Tangled Up in Daydreams

by Rebecca Bloom

  The idea for the collection—or really the theme for all her work—came to her at the end of last summer when Liam and she had gotten back from their post-tour road trip and decided to move in together. The moving in thing had been Liam’s idea and Molly hadn’t remotely seen it coming. Even after Molly’s minor flip-out at the diner—the rest of their time together had been amazing—she wasn’t thinking about taking such a new leap. For her, spending all those weeks of concentrated time nurturing their relationship, indulging each other, and reconnecting was enough.

  They pulled into Molly’s apartment complex driveway and Molly hopped out of the car to begin unloading her stuff.

  “Babe, this may take a while.” Eyeing the trunk. “Everything has exploded and intermingled.” She tried to see where to begin.

  “Let’s just leave it like that.” Liam joined her by the trunk.

  “What do you mean?” Trying to pull out her black Kate Spade travel bag. “We can’t just leave all this stuff in the car.”

  “No, I mean, let’s just leave it intermingled. Let’s leave it all together.”

  “Are you planning on living out of my trunk?” She laughed at him.

  “No, but we should plan on living out of our place.”

  Molly stopped pulling at bags and looked at her boyfriend. She stared at him carefully to see if she could figure out what the heck he was implying.

  “Our place?” she repeated.

  “Yes. I think we should find a place together. No more separate apartments, no more ‘Your bed, my bed, where should we sleep tonight?’ conversations.”

  “You want us to move in together? Really?”

  “Really. I love you and the fact that we didn’t take steak knives to each other or leave each other in the middle of the highway after spending so much time together in a confined space proves we are ready for this.”

  “Okay.” Surprising herself with the lack of hesitation.

  “Okay? That easy?”

  “Yup. I think so.” Kissing him.

  “Thought I would have to do a little more dancing to convince you.”

  “Maybe if you had asked tomorrow or yesterday I would have hedged, but fuck it.” Shrugging her shoulders. “Can’t always be so cautious, sometimes maybe it’s about jumping in.”

  “That’s my girl!” Kissing her again. “Molly, this is going to be great.”

  “It will.” Hugging him. “But only if we keep my bed, yours is really uncomfortable.”

  “It is not!”

  “Baby, when did you buy that bed?”

  “When I moved here, it’s practically new.”

  “Almost ten years new! My bed or the highway.” Laughing at him.

  “Fine. You drive a hard bargain, missy.” Kissing her back.

  They stood by the open trunk making out like hormonal teenagers for what seemed like forever. It wasn’t until a neighbor honked that they separated.

  “We still have to unload the car.” Molly giggled.

  “Let’s just do it later. I have a better idea of how we can spend our time.” Hopping back into the car and pulling it into Molly’s spot.

  A few days later, they found their three-bedroom, two-bath apartment on Sycamore. When Molly unpacked all her boxes, some of which had not been opened in years, she found an old music box of hers from when she was five. Inside were old velvet ribbons, a tiny ballerina charm made out of copper, a pendant of ballet shoes, a picture of her and Helen, a dried rose from her first recital, and five loose ruby-red shiny crystal beads. It was an artifact from a special, more innocent time. Molly wanted some of that innocence with her and decided to try and incorporate the contents into a necklace. She knit the ribbons together to make them stronger, slipped on the pendant and charm, glued the rose petals onto the photo that she had mounted on a piece of leather, and tied the beads all about. Although it was crude, every time she felt the weight of the totem on the pool of her throat she felt more connected to the girl she had been and the woman she was becoming. It was a moment of clarity, for she could finally articulate what she wanted her art to say. This was the feeling she wanted to capture. Something beautiful and new but completely tinged with the memories and comfort of the past. She wanted to infuse her work with the joy and determination a little girl has when she takes the time to create a little memory box, fill it with hair from her first short haircut, a card from the tooth fairy, or maybe even a jack she got with her dad from that penny candy reward game in a Reno diner. Her work was driven by the need to not forget the past but to bring it forward and make it part of the present and future. She had never before considered that her means toward personal expression would take root in making jewelry, but somehow it just made sense. It was small, easy, related to fashion, and had a short distance between conception and completion.

