“Okay, Molly, okay. I love you. Go, but just come back.” Approaching Molly and hugging her. “But I thought you wanted to name your kids after Jane Austen characters?”
“Cute.” Molly, squeezing Jaycee back. “What can I bribe you with to clean up?”
“Nothing. I’ll do it now.”
“Will you also watch the place? Get mail, et cetera?” Handing her a spare key.
“Now you are pushing it.” Smiling at her friend, trying to lighten the situation. “Call me when you get there, and give your sister-in-law a special pat on the tummy for me.”
“I will.” Shutting the door and turning the ignition. “Thanks.”
“Hey!” Jaycee banged on the window. “What should I tell him?”
“I don’t care.”
As she drove away, Molly didn’t look back even though she could feel Jay’s eyes on her as she drove down the block. Thank goodness at least Liam’s mom had understood her need to vacate the premises since Jay really didn’t. Molly was relieved not to have to really explain. She felt grateful to have Elizabeth in her life, that she had gotten to know such a unique woman was a bonus to dating Liam. Not only was she smart and vibrant, she was also the kind of woman who’d been there, done that, and never judged. It was always easy to talk with her about anything. Elizabeth McGuire was a woman much like her own mother, which is why Molly felt so comfortable around her. Put together, accessible, and eager to be better, do better, and make the world better.
Elizabeth and Liam’s dad had split up when he and Teddy were young and she had charted her own defiant path. Liam’s father went on to remarry and have another family, but Elizabeth dedicated herself to her sons and her constant need to create instead. Elizabeth was able to make a living from her sculptures, and that, coupled with a sizable inheritance from her parents, allowed her boys to explore whatever struck their fancy. She never placed importance on making money and being a buttoned-up, well-suited professional; all she wanted from her boys was a faithful striving for beauty and truth. Part hippie, part intellectual snob, and part earth mother. Molly felt instantly at home with her, and was probably also partly why she immediately felt at home with Liam. Unlike Teddy, who rebelled from his mother’s modernized sixties artist commune ideology and became a lawyer, Liam embraced Elizabeth’s ideals and passions. He acted, painted, and of course played music. All the people who filtered into his life through his mother, he quizzed, collected, and catalogued. Liam ravaged other artists or writers or chefs for their knowledge and incorporated all he learned into his own creativity.
Molly remembered the first time she went up north to meet and visit with Elizabeth. Liam and Teddy had planned a sixtieth birthday surprise for their mother, who had just moved to a new house in Napa. She was living in this old Craftsman with a large back studio. Her new boyfriend was an acclaimed chef at one of Napa’s most celebrated restaurants. With his help, the boys organized a multicourse small dinner party in the restaurant. There would be ten guests, and Molly was nervous that her first meeting with her boyfriend’s mother would be at such an important special event. It had taken Molly an entire afternoon to even pack. When Liam came over to get Molly for dinner the night before they were leaving, Molly was barely visible under a mountain of shoes and clothing.
“Molly, we are only going away for a few days.” Liam, eyeing the piles. “What are you doing?”
“Don’t ask.” Grabbing another dress from the closet and holding it against her body in front of the mirror. “What do you think?”
“It’s pretty,” Liam responded.
“Pretty? That’s it?” Tossing it on her bed.
“I don’t know. I like it, it’s fine.”
“I can’t be just fine.” Half disappearing into the back of her small but overstuffed closet. “I have to be fabulous.”
“You are.” Shoving everything aside and sitting on the bed.
“What are you doing?” Yelling at him.
“What do you mean?”
“All of that had an order, a system, and you just fucked it up!” Refolding.
“Molly, you must chill.”
“Easy for you to say.” Getting more hyped up. “I can’t go to dinner. Go without me.”
“Molly, Elliot is meeting us with his new girlfriend, Maggie. You promised. You are being a little dramatic.” Starting to laugh.
“No, I am not!” Glaring at him.
“Watch out, you may give Joan Crawford a run for her money.”
“Stop!” Trying to glare through her now forming grin. “You’re not helping.”
