by Devney Perry
Molly laughed. “That’s it. What were you expecting?”
“I don’t know. I think I like tearing stuff out better than planting.”
I clapped him on the shoulder. “The next time I need an extra hand on a demolition job, you’re my guy.”
“Yes.” He fist-pumped. “Mom, can I go to the park?”
“As long as your sister goes too.”
Max’s eyes snapped to Kali. “Pleeease come with me.”
“Sure.” She smiled and stood, brushing dirt off her bare knees.
Molly tapped the watch on her wrist. “Don’t stay too long. It’s almost dinnertime.”
“Okay, Mom.” Kali nodded before she and Max took off for the gate in the fence.
“Hold up,” I called, pushing off the ground. Then I caught up to them before they disappeared down the neighborhood trail system that led to a playground. “I’m heading home soon.”
“Oh.” Max’s frame slumped. Kali wouldn’t make eye contact with me.
“How about a hug?”
They both rushed me, latching their arms around my waist like they were drowning. I put a hand on each of their heads. “Love you, guys.”
“Love you, Dad,” Kali whispered.
Max just hugged me tighter.
Behind us, Molly stood with her arms snaked around her waist and her gaze pointed anywhere but at us.
We’d talked last night about how this would go. Molly didn’t want to make a big deal about it. She said we’d treat it like any normal day. I wanted to work in the yard. She needed to do some house cleaning. Then when the day was over, I’d go home.
Normal. Routine. Miserable.
“See you guys in a couple days.”
Max nodded against my hip.
Kali pulled away and ducked her head as she swiped at her eyes. “Come on, Max.”
He squeezed me one last time then let go and bolted for the fence.
I watched as they sprinted down the path, their tennis shoes pounding on the packed gravel as they ran. It was a punishing run, like they were both taking their frustration with their parents out on the gravel.
I waited until they were out of sight, then I turned and walked toward the house.
Molly met me on the way and I held the patio door open for her to go inside. The house smelled of bleach and lemon. My cleaning service used the same products as Molly, per my request, but they didn’t smell the same.
This smelled like home.
“Can I help you pack?” she asked, toying with the hair ties on her wrist. Today’s were coral and yellow. Neither went with her outfit, but that was what I loved about them. They were always bright.
“No, I’m good. I just need to clear out the stuff from the bathroom and I’ll be set.”
She nodded toward the kitchen. “I’ll just finish in there. Say good-bye before you go?”
“I will.” I went to the guest bathroom and packed up my leather toiletry case. The sound of running water came from the kitchen.
Fuck.
This was harder than it should be. I had a home, a life to get back to. A single life. A life I’d been living for six years. A life I’d told my sister I wanted to ruin, but here I was, rushing back into it.
The past two weeks had been strange. With school in full swing, we’d spent most of our nights helping kids with homework. We’d had dinner together, watched TV if there was time or played a game. And through it all, Molly and I had existed in peace.
Something unexpected had happened since that last fight. It had been calm. Quiet. Like the angry ghost had curled up in its grave to finally rest.
We’d gotten along after the divorce, but this was different. This wasn’t simply a sense of civility or friendship. This week had been . . . easy. It was all out there. The wounds were exposed to the air and they were closing up.
Years too late.
“Finn?” Molly called.
“Yeah?”
“I’m going to grab the mail.”
I hung my head. “All right.”
There was one more letter. One I’d written at the time of the divorce. I’d been walking on eggshells, expecting it to come.
I hoped it would be today. That when I left, we’d be done with them for good.
I quickly finished packing my stuff then went into the guest bedroom and zipped it all into my suitcase. With it loaded and a bulging backpack slung over my shoulder, I made my way to the living room and put them both next to the couch.
Then I waited for Molly to come back inside, holding a stack of envelopes in one hand, a single envelope in the other.
“It came?”
“It did.” She crossed the room and extended the letter. “Here.”
“Go ahead.”
“No, it’s okay.”
I took the envelope from her hand. “I thought you wanted to read them.”
“I did. I don’t need to anymore.”
“Why?”
She gave me a sad smile. “Because you finally told me how you felt.”
If nothing else, that had made writing these letters worth it.
I tore into the envelope, pulling out the single sheet of paper. A sharp sting hit my chest as I remembered how I’d felt that day. Six years later and it was still hard to believe we’d quit each other.
“Here.” I held out the letter, but Molly shied away. “It’s raw. But . . . it’s real.”
“Okay.” She took it and read it over. “Wow.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I feel the same way. We gave up on each other.”
“How?” I asked. “How did that happen?”
“I don’t know. The days got so hard. We stopped fighting for each other and fought for ourselves instead. In the end, I think it—us—got to be too much and we gave up. I’m sorry.”
I hated hearing those words from her mouth. It seemed like she’d said them so damn much. “Can you do something for me?”
“Sure.”
“Don’t apologize to me anymore.”
“Huh?”
I took the letter and crumpled it into a tight ball. “This letter is bullshit. Well, half of it. You didn’t quit me. I quit you. I haven’t said this enough, but I’m sorry. I’m so damn sorry, Molly.”
