Molly struggled to move through the crowd, the fluidity of her transit constantly jarred. A flying elbow connected with her rib cage, and a shoulder jutted into her back. Molly’s breath was knocked from her chest. In trying to find those tiny passageways between bodies and backs, her feet were lifted off the ground. She surfed through a sea of perpetual motion handed back and forth in a rhythmic symphony. Molly was redeposited onto the sullied floor, littered with ashes and memories. A bottle cap wedged itself into her shoe. She leaned down to extract it, smearing her dampened fingers onto her already dirty jacket. Her hands now tainted with someone else’s spit.
She began shoving her way through the leather-pantsed party girls with Crayola-colored alternative hair, tube tops, and nose rings, but Molly hit roadblocks everywhere. Bouncing through the crowd like the old version of Atari Pong, she was starting to lose her balance. The flow was overwhelming. Just as she began to slip, people began nodding and smiling at her, softening the blows of the careless elbows. Out of nowhere, a short girl with cat-eye glasses, green camo army pants, Nike sneakers, and tight light blue lace tank linked arms with Molly and kissed her cheek. Jaycee grabbed her with the authority of a best friend and although she was smaller than most in that petite, waify want-to-hate-her way, she forcefully led Molly through a black door frame.
“Hey, babe. Where have you been?” Squeezing her arm and looking more closely. “Molly, you look like shit.”
“Thanks, J.” Rolling her eyes. “I was just downstairs, entertaining the troops.”
“Who would have thought so many people were going to show.” Looking at the crowd. “Liam must be happy his party is so rocking.”
“Our party, missy.”
“Sorry, it just seems like he was more into it than you.”
“That’s not surprising. Where is he by the way? I lost him a little while ago.”
“I saw him in the back about a half hour ago with Zander.”
“Fuck! Liam knows I didn’t want him here anymore. I can’t believe he invited him.”
“Well, he’s here. So is you know who.”
“How fabulous.” Getting upset. “Elena just can’t seem to help herself. You would think that by now she would just give up. Disappear.”
“Relax. It’s a party.” Giving her another squeeze. “Besides, they are probably just sitting around playing music or something. They know better than to mess with the wrath of Miss Stern.”
“Maybe.” Unconvinced. “Who are all these people anyway?” Changing the subject.
“I thought they were friends of yours.” Laughing. “You are so popular.”
“Like totally.” Smiling back. “You are, like, so lucky to know me!”
Inside Molly’s apartment there were even more people. Two couples sat entwined on the red velvet love seat, whispering into each other’s pierced ears and laughing. Along the windowsill, a series of similar hipster guys with wallet chains and tattoos downed Heinekens and passed a joint around. In the corner, sitting around the dining room table, a group of girls looked like they were bobbing for apples as each leaned down to snort lines of coke. First one, then another, arising with the all-too-familiar nose wipe and brief bug-eyed stare. Maybe this party hadn’t been such a good idea. Molly blinked hard to focus on the images before her. She knew her house was empty, so why was she still seeing people mill about? She blinked again and as quickly as they appeared, they vanished.
She was standing inside her vacant apartment feeling like a stranger in a strange land, wondering what was real. Trapped inside her memory, Molly was reliving last night down to the smallest nuance. It was so vivid, the colors were saturated, almost liquid, and the sounds vibrated like a tuning fork. Last night was almost tangible; she was living inside her own personal postcard, although this one she would assuredly not sign “wish you were here.” Every conversation was replaying, every face was smiling the same smile.
Molly took a deep breath and sat down. She ran her hands over the new burn mark on her red couch and traced the edges with her finger. She opened her little bag and pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Inhaling, a large cloud of black smoke billowed above her. So much for six months cigarette free. She brought her Camel down to the soft fabric and watched as it sizzled and burned beneath. Now there were two neat black rings on the cushion. They looked better together. Things always look better in twos. Just as Molly brought the cigarette back to her mouth a hand touched the back of her neck. Molly jumped and dropped the cigarette in her lap. A piece of fringe fizzled. She grabbed the butt and turned. Suddenly, she wasn’t alone anymore. The room was once again occupied with those from before. Music again played, laughter echoed, and conversations ricocheted. The scene only changed slightly. Now there were two girls at the table talking like Chatty Cathy dolls instead of three, and the wallet-chained men had wandered into the kitchen. Molly swung her head around the other direction to see where the hand had originated and there was Liam. He leaned down and gave her a long kiss.
“Hi.”
“Hi.” Kissing him back.
“I missed you, Molly.”
“I didn’t go anywhere.” Getting up and moving closer to him. “What have you been doing?”
“Nothing special, just chilling.” Grabbing her by the waist.
“Really?” She nuzzled into his arm. “Jaycee told me Zander and Elena were here.” Trying not to sound too bitchy.
“So?”
“So, I thought that after our past run-ins, they were going to stay away from things having to do with me. You promised me. I don’t care if you see them sometimes, but I just don’t need them circulating around our house. Bad karma.”