“NO MORE WIRE HANGERS!” Grabbing one off the bed and leaping up. “NO MORE WIRE HANGERS!”
Liam began chasing Molly all over the bedroom while Molly bobbed and weaved through the maze of accessories.
“Stop!” Molly shouted, laughing. “I mean it.”
“NO MORE!” Getting louder. “Come here, my pretty, I won’t hurt ya!!”
“Liam!” Molly shrieked.
Then he pounced. Everything fell to a large mound on the floor, and Liam began tickling Molly. They wrestled and soon Liam had Molly pinned.
“Say uncle.”
“Never!” Trying to wiggle from his grasp.
“Say it!” Pinning her hands with one of his and tickling her with the other.
“No way!”
“Uncle, easy enough word.” Letting his free hand roam up the hem of her skirt.
“Nope, do what you may, but I will never give in. Alex trained me well.”
“Really?” Moving his body off hers and moving slowly down her torso, all the while still keeping her hands pinned. “I have my ways.”
Soon enough Molly caved under his kisses, and they made love on top of the mess.
“You don’t play fair.” Molly sighed.
“I never much liked playing by the rules.” Rolling off her.
“I’m still not close to being packed.”
“How about this?” Dislodging a turquoise Chloe print chiffon dress from beneath Molly’s elbow. “I always liked this on you.”
“Where did you find that?”
Liam shrugged.
“Will your mom like it?” Sitting up and readjusting herself.
“Molly.” Pulling her back down to him. “She’s going to love you.”
“You think?” Looking at him.
“I know.” Kissing her slowly.
After that it took Molly all of about five minutes to throw her stuff into a bag. They were out the door fifteen minutes later to meet their friends.
When Molly and Liam finally arrived at Elizabeth’s house, Molly started to feel seasick again. Her stomach swelled and her lip was tender from where she had been biting. This was the very first time she was meeting a boyfriend’s parent. Molly had never done the meet and greet before. All the rest of her boyfriends had been briefish affairs or they were from places on the East Coast. This would be a first, and luckily for Molly she couldn’t have had better. Elizabeth immediately swept Molly into a hug. She could smell the gardenias on Elizabeth’s clothes and her large turquoise necklace pressed against Molly’s chest.
“I’m so glad to meet you, Molly. I’ve heard such wonderful things.” Pulling Molly into the house.
“Me too.” Letting Elizabeth lead her.
“Liam.” Turning to her son. “You never mentioned how lovely she was.” Winking at Molly.
“That’s just a bonus, Mom.” Looping himself through his mother’s free arm. “Are Teddy, Anita, and Paige here yet?”
Anita was Teddy’s wife, a poet and teacher, and Paige was their two-and-a-half-year-old daughter.
“Yeah. I put them to work in the kitchen making snacks. Paige is taking a little nap on the sunporch. Come on, we may need some extra hands.”
The rest of the weekend went as smoothly, and Molly felt right at home. Things only got better after Molly gave Elizabeth the gift she had brought. Molly had deliberated long and hard about what to give her. She wanted it to be u
nique and thoughtful, but that was difficult when you didn’t really know someone. Initially she thought about an art book or candles, but all of that seemed impersonal. Then Molly found this gorgeous leather-bound journal with heavy handmade cream-colored paper at an Italian paper store in Beverly Hills. The front was embossed with small flowers and had a long leather tie to keep it carefully closed. It was something Molly would have loved to receive. Molly also bought a set of sketching pencils and wrapped everything together in a piece of vintage silk fabric and tied it with a large satin bow garnished with a cluster of felt rosettes. The gift itself was a little piece of art and Molly’s fingers were crossed that Elizabeth would enjoy it.
“Happy birthday, Ms. McGuire.” Molly handed the package to Elizabeth.
“Elizabeth, please. And thank you. This is almost too beautiful to open.” Untying the ribbon. “You shouldn’t have.”
“I wanted to.”
“Oh, Molly, it is wonderful.” Tracing her hand over the cover. “I love it. Thank you so much.” Giving Molly a kiss on the cheek. “It’s really perfect.”