She stared at me for a few seconds, then she closed her eyes. “I think we’ve apologized plenty. Maybe we could both stop.”
“Not quite yet.” I stepped closer and took both her hands in mine. “I’m sorry. For pushing you away after Jamie died. For putting Alcott above our marriage and using work as an excuse to hide from my feelings. For being such a fucking asshole to you after we got divorced. For all these letters. You didn’t deserve how I treated you.”
Molly rocked back on her heels, the shock of hearing my statement written all over her face.
Which meant this apology wasn’t just necessary, it was long overdue.
I’d blamed her for our divorce. I’d given her the cold shoulder for months in the hopes of making her pay for how hurt I’d been. I’d been in so much pain it had physically hurt me to look at her.
“It wasn’t fair for me to put it all on you,” I told her.
Tears welled in her eyes. “You had a good reason.”
“No, I didn’t.” I framed her face with my hands. “I’m sorry.”
A tear fell. “Thank you for saying that.”
The distance between us was only inches but I pulled her into my chest and wrapped her up tight. I breathed in the rosemary and mint scent of her hair as she wrapped her arms behind my back.
Our embrace didn’t last long. Much too soon, Molly pushed me away. “That’s the last letter, right?”
I nodded. “That’s it.”
“Phew.” She smiled, blinking her eyes dry. “I’m glad. I can’t take all this crying. I’m getting dehydrated.”
I chuckled. “You think we’ll ever figure out who was sending them?”
“Since we’ve interrogated every person we know, I’m think
ing it’s a mystery for the ages.”
“We didn’t ask the kids.”
Molly blew out a long breath. “I don’t think it’s them.”
“Kali asked me earlier if we were ever going to get together again. It could have been her.”
“I don’t think so.” Molly shook her head. “You know your daughter, Finn. She shows everything she feels. Some of those letters were devastating to read. I don’t think she would have been able to read them and hide it from us.”
“Yeah,” I muttered. “You’re probably right. Okay . . . a mystery for the ages.”
“I’m actually glad I don’t know who.”
“You are?”
“I don’t want to know someone else’s motives for doing this to us. I’m just glad they did. We left too much unsaid. Now it’s all out there. Now we can finally breathe.”
I went to the couch and picked up my backpack, slinging it over my shoulder. “I agree.”
“I’ll walk you out.” She went for my suitcase, rolling it down the hallway behind me. “Take care of yourself.”
“I will. Same to you.” I bent to kiss her at the front door, going for her lips, but she turned her head so I got her cheek instead. I lingered there for a moment too long. It never did feel right kissing her on the cheek, not when I knew how good it felt to have her lips instead.
“I’ll bring the kids over tomorrow,” she said, taking a step away.
“Great. See ya.”
And that was it. Back to two homes. Two schedules. Two separate lives.
I took the suitcase from her hand and left. The ramp the Alcott guys had built for my chair had been removed this past week. Without another good-bye, I walked down the stairs to my truck. I’d driven it over the day my boot had been removed.
“Finn,” Molly called.
“Yeah.” I sighed, wishing she hadn’t called me back. I needed to go while I still could. Every step away from the house was forced. Had leaving the first time been this hard?
“Thank you for the letters.” In her hand, she’d uncrumpled the last one.
I nodded once then turned again and loaded up the truck.
She stayed on the porch, waiting for my driver’s side door to close, then she disappeared inside the house.
My heart felt like it was being ripped from my chest as I backed out of the driveway. The pain got worse as I drove across town. When I arrived at my house, it looked the same as it had when I’d left. Clean. Expensive. Lonely.
Homes in this neighborhood rarely went on sale and when they did, they were sold for asking price or above. This was the neighborhood where everyone wanted a house.
Everyone except me.
Too much had changed.
I pulled into the garage, parked, then went inside. Mom had promised the place was clean. Poppy had stocked the fridge for me. I walked through the laundry room, taking my bags to my bedroom and setting them on the comforter.
“I forgot my pillow,” I grumbled.
I’d left it at Molly’s because it was Molly’s. Except it was mine.
I took a slow tour of the rest of the place. The kids’ rooms were spotless, their beds made and ready for them to come over tomorrow for the weekend. There was a small fern on the kitchen counter—something new Mom had probably found at the grocery store. All the other houseplants were watered and thriving, and the refrigerator was indeed stocked with my favorite dishes.
Mom and Poppy must have spent an entire day cooking. It was good the kids were coming over because otherwise, I’d never get through it all by myself.
The quiet was unnerving so I went to the living room and switched on the television. I found a baseball game and sat in my recliner. It wasn’t as comfortable as I remembered.
Only one inning went by before I lost all interest in the game, so I pulled my phone from my pocket to call Poppy.
“Hey,” she answered. “Are you at home?”
“Yes, thanks for the food.”
“Sure. How are you feeling?”
“Fantastic,” I deadpanned.
“Uh-oh.” In the background, the kids were laughing and playing with some sort of toy musical instruments. “Hold on one second. Let me go to a quiet room.”
I waited, muting the TV as she maneuvered through her house.