“I know, but I ran into him yesterday and he already knew about the party. I couldn’t tell him not to come. And Elena always follows Zander. Besides, I didn’t do anything with them, we were just hanging. He’s my friend even if he is a fuck-up, and she’s totally harmless. It’s all good, baby, don’t freak out.”
“I know and I want to believe you. But …”
“Then believe me. Don’t do this now.” Kissing her again. “Do you want something to drink?” Changing the subject.
“I don’t know.” Sighing.
“I don’t care if you do, have fun.”
“Okay, then. But just a beer.”
“Love you.”
“Me too, Liam.”
Liam walked toward the kitchen and Molly watched him. His lanky body moved with the grace of a gazelle and as he gently pushed his dark wavy hair back from his face, the subtle gesture sent chills down Molly’s spine. Just watching him move made her fall all over again. The way his body effortlessly curled and weaved through the air made Molly weak. It was like Liam lingered just above the sidewalk like an angel. Otherworldly and weightless, he traversed the distance in his own unbreakable bubble. Who knew what buoyed him, but it was this quality that drew Molly in.
He was so unaffected by the world at large. He beat to his own drum and followed his own patterns. It wasn’t as if he was making some big statement like the rules didn’t apply to him, they just didn’t. He was one of those rare creatures who always wound up in exactly the right place, knew exactly the right things to say, and made everyone else in the room feel like a million dollars. Molly knew she wasn’t the only one he touched with this power—everyone respected and watched him as he moved through life. Girls wanted him for themselves, guys wanted to be him, and even small children and parents were enraptured by his calm confidence. It was why she fell for him in the first place. He was marked with this sparkle that Molly had never encountered before and wondered if she ever would again.
She remembered the night they met like it was yesterday, even though at least two years had passed. She would never forget talking about books and music and how life needs to be lived passionately. Drinking beer on the beach, watching the waves, and kissing and kissing until she couldn’t tell whose lips and tongue were whose. How salty and crispy and perfect the six A.M. fries w
ere, and how when he pulled away she turned and watched him blow her a kiss. The tears began falling freely. Molly’s apartment was empty, again. The place that once radiated the warmth of a good home now echoed and hummed with the sounds of disappointment. Molly looked toward the kitchen hoping to see Liam, hoping he was still real. There was nothing there; she was alone.
The tissue still clenched in her hand from the cab had disintegrated into lace. The rag was not strong enough to hold even an Evian spritz. Molly got off the couch and headed down the hallway toward the bathroom to retrieve a roll of toilet paper. Maybe that would be enough to mop up her face full of tears. As she walked, hearing her boots clack against the wood floors, a cacophony of new noise bellowed. Music and laughter reverberated along the walls. The party was back in swing and voices filled the void. She ran smack into Liam.
“Hey, there.” Juggling the drinks. “Molly, you must get over this need to clobber me.”
“I’m sorry, I spaced.” Smiling at him. “Did I get you wet?”
“No, but this crashing drink thing has always been our theme.”
“How could I forget the night we met?”
“Here you go, sweetheart.” Handing her a drink. “A beer for my girl.”
“Thanks.” Taking a long sip and eyeing his bottle of water. “Is all this okay?”
“Yep, it’s really fine. Where did you just go by the way?”
“I don’t know. It was one of those daydreamy things. I guess watching you walk away and shake your butt made me fantasize.” Kissing him slowly.
“So, you like my butt, huh?” Kissing her back and pulling her into a hug.
“Yep. I fancy it.”
“I fancy you.” Kissing her again. “Am I alone in wishing all these people left so we could do it right here, right now?”
“I’m so with you. I’ve got an idea. Come with me.” Pulling him toward the back of the apartment.
“I knew I liked how your mind worked.”
Molly pulled Liam through the crowd and to the back bathroom they kept secret during parties so only one toilet got fucked up. They quickly rushed inside and locked the door behind them. Liam pulled up Molly’s skirt and she unbuttoned his pants. He lifted her onto the counter and pulled off her underwear. He kissed her hard on the mouth and ran his tongue along the edges of her lips. Molly slipped her hand up his shirt and around his back. Soon they were having sex. They had this new thing that they did every time they messed around. They kept their eyes wide open and stared at each other the whole time. The results were incredible intimacy and kicking orgasms. Even though this little bathroom tryst was a quickie, it was worth it.
“You’re so beautiful,” Liam whispered. “I love you.”
“God, Liam,” Molly breathed. “I love you too.”
“Don’t ever leave me, Molly.”
“I won’t. Without you …”
“Nothing seems right.” Finishing her sentence.
“Nothing tastes right.”
“Nothing smells right.”
“Nothing sounds right.” Molly, starting to giggle. “We are so lame!”
“No shit. Least we both are.”
“True.”