“You’re welcome. I never can have enough journals.”
“Me too. I am going to go put it next to my bed. I am about to run out of room in my sketchbook, so this will be immediately used. I am so happy you came up with Liam and shared this birthday with me. My son is a lucky man.”
Molly instantly felt lighter from the inside out. From that moment on, the two of them became friends. Elizabeth would send Molly articles she thought she would like to read, little trinkets she thought Molly would like, and after Molly began her jewelry business, beads from various trips abroad for Molly to use. Molly loved this woman, loved that she had this friendship. Molly panicked that while Elizabeth was understanding now, would it last? Would she still be there for Molly? Would this whole life she and Liam created above and beyond the two of them vanish? It wasn’t just about their connection and the bonds and promises they had made to each other. It was the friends and the family and the memories of a tight-knit group that could easily unravel. Molly’s stomach turned and she pressed her foot a little harder on the gas. She could not drive fast enough, but she should have known she couldn’t really just ride off into the sunset.
Liam was still everywhere. He was in her mind, her car. Whether it was the CDs in the changer or the pair of teal fuzzy dice slung over the rearview mirror he won for her at the street fair in Los Feliz last summer. He was everywhere, in everything. A half empty pack of light blue American Spirits, a five-year-old brown sweatshirt on the seat, dirty Nike sneakers in the back well, set lists and sheet music from his last gig, a box of Altoids, and three unread LA Weekly’s. His mess in her car was something she used to love. It made her feel attached and part of something, not just alone and floating. The first time she found something of Liam’s in her car was just a few weeks after they had met at Goldfinger’s. She was looking for a pen between the seats and came across a mint-green skinny hair elastic. As she rolled it between her thumb and forefinger, she remembered how it had flown from his hands on their first real date. They had just shared a pepperoni pizza and a few beers and were heading to a movie.
“Are you sure you want to see it again?” he asked. “We can go to a different flick or rent one.”
“No, I loved it. If a movie hits that sweet, romantic but not cheesy nerve I can see it over and over again,” Molly answered while pulling the car out.
“Well then, it will be my treat.”
“Thanks.”
“I’m not really a repeater myself. At least not in the theater. Renting is a whole other ball game though.”
“And I’m not really a renter.”
“Really? Molly, how can you not? What about the classics?” Asking in amazement.
“I know, I know. I have this huge list in my journal.”
“Well, my dear, plans have changed. Name one movie on that list and we’re going to go watch it at my place.”
“Let’s see. How about Raging Bull?”
“Done. Drive on.”
“You have a rental card, right?”
“What are we going to do with you?” Liam, laughing.
He then adjusted his tiny ponytail, and the elastic went flying. He couldn’t find it and it remained wedged until Molly retrieved it. When she put it in her hair, she actually felt a spark. Thank God she wasn’t wearing hairspray. She was turned on just thinking about the fact that she was wearing him, touching him. It was her little secret; he could now go with her everywhere. Her own Thumbelina small enough to fit in her pocket. When it finally broke, Molly stashed it in the change pocket of her toffee-colored wallet.
Now the spark had turned into an electrical fire, Molly was burning, and his stench had to go. The sweet scent of his spell had soured, contaminated by a truth Molly could not shake. Molly drove straight to the car wash. She dumped everything into the metal trash can sitting under the handheld vacuums. The sweater, the smokes, the half-written lyrics, even the broken rubber band. She wanted nothing left to let her linger. If she had had a match she would have lit the clichéd “burn your boyfriend’s stuff bonfire” despite the gas pumps nearby. She riffled through her Case Logic of CDs and searched for something that was just hers. That was a hard task. Liam had become part of her blood, coursing through her, replenishing her like water, and now she was choking. Tears welled up again and Molly barely managed to get out of the car wash in one piece. She really didn’t want to throw him away, but what could she do? He promised he would stop all the bullshit, he promised he wouldn’t leave her. It wasn’t until a few months into their relationship, when they had hit that spend-every-single-solitary-moment-together, that she really realized he even had a problem. Liam would always have one more drink than everyone else, one more hit, one more line. He was always a little fuzzier, like a Van Gogh painting.