“Okay, what’s wrong?”
“I’m not in the right place.”
“And the right place is . . .”
I rolled my eyes. “You know the answer to that.”
“I do. But do you? What happened to ruining your life?”
“That plan kind of fell apart when Molly and I got in a fight over one of the letters.” I rubbed my jaw. “It was bad. It was about her and that other guy.”
“Oh.” Poppy’s voice fell.
“She asked me if I could forgive her. I said I didn’t know.”
The other end of the line went silent. It lasted so long, I was sure I’d dropped the call. “Poppy?”
“I’m here.”
“You don’t have anything to say?”
“You don’t want to hear what I have to say.”
“No, I really do.”
“You have no right to hold that night against Molly. And shame on you if you do.”
I winced. Poppy’s sharp tone was one I hadn’t heard in, well, ever. “Ouch.”
“I’m not done.” She. Was. Pissed. “It’s time to pull your head out of your ass. Be with Molly, or for God’s sake, let her go. Please, let her go. She deserves to be happy. You both do. Be the man she needs or walk away. Because we both know she’ll love you until you tell her to stop.”
I loved her too. And I’d been telling myself to stop for years.
“Mommy,” a little voice yelled in the background.
“I’m in here, Brady,” Poppy yelled back. “Finn, I need to go and get dinner started before Cole gets home.”
“Okay,” I croaked.
“Love you. I’ll call you later. And . . . sorry. I’ve been holding that in for a while.”
“Yeah.” I had whiplash. She disconnected the call, but her words were still echoing through my quiet house.
She was right. On all points. I had no right to hold that night against Molly, not when she wasn’t holding so many of my mistakes against me.
So why was it so hard to forgive? To let it go?
I stood from the chair and went to the windows that lined the far wall of the room. Outside, one of my neighbors was teaching his son how to swing a baseball bat. I’d done the same out there with Max. I’d spent hours playing with my kids on the wrong fucking lawn.
Forgive. That’s all I had to do. I had to forgive Molly for the other man.
I closed my eyes, replaying that night in my head. I thought about her standing on the stairs to the loft, listening to Bridget run her down. She must have been devastated to see me sitting there, on the couch with another woman, not saying a thing.
I imagined her slipping down the stairs, silently retreating to her car. I bet she had fought hard not to cry because she’d been all dressed up and had her makeup done. That first shot probably went down too easy. She probably welcomed that numb feeling.
Because I’d broken her. Not just that night, but all the ones before. I’d abandoned her. I’d wrapped myself in a cocoon called work. I’d let her sit alone with a marriage counselor while I stared at the clock, knowing I was supposed to be at her side.
I’d let her down.
Me.
And in that moment, as I opened my eyes and the boy outside swung his bat too hard, missing the ball, I knew I didn’t need to forgive Molly.
I had already, years ago.
I didn’t want her to suffer or feel guilty for her actions. I wanted her life to be full of joy. Of laughter. I wasn’t harboring this load of resentment.
Molly shouldn’t be begging for my forgiveness. It was the other way around.
I needed hers.
This was all on me.
Be the man she needs or w
alk away.
Poppy, bless her soul, was so right. There’d be no more walking away. It was time to fix the mistakes I’d made all those years ago.
And I knew how to start.
I abandoned the window, walking straight down the hallway for my office. I sat in the chair, rifling through a drawer until I found a half-used legal pad. Then I got out a pen.
The first two words of my letter brought a smile to my face and hope to my heart.
Darling Molly
- LETTER -
Darling Molly,
I would be honored if you’d join me for dinner this Saturday night.
Yours,
Finn
Chapter Eighteen
Molly
“You guys are going to make yourselves sick.” I rolled my eyes at Jimmy and Randall.
Poppy stood by my side with her arms crossed over her chest. “I am not cleaning up puke. I love you both, but there are lines I will not cross.”
“I’m not going to puke,” Jimmy mumbled. The words were barely audible since his mouth was bulging with food.
Randall just shot us both a glare as he chewed. His mouth was so full, he couldn’t even close his lips all the way.
“Seriously, you are grown men. Seniors. Have some self-respect.” I handed Randall a napkin so he could wipe up the drool on his chin.
The pair didn’t listen to a thing we said. They hadn’t for the last twenty minutes. They just kept shoveling.
The counter was littered with partially empty jars. Chili. Cornbread. Cinnamon rolls. Macaroni and cheese. Apple pie. Chocolate mousse. Banana bread. Why? Because they were having an eating contest.
“If you stop this right now, I’ll name an item on the menu after both of you,” Poppy said. She’d been trying to bribe them since before this disaster had even begun. First, she’d offered to give them an extra dessert—on the house. Then she’d offered two desserts. Normally, sugar incentives were all it took to get these two in line.
But today, they were on a mission to one-up the other. I wasn’t sure exactly what had sparked this particular battle, but I’d overheard some grumblings and the name Nan more than once. Nan was probably a new resident at The Rainbow who’d snagged Jimmy’s and Randall’s attention, and this contest was some manly show to determine who would get to pursue Nan’s affections.