  The first few necklaces she made weren’t perfect. She collected odds and ends from friends and worked hard to figure out how to unite the disparate materials. The more she made, the more refined and precious the finished products became. She took basic jewelry casting at a UCLA extension class, and, coupled with her art school background, was soon creating her own charms and findings to mix in with what she found. Jay utilized her first-year business school knowledge to help her incorporate, name, and brand her business. Molly chose Annabelle as the name for her line. It was old-fashioned, feminine, catchy, and happened to be her middle name. Henry helped her legalize everything and she was on her way. Everyone, even Liam, offered their expertise to get her up and running. He had helped her make her first “stranger” sale. He had been conveniently working on a few new demos with a producer who also happened to be working with a young songstress on her second album. Liam flirted and wooed, did a number on her, and soon Molly’s creations were gracing the songbird’s neck on the cover of Rolling Stone. He used all his connections to maintain Molly’s momentum. He also helped organize her first big sale/show in the garden of his friend Elliot’s restaurant. Molly remembered that afternoon well. Again, another series of swooping highs and mind-numbing lows.

  Molly worked for a solid month beforehand getting things ready. She wanted everything to be perfect since this would be her first chance to get the kind of major exposure that could fully launch her career as a jewelry designer. Every piece slaved over, every display agonized over. Liam and she ran around town collecting stools, tables, fabric, mannequins, and various sizes of trunks to create the space. Molly wanted people to imagine that they were walking into a large-scale music box. They had an old tailor’s mannequin dressed up in a pink tutu and pink toe shoes that they rigged to spin like a dancer, and mirrors everywhere to reflect the gems of her pieces like prisms. With the roses in bloom and champagne for everyone, it was going to be a fabulous event. Sure, it cost Molly an arm and leg to buy all this stuff, but it would hopefully pay off tenfold.

  The afternoon started off exactly as planned. Molly and Liam’s friends fluttered around oooing and ahhhing over Molly’s work. The turnout was huge, with many little starlets whipping out their checkbooks and fastening the goods onto their bodies immediately after purchase. Liam had his publicist do a little magic, and a photographer showed, as well as a reporter from a small but well-known alternative fashion magazine. Pictures were snapped, information exchanged, and Molly was on cloud nine. In a lull, Liam came over to her and handed her a glass of champagne.

  “A toast to my beautiful, talented girlfriend.”

  “Thanks.” Taking a sip and kissing him. “Thank you for everything.”

  “My pleasure. I really am proud of you. I told you everything you’ve been working on in the last few months would come together. It was just about finding your niche. And if an up-and-coming rock star can’t use all his connections, and all the people he pays to further his career, to facilitate his love’s coming-out party, then who can?”

  “Rock star, huh?”

  “Well, the emphasis is on the up-and-coming.” Kissing her cheek.

  They laughed and fl
owed back into the party. Molly made a few more sales and her face became stuck in perma-grin. Nothing could topple this moment.

  Then, just within earshot, Molly could hear a loud voice. One that rang high above the din. It was drunk and belligerent and kept rising as seconds passed. Molly turned her head to see Elena and Zander holding court at a small table. Two empty bottles and a third half full sat in the middle and all the flowers that had been the centerpiece were shorn of their petals and lying like corpses on the brocade cloth. Three others surrounded them, all with various subculture accoutrements of style. They were a scary group of those hipper-than-thou cool kids that immediately intimidated Molly even though she had dealt with them daily at art school. She gulped and edged closer to hear what they were saying. Zander’s voice bellowed above all.

  “It’s all crap. This whole thing!”

  “She would be nowhere without him.” Elena spit. “What does he see in her? All her little old-fashioned quaint ideas. It’s like she is Little House on the fucking Prairie.”

  “She must be fucking great in bed,” Zander stated, pouring some more drinks. “That has to be it because all this is just too precious.”

