years or just a parrot mimicking the things she’s been seeing and hearing. Either way, it’s pretty funny.
“Cusp of maturity, huh?” Fletcher whispers under his breath. “You up for this mani-pedi thing?” he directs my way.
I shrug. “I guess.”
“Okay, tell me where I’m going, Molly.” She shoots out rapid fire directions to a little salon in the center of a strip mall. Fletcher wants to wait in the car, but Molly begs and pleads for him to come inside with us.
“Lots of men get this done, Uncle Fletcher! Please! Come on! You’ll like it! I promise.”
I bite down on my lip to keep from smiling because it’s obvious she’s chipping away at his resolve. Sure enough, he caves, and his face is priceless when he enters the salon. He turns on his heel, but a steadfast Molly blocks his path.
“We sit over there,” she says, pointing to the row of massage chairs.
“She’s right. Please, come this way. Sit,” a middle aged woman with oversized glasses and silvery blonde hair insists.
“Oh, I don’t think so,” Fletcher says, nervously eyeing the joint.
“We have a lot of male customers who really enjoy our services,” she says in a super sweet and assuring tone.
“I’m sure they do, but…”
“Uncle Fletcher, please. It’s so fun.”
He rolls his eyes. “Where do I sit?”
Molly giggles while bouncing up and down.
“You can sit anywhere you like. You caught us at a slow time,” the woman says.
“I want to sit in the middle!” Molly says, jumping into her chair. “Miss Savannah, you’ll sit here, and Uncle Fletcher, you’ll sit here.” She points to the chairs on either side of her. “Miss Savannah, we need to pick out the color we want. Come on!”
She launches from the chair to grab my hand, and excitedly, she leads me to a wall of nail polish bottles. She selects a neon yellow shade, but I’m left dumbfounded by the vast number of choices. “How about you pick a color for me?” I suggest. Molly happily takes on the assignment, and passes a bottle of flamingo
pink to me.
“Don’t you even think of bringing any of those my way,” Fletcher warns.
“I wasn’t, Uncle Fletcher!” Molly says, handing her bottle over to the brunette who will be doing her nails. “Miss Savannah, you give your polish to the lady doing your nails.”
I’m slightly embarrassed to look over and find the attendant waiting for me, so I hurry over to the seat, kick off my flip flops, and dunk my feet into the bubbling, warm water. She pushes a button on the chair and the massagers start to knead muscles that have been tense since childhood. But poor Fletcher, he looks absolutely miserable in his chair, and frankly, he looks a little silly with his jeans rolled to his knees. I give him an encouraging smile, but it doesn’t help.
“I’m sorry, Molls. You know Uncle Fletcher will do darn near anything for you, but this is where I draw the line.” He jumps from the chair as though it’s on fire. “I’m going to be right over here,” he says, scooping up his socks and shoes as he carefully makes his way to the empty waiting area.
Molly’s disappointment is evident, but it’s also very brief, as she soon diverts her full attention to me. “Miss Savannah, are you enjoying this? I can’t believe that you’ve never done this before.”
“I am enjoying it very much. Do you do this often?”
“Yeah, my mom and I have a girl’s day at least once a month. We get our hair fixed in the morning and then we get our fingers and toes done. After that, we have lunch, and if mom has the extra money, sometimes we go shopping, too!”
“That sounds like a lot of fun. You’re lucky to have such a caring mother.”
“Your mom didn’t do things like that with you?” she asks.
I shake my head. “I didn’t see my mom much.”
“Did she work a lot?” she asks knowingly. I can’t help but smile at how grown up she sounds.
“No, it wasn’t work. She just wasn’t around much.”
“Oh. What did you do for fun then?” Molly curiously inquires.
“I used my imagination a lot. I’d dream up these elaborate stories about how my life would all change once I became an adult.”
“Like what?”
“Like how I’d travel to Europe, and while touring castles, a prince would find me and we’d instantly fall in love and live happily ever after.”
Yours Always Page 10