Molly loved it at first. He was dangerous and creative. Molly always did the right thing, said the right thing. She followed the rules. Molly had one of those great relationships with her parents where she could tell them when she experimented with drugs and they would talk about them intellectually. They would ask her questions, not grill her over an open pit of hot-tongued moralism. She had proven herself responsible and they trusted her. Liam brought out all that smoldering rebellion dormant within her. Initially, before she realized how symptomatic it was, they would occasionally stay up for days doing coke and talking about the most interesting things Molly had forgotten. It was as if they needed all those extra hours of awake time just to share and catch each other up on everything they had been and done before they met.
“Who was the first person you knew you hurt?” Liam asking her while wiping his nose.
“What do you mean?” Reaching for the tightly rolled bill.
“What was the first knowingly mean thing you did to someone else? The worst thing you ever said?”
“Why do you want to know? I don’t think I want to tell you.”
“Molly, I love you. Nothing you can say will change that. I want to know everything about you.”
“What did you just say?” Sputtering out the water she just drank.
“I want to know everything because I am falling in love with you.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, really.”
“You are the first guy to say that to me without prompting.”
“Well, I’m glad.”
“I think I love you too.” Leaning over and kissing him.
“You think?” Looking at her in mock horror. Or maybe it was real horror, and that made Molly sure.
“I know I love you.” Kissing him again. “Worst thing, huh? I don’t know if I have one.”
“Molly, you are sweet but everyone has one.”
“Fine.” Snorting another line. “I kissed my boyfriend’s brother at the junior prom.”
“You naughty thing, you.” Laughing. “Did he ever find out?”
“No, we did break up shortly after, but I never told him
. Why bother if it was already ending.”
“Why did you do it?”
“I think I was just excited about being wanted. Kevin was my first sort of high school boyfriend and it was a shock to me that he actually wanted to be with me.” Getting up and getting another glass of water. “I was such a nerd, you know, braces, no boobs. I had a guy into me and when another, even if it was his brother, dug me too, I just went with it. I was overwhelmed by my own need to be wanted. Very egocentric, I know.”
“And now?”
“Now what?” Sitting back down. “Did I make out with Teddy when he was visiting?”
“Very funny. No, are you still that girl?”
“Boobless?” Eyeing her chest. “Don’t think so, thank God.”
“Stop.” Liam laughed. “Seriously.”
“Yeah.” Getting a little quiet. “Sometimes.”
“Do I ever make you feel insecure?” Putting his arms around her.
“No, I just sometimes am that sixteen-year-old nerd who feels awkward and lame, and I wonder how in the hell I got lucky and got you.”
“I don’t see it that way. I don’t see you that way. I got lucky and got you.”
He paused a minute and took her in. Molly shivered, overwhelmed by his gaze. “Molly, your honesty blows me away every day,” he said quietly.
Molly pulled the car over, flipped open the door, and threw up. How was she supposed to move on, move past this? Even as she remembered an example of how drugs snaked through their lives, she put a romantic spin on it. Would she be permanently under some emotional voodoo curse? Under the influence of something? It was as if Liam were a stomach parasite, and Molly couldn’t completely purge him. He was her phantom limb. The ache that constantly throbs. The thing you miss even when you think you have everything you need.
All the guys before Liam had always had parts and pieces of what she wanted. Things that would compliment her and make her feel whole. She always fell fast and frantically for those who offered a smidgeon of what she lacked, what she missed inside. The high was in what they made her see in herself. Their wanting was her mirror. Lucca wanted passion and spontaneity, while John wanted consistency and stability. But when Liam walked toward her that night in the bar, it was the first time she felt whole within her own skin. He was his own man, and he loved her because she was her own woman. They made a bigger whole. They looked into the mirror together. Now Molly felt like a half for the first time in a long time.
Tangled Up in Daydreams Page 4