  “Like that’s what I wanted to hear, Zander.” Elena, giving him the evil eye. “But it must be true for miss plain-Jane to keep him interested.”

  Molly’s face went crimson and hot tears formed. Elena always knew just what to say. Liam caught her eye from across the room and gave her a big smile. She weakly grinned and turned her head, bringing her hands to her face. His look changed and he weaved through the crowd to her.

  “Baby, what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” Wiping her face. “I’m fine.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  Just then, Liam heard those same voices. Heard the things they were saying. He paled.

  “Oh, come on. I’ll be right back.” Walking over to his friends.

  Molly hurried after him.

  “Liam, don’t.”

  It was too late. Liam had rammed headfirst into the pack with a look of anger flashing in his eyes.

  “Please leave,” Liam stated simply enough.

  “What?” Zander asked.

  “Leave, all of you. Ta ta, good-bye.” Grabbing their glasses off the table and tossing them into the trash nearby.

  “Did I just hear you ask us to leave?” Elena questioned.

  “Yup.” Waiting.

  “You have got to be kidding!” Elena blasted.

  “Nope, I’m not.”

  “And that’s it?” Elena, asking.

  “Exactly.”

  “Give me a fucking break!” Exclaiming. “Zander, I think our friend has lost his mind.”

  “I agree.” Standing up. “Is this over her?” Getting angry.

  “Zander, dude, just get out of here.” Losing patience.

  “It is about her.” Starting to yell. “Everything’s about her.”

  Zander grabbed his jacket off the chair and spun around quickly. His coat caught the edge of one of the tables and before Liam could stop the chaos, half of Molly’s display came crashing to the floor. Mirrors shattered, the mannequin fell off her stand, drinks spilled, and everything fell to pieces. Zander tried to grab what he could, but instead was left standing in the middle of the disaster.

  “Dude, I’m so sor …” Stuttering. “I didn’t …”

  “Don’t bother.” Interrupting.

  “I didn’t mean.”

  “Look, just go.”

  Molly came running over and bent down over the mess. There was no holding back the tears now. She reached to collect her jewelry and her hand came in contact with a shard of glass. Molly felt a sharp pain and then a heated trickle. She looked and her hand was covered in blood. Liam grabbed her and ripped a tablecloth off to wrap around her hand.

  “Jay! Jay!” Yelling.

  Jay pushed through the crowd that had now gathered around watching the drama unfold. Elliot also came to Liam’s side.

  “Molly, are you okay?”

  “I think so.” Weakly. “I don’t think it is that bad, really.”

  “Liam, what can I do?” Elliot, asking.

  “Why don’t you get some guys to clean this up? And maybe start clearing people out of here.”

  “No problem.” Rushing. “Okay, everyone. Just a little mess but everything will be fine. Why don’t you all take your champagne and head into the restaurant? The festivities will continue in there.”

  As Elliot corralled the crowd, Molly unwrapped the cloth around her hand and looked. She felt her knees buckle and Liam caught her.

  “I lied.” She smiled.

  “Okay. I think we need to go to the hospital.”

  “I think so too.”

  “Jay, will you deal with all this? Pack up everything? Whatever?”

  “Of course. Just go and call me when you get there.”

  Molly and Liam proceeded to spend the next five hours in the hospital. Twelve stitches later, they got home. Molly felt like a wet rag. Wrung out, limp, and smelling like antiseptic. Jay was sitting with Zander and Elena in the living room of their apartment.

  “Look, I already feel like shit. I really don’t need anymore.” Molly eyed the evil ones. “Could you just leave?”

  “Molly, I’m so sorry. It was an accident.” Zander, hanging his head. “I’m really sorry. I was drunk.”

  “Fine.” Unenthusiastically. “Liam, could you get me some water and give me one of those pills they gave me.”

  “Yeah.” Settling her onto her couch.

  “Everything is fine, all the jewelry is still perfect. I put it all away the best I could and the cash box is next to your bed.” Jay, sitting next to Molly. “They helped clean up and sort of followed me back here.”

  “Whatever.” Trying to get out of her jacket. “Help.”

