by Vivi Holt
After the kiss, they’d eaten Chinese food and talked for hours. When he drove home, he realized they’d never actually discussed where they stood. From his perspective, everything was different between them, but maybe it wasn’t for her. He wished he’d raised the subject, because ever since he hadn’t been able to work up the nerve. He’d begun considering all the implications for them if things did change, what it would mean for the family and for him, and it made him nervous.
The drill ran as planned, and he was happy with the results. He still had recommendations, but in general the Wisconsin team had done a stellar job, and he knew that with a few adjustments they’d be equipped to manage any crisis. He returned to his hotel room in Milwaukee just as the sun set, ordered room service and took a hot shower.
By the time he was seated on the bed with a tray of food beside him, his eyes were heavy and his body ached with the kind of fatigue that came from a day’s work well done. He reached for his phone as he chewed the last French fry and dialed Molly’s number. She answered with a breathy voice. “Did I wake you?” he asked.
“Uh … yeah, but it’s okay. I’m glad to hear from you.”
“You’re in bed early.”
“I think I’m coming down with a cold.”
He frowned. “I’m sorry to hear that. I wish I could bring you some chicken soup.”
She chuckled. “You can’t?”
“I’m in Milwaukee right now.”
“Oh.” A long pause. “Did I know that?”
He settled down in bed, searching for the right words. “No, sorry – I forgot to tell you.” She didn’t say anything. “What have you been up to –” She sneezed, and he pulled the phone away from his ear with a grimace. “You sound bad.”
She groaned. “Please come back and put me out of my misery.”
“Is Vicky there?”
“Yeah, she’s taking care of me. Don’t worry. What are you doing in Milwaukee?”
“Another emergency-services drill. We’ve got two more days, but I’m ready to go home now.”
He could hear her smile on the line. “Well, the party’s all organized – next Saturday at noon at my parents’ house.”
“And have they been talking to Mom?”
“Our mothers have been speaking on the phone every day, and yesterday they even met for coffee to go over the details.”
“Wow. It’s actually working. If we can just get our dads talking, we’ll be home free.”
They spoke for a few more minutes about the party, and Tim found himself enjoying the conversation even when it was about bunting, flowers and finger food. Still, a question burned inside him that he couldn’t ignore any longer. “Molly, can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“That kiss the other night …”
“Uh-huh.”
“It changed things. At least for me.”
Molly sighed. “Me too.”
That was a good sign. “I don’t want us to just be friends pretending to be married any longer … I want more than that.”
“I do too.”
Her words sent a bolt of electricity through him and he grinned. He’d hoped she would say that, but hadn’t been certain. “You do?”
“Yeah – I’ve been feeling that way for a while. It wasn’t the kiss that changed it for me.”
He took a quick breath. “I didn’t know that.”
“Well, I’m glad you told me. It helps me …” She sneezed again. “Sorry … helps me understand where things are between us.”
“I’m really glad. I can’t wait to see you.”
“Yeah, me too. I keep thinking about … more kisses.” She chuckled.
His heart skipped a beat. “I’m more than happy to provide a repeat performance. As often as you like.” He scratched absently at the stubble on his chin. “So what should we tell our families?”
“I don’t know – nothing yet. The party’s all planned and it’s our chance to get them together. If things actually work out between us, we’re going to need our families on our side.”
“Yes, but won’t they be upset when they find out we lied about everything?”
“I guess, but it’s too late for that now – they’ll be upset regardless of when we speak up.”
“Unless we go ahead and get married,” teased Tim, surprised at how warm the thought made him feel.
Molly laughed. “You’re hilarious.”
“Well, you should get some sleep. You need your rest for the big event.”
Tim hung up the phone with a grin on his face. His time in Wisconsin couldn’t come to an end soon enough – he was looking forward to getting home and to seeing Molly again. He had a feeling that this time things between them would be very different, and he couldn’t wait.
13
Molly carried a tray of deviled eggs out to the patio, eyeing her new ring as she walked. She couldn’t help smiling whenever it caught her eye. As she walked outside, she took a look around. The Holdens were all seated on one side of the porch, talking amongst themselves, with her family on the opposite side. No one was mixing. Awkward.
She set the tray on a long trestle table with a white tablecloth alongside dozens of other dishes – ham and turkey, a big tray of flaky biscuits with fried chicken folded inside, pulled pork sliders, mac and cheese in little cups with silver spoons. Every type of food she loved was laid out. Her stomach growled – she hadn’t eaten all day, being too anxious and too busy getting ready for the party.
She spotted Tim chatting with his older brother Stuart and hurried to his side. She put her hand into his, enjoying the warmth that spread through her body at his touch.
“Hi.” He smiled at her.
“Hi. Um … no one’s talking. I mean, my family and your family aren’t talking to each other.”
He frowned. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. What should we do?” He looked at Stuart.
Stuart shrugged. “Don’t ask me – I’m just here to support you.”
Molly smiled. “Stuart, it’s so nice of you to come, but I don’t think you’ve spoken to my sister Amanda yet. Come with me – I’ll help you find her.” She glanced over her shoulder at Tim as she walked off, her arm looped through Stuart’s, and saw Tim chuckling. “I know you’ve met Amanda,” she continued.