“Will you …”
Before Liam could finish his sentence, someone pounded on the door. Molly snapped back into reality and found herself alone, sitting on the toilet, holding an entire uncoiled roll of toilet paper. Molly felt the nausea attack her stomach. She turned and violently threw up into the bathtub next to her. Her body convulsed with dry heaves and tears and snot began running down her face. The putrid mess dripped onto the white porcelain. Molly reached for a crumpled towel and tried to wipe off her face. She reached over, turned on the faucet, and tipped her head into the basin, letting the cool water lap over her and rinse away the mess. She wiped it off again and left the water running as she walked to a knock at the door, where Jaycee stood in the doorway, her short hair sticking up and her face red and swollen. Without a word, she pulled Molly into a hug, and fresh tears sprang into Molly’s eyes.
“Are you okay?” Jaycee asked as she pulled their intermingled bodies back onto the couch.
“No. Not really.” Molly, wiping her nose.
“Molly!” Bursting into fresh tears too.
“Jay, please.”
“I know, I’m sorry, I just can’t …”
“Me neither.” Molly, taking a deep breath. “What now? What am I going to do?”
“I don’t know, Mol.” Hugging her again. “I can’t believe it. Again?”
“God.”
“Have you spoken to his family?”
“Yeah, earlier.” Wiping her nose. “Elizabeth and Teddy will be here tonight.”
“What exactly happened this time?” Jay, wondering.
Molly rose from the couch and walked into the kitchen. Jaycee’s voice and questions had become background humdrum like elevator music: persistent, ever present, and unneeded.
“Do you want some coffee?” Molly asked.
“What?” Following Molly to the kitchen. “Coffee? Now?”
“It seems like a good idea.” Opening the fridge and retrieving the grounds.
“Molly, what are you doing?” Trying to get Molly to look her in the eye. “Just stop a minute and talk to me.”
“Milk?” Fiddling with the coffeepot. “Sugar?”
“Molly, come on. Stop with the fucking coffee!” Jay, yelling.
As Jaycee reached for Molly, Molly reached into the cupboard and brought down two mugs. Their arms’ collision was a minor train wreck and both mugs came to a crashing accident on the floor.
“Fuck!” Molly screamed as she leaned down to clean up the broken shards of pottery. “Fuck me.” Starting to cry again.
“Shush, here let me help.” Leaning down to help her friend. “Molly, maybe you should go lie down for a while. I’ll deal with all this. I’ll have this place spick and span in no time. You need to just chill.”
“Thanks, but I don’t have time to lie down. I’m leaving as soon as I can. I have to get out of here.”
“Where are you going?”
“Home. I want to get on the road as soon as possible.”
“You should really wait and get some sleep. You’re in no shape to drive, what, like sixteen hours? And besides, what about …”
“I’m going. I have to go pack.”
With that Molly left the kitchen and walked into her bedroom leaving Jaycee holding a broken handle. In her room, Molly carefully folded and packed her things. There was something soothing in the methodical motion. Perhaps order and neatness could come to replace the chaos even if it was only in color coding her thongs and tank tops. Not really knowing how long she would be gone, she overstuffed two bags with her cream cashmere sweater with the moth hole on the left sleeve, her brown flat-front pants that looked better than all her black ones, her favorite five pairs of jeans, and her collection of rock T-shirts from concerts she had never been to. The bags barely zipped, but Molly did not want to leave anything else behind that she thought she would need. She was already leaving him behind. That was enough. She peeled off her clothes, fell into a clean T-shirt and sweats, and dragged the bags into the living room. Jaycee then helped Molly bring them to the car, and they carefully packed the trunk of her beat-up black Land Rover.
“Are you sure this is the right move?” Staring at her friend. “You really think just picking up and leaving is a good idea? I don’t really get this. It’s not going to all go away just because you bail.”
“Well, I already told his mom that I had to go for a while. Elizabeth understood.” Throwing her purse into the backseat along with her suede coat. “I have to get the fuck out of here. I can’t breathe.” Running her hand over her back.
“You shouldn’t. You need to deal with all this.”
“Maybe not.” Looking at her friend. “Jay, I’m holding on by a thread.”
“But,” biting her lip, “I don’t want you to go. I …”
“L
ook, I have to.” Getting into the car. “You know something? Last night, I think he was going to ask me to marry him.”
“Oh, God, Molly.”
“Today I should have been sleeping in, feeding him the fresh baked scones I was going to whip up, and staying in bed all day making love. Best day of my life.”
“Molly, all of that could …”
“Nope, it’s done, over. He broke it all. Smashed everything to bits. He promised me.”
“How do you know he broke the promise? You told me on the phone that Zander was driving. What aren’t you telling me?”
“Jay, I gotta go.”
“Molly.” Touching Molly’s arm. “What’s really going on here? There’s something else. I was there before, don’t shut me out now.”
“Look, please just let it go.” Staring Jaycee right in the eye. “I will call you and we can talk, but right now I just can’t.”
“Okay, fine.” Letting go of Molly’s arm.
Molly stared back at her apartment.
“We were going to be a family.” Taking a deep breath. “But I refuse to be some long-suffering wife of a magical guy who may or may not come home every night. I can’t do it anymore, pick him up, and fix everything. I don’t want to have four kids artfully named after beat poets running around the yard who only know their dad because I play them some song he wrote for me before they learned to walk.”
Tangled Up in Daydreams Page 3