  Jay got Molly out of her jacket and a large bloodstain ran the length of Molly’s pink silk shirt and vintage lace skirt.

  “Why don’t we go get you changed?” Eyeing the blood.

  “Okay.” Getting up again with the hand of her friend.

  “Molly, can I do anything?” Elena asked.

  “I asked you to leave, that would be nice.” Walking to her bedroom. “I heard all the things you were saying about me.”

  “I know. I didn’t mean them. I was wasted.”

  “Yeah, you did, and that’s fine. I don’t like you much either.” Shutting the door behind her.

  Molly, with Jay’s help, stripped off the stained clothes and fell into a nightgown. Her hand ached, as did her whole body.

  “Do we know how to throw a party or what?” Molly attempted a smile.

  “A total showstopper.” Sitting next to her. “One that will not be forgotten in a while.”

  “How bad was it?”

  “Pretty bad, but …” Leaning over and grabbing the cash box. “You made bucks, baby!”

  “I did?”

  “I think you had only eight pieces left, and they are doing one of those who’s who party pieces in the magazine.”

  “Oh great, before or after the big finale?”

  “Does it matter? I think it made it more of a scene. Kind of performance art. I also wooed the photographer a little to make sure that there were no pictures of you know who used. No sense in them getting the press.”

  “Thanks. He was kind of cute. Dug the shaved head and retro glasses.”

  “I know, me too. We have a date Wednesday.”

  “Go you. Even if that were the only good news you had for me, I would say it was a success!”

  There was a knock on the door and Liam opened it slowly.

  “Hi. Here’s your water and medicine.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I’m going to take off.” Jay, getting up. “Call me if you need me. I’ll be around in the morning to help reorganize.”

  “Thanks for everything.”

  Jay slipped out of the room and Molly could hear the door lock behind her.

  “T
hey left.” Lying down next to her. “They both are really sorry and sheepish.”

  “I don’t really want to talk about them anymore. Actually, I kind of don’t really want to talk about them ever again.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault your friends are assholes and hate me.” Curling into him the best she could.

  “They don’t. They’re just jealous.”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “It does to me.”

  “Maybe it’s time you made a choice.”

  “I think I already made it.” Curling around her and holding her tight.

  Molly traced her finger along the scar on her hand. Another wrong choice Liam made the other night. The decision to spend time with old friends, old friends who brought out the worst in him. Were all the things he said to her made of cotton candy? Yummy, fluffy, and devoid of any nutritional value? Nothing seemed to stick with him—why should she? Molly set everything on her desk and stripped off her cotton black pants, red tank top, and black jog bra. She jumped into a hot shower, dried, dressed, and headed to the kitchen to grab a coffee before she took off for the restaurant. She picked up the phone, checked messages, made some calls, and finally, dialed Jay’s cell.

  “Hey, it’s me.”

  “Molly, I was just thinking about you. I’m on my way to get waxed.”

  “Okay, that’s a little weird.” Starting to laugh as she poured herself a mug. “You’re thinking about me as you head to the waxer. Yuck.”

  “That didn’t come out right.” Laughing with Molly. “I just ran into Stolen Memories and picked you up some great old lacy ribbon. Annie had it held behind the counter because she knew you would love it. I’m putting it in the mail later.”

  “Thanks. Sounds great. I got the box by the way.”

  “And?” Jay asked over the cell static.

  “And what?”

  “Should I go find out details? Take pictures? Do whatever?”

  Having gained some confidence in her business, Molly had recently been entertaining the idea of opening up a work space/shop to make and sell her wares. Jay, having just graduated from UCLA business school, was keen on stepping in and capitalizing on Molly’s talent. She already had taken over all of Molly’s sales, orders, et cetera, acting as Molly’s representative. Jay was eager to turn this mom-and-, well, mom operation into a bigger business. If Molly was unwilling to totally commit before Liam’s meltdown, now she was unable to even toy with the notion. Jay’s plan for her to be the next Me & Ro was going to have to wait. Molly couldn’t handle anymore big changes. She was full.