He nodded solemnly. “Yes, of course I know her, though not well. We’ve spoken a few times.”
“She always speaks highly of you.”
His eyebrows headed skyward. “She does?”
“Yes, she says you’re a brilliant editor and a kind man.”
His eyes widened. “That’s … very nice of her.”
Molly found Amanda in the living room and left Stuart there with his hands linked behind him. As she backed away, Amanda glared at her, then smiled at something Stuart said. Molly laughed to herself and set off to make more connections. If they couldn’t get their families to bury the hatchet today, they’d never be able to. This was their best chance at reconciliation.
“I can’t eat another bite,” moaned Molly, patting her full stomach. The food was as good as it had looked, and she’d stuffed herself.
“You have an impressive appetite,” laughed Tim.
She grinned. “I hadn’t eaten all day – and stress makes me hungry.”
“What are you stressed about? It’s a beautiful day. Everyone’s getting along – it’s all going to plan.” He reached for her hand and kissed it, making her skin tingle. He arched an eyebrow, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Now, if only we could get some time alone.”
Molly laughed and leaned into him, letting his scent wash over her. His breath tickled her cheek and she kissed him, hard. It took her breath away.
She heard clinking as the guests tapped spoons against crystalware. Her cheeks burned as she and Tim kissed again, then she smiled at their audience, doing her best not to be embarrassed at being the center of attention. It was such a foreign concept to her – she was usually in the background writing a stor
y about what was going on, not in the middle of the action.
As soon as the guests returned their attention to their food, she scanned the patio. Seated at tables and chairs set up throughout the backyard, under white tents and across the patio, people were talking and laughing and eating. She smiled – Tim was right. Everything was going much better than she’d hoped it would. “Look! Daddy is sitting by your father and they’re talking. Did you see that? They’re actually smiling at each other!”
Tim followed her line of sight and nodded. “That’s great. I really wasn’t sure it was possible, but there they are. I wonder how long it’s been since the two of them shared a civil conversation.”
“Not since the Dark Ages, I’m sure. And our mothers seem to have disappeared – probably in the kitchen checking on the chef and waitstaff.”
Molly felt a tap on her arm and found Vicky beside her. “They’re just about to bring out the dessert, and I was wondering if you wanted people to make speeches. There haven’t been any speeches yet and usually they happen between courses. I always thought I’d give a speech at your wedding …” Her eyes were full of hope.
Molly’s heart fell. “Um … actually, we decided not to have speeches. Sorry, Vick.”
“I know it’s not really a wedding and you’re not dressed in white, but can’t we pretend this is the reception? I just think it’d be a shame not to have any speeches – those are the things you remember later on when you’re old and gray.”
Molly and Tim had both agreed without hesitation – no speeches. It seemed even more dishonest to get their family and friends to stand up and say nice things about them, and they didn’t want to risk someone using the opportunity to blast the other family. It was a line they weren’t willing to cross. “Sorry, it’s just that …”
Molly was interrupted by a commotion inside the house. It sounded like shouting. She stood with a frown, then glanced at Tim.
He cocked his head to one side. “What’s that?”
They hurried inside and found Frank Beluga, Molly’s granddad, toe to toe with Tim’s grandfather Wallace and yelling at the top of his lungs. “You four-flushing cheat!”
“Cheat? Me? You left the Chronicle and took my staff and my stories with you!” cried Wallace, jabbing his finger into Granddad’s bony chest.
Granddad leaned on his walking cane and scowled. “They left because they were sick of eating manure. You treated your staff badly then and I bet you do the same now!”
Molly gasped and covered her mouth. This was the worst-case scenario.
“Grandpa, come on,” said Tim soothingly. He stepped toward Wallace and reached out a hand to him, but the old man ignored him completely.
“That’s a lie and you know it!” Wallace bellowed. “You’re always stretching the truth. If you can steal a story, you’ll take it. If you can’t, you’ll just make one up!” He jabbed Granddad in the chest again, making him waver.
Molly moved toward Granddad, reaching out her arms as if to catch him. “Granddad, please – can’t we take this into another room? I’m sure everyone at the party doesn’t need to hear all about it. And I know Mr. Holden’s a good man – I’m sure you can see that too if you’d just give him a chance.”
Granddad glared at her, brow furrowed. “Stay out of this, Molly dear. It’s between this two-faced liar and me.”
“Oh, that’s it! Where do you get off calling me a liar?”
Wallace’s face was bright red and Molly worried he’d have a stroke if he didn’t calm down soon. “Now, Mr. Holden, I think perhaps you should sit …”
“Don’t tell me to sit.” He scowled at her and waved her off.
“Grandpa, please don’t talk to Molly like that. She’s only trying to help.”
Tim’s grandfather caught his eye and grumbled. “Only trying to help, huh? Just like her grandfather here helped himself to half my company to start his own competing paper all those years ago, I’m sure. You can’t trust a Beluga, my boy.”
“Grandpa, don’t say that – we’re having a nice family celebration and it’s time we put the past behind us.” Tim patted his grandfather on the back and tried to lead him toward a wicker chair by the window.
But the old man wasn’t having it. “A nice family celebration?” he spat. “Is that what this is? Maybe no one else will say it, but I’m going to – you can’t stay married to her. She’s a Beluga, and everyone knows she’ll just stab you in the back. We all see it coming, boy – why can’t you?”
By now, they were surrounded by a circle of guests, all crowding into the house to see what was causing the commotion. Molly noticed her parents were pushing toward the center and she moved to join them, her throat tightening. She couldn’t believe Tim’s grandfather was speaking about her that way. She knew the families didn’t get along, but maybe she’d underestimated just how sour things were between them.
“Grandpa, that’s enough!” Tim growled.
Molly’s mother took her hand and squeezed it tight. “What’s happening, honey?”
“Granddad’s fighting with Mr. Holden,” replied Molly, a sob catching in her throat. “Daddy, do something!”
Her father frowned and stepped forward. “Dad, what seems to be the problem?”
Granddad faced his son with a grimace. “This old fart over here is causing trouble. He seems to think our Molly’s not good enough for his precious grandson.”
“Really?”
Molly heard the tension in her father’s voice and grimaced. Things were about to get much worse.
“That’s not what I said, Frank!” scolded Wallace. “There you go making things up again!”
“Because if you did, I’d have something to say about that,” Daddy replied.
Ben and Angela Holden pushed through the crowd and stood by Wallace’s side. “Everything okay, Dad?” asked Ben.
Wallace shook his head. “Nope. This two-bit yellow journalist is calling me and our family names.”
Ben’s eyes narrowed. “What’s going on, Stan?”
Dad waved his hands downward. “Nothing’s going on. Let’s all just calm down and enjoy the party.”
“We’re all on the same page, aren’t we?” continued Wallace as though no one else had spoken. “None of us thinks these two should be married. Our families aren’t suited to each other, we’re too different. It’ll never work – they should annul it now before it’s too late.”
Tears smarted in Molly’s eyes. Her heart ached – it felt so strange, so wrong, to be talked about as though she wasn’t there, like she didn’t have a say in her own life.
“Now just a moment, Wallace,” her father replied. “That’s not what any of us thinks.”
“I do,” Ben piped up. “Angela and I both do. They rushed into it without really understanding the implications. How do they think it will work when neither family likes the other? That’s going to cause tensions. I have to agree with Dad – it’ll be the downfall of their marriage before it’s over.”
Tim set his hands on his hips, his brow furrowed. “Dad, that’s really not for you to say – none of us knows the future. We just want you to put your arguments aside and try to get along for our sakes.”
“And if their marriage doesn’t work, it’ll be on you!” Dad shouted at Ben.
Molly flinched, her stomach clenched into a tight ball.
“On me? I don’t think so – this whole thing was caused by your family. If Frank hadn’t been so greedy, he could’ve stayed at the Chron and made it great. But he wanted his own paper and he didn’t care what he had to do to get it – even lying, cheating and stealing. And you’ve carried on the tradition!” Ben slapped the kitchen counter beside him.
Molly sobbed and felt her throat constrict. How could they say those things to each other? Surely they could forgive and let it go – it had happened so long ago, whatever had happened. From where she was standing, it sounded like a mountain of misunderstanding and hurt over a broken partnership, rather than anything intentiona
l on either side. She wiped the tears from her cheeks, anger growing in her belly. “Stop!” she shouted. “Stop it!”
The tenor of her voice surprised everyone, and they all stopped yelling to stare at her.
“That’s enough, all of you! You should be ashamed of yourselves, acting like children in a schoolyard. You’re still hurting from something that happened forty years ago – if you’d forgiven each other then, this stupid feud would never have happened. But now you’ve turned your whole families against each other and it’s exactly why Tim and I decided to do this –” She froze, her eyes widening as she realized what she’d said. She glanced at Tim, who hung his head.
“What do you mean, honey?” Momma asked, squeezing her hand gently.
Molly tugged it free and pushed out her chin. “We’re not married. We just pretended to be so that you’d all have to forgive each other. We’re sick of all the hatred, all the bitterness. There’s a reason we’re supposed to forgive – because if you don’t it eats you alive from the inside.”
There were gasps and murmurs throughout the group. Molly’s heart hammered and sweat trickled down her back, but she was past caring. She spun on her heel and ran from the house, out to her car at the curb. She drove away, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her whole world had been torn apart and she didn’t want to look back. She never wanted to look back again.
Molly scanned the row of vendor stalls that lined both sides of the street. Greensboro, Georgia was a quaint town, and the Southland Jubilee transformed it into a hub of bustle and entertainment every fall. She’d covered the festival annually for the past five years – usually it was one of her favorite pieces to write all year. But this time her heart wasn’t in it.
She trudged past the small square tents of the artisan stalls, her head down. They all knew her by name, but she didn’t want to be recognized. Not today – she was still deciding on an angle for the story and had no desire to socialize.
“Molly! Come on over here, darlin’.”