All the Difference (26 page)

“Wait, Molly.” Jenny turned to face her on the sofa. “What are you saying?”

“I'm not saying anything.” Molly sighed. “I'm just thinking, that's all.”

“Well, stop thinking already,” Jenny said. Her voice was higher than usual. “This is Scott we're talking about. One minute he's popping out of the dark to scare you half to death, and the other he's pushing you to get back together with him. It's twisted.”

Molly didn't respond. She was staring at her daughter sleeping in the car seat with both hands resting on her small belly.

“Molly?” Jenny asked. “You have to know this, right?”

They were facing a large picture window, and the two of them sat for a moment watching a little girl ride her bike on the road below them, her father running along behind, one hand on the seat to keep her from falling. The girl giggled with laughter and pushed off even harder. The father lost his grip on the seat and slowed to a stop, watching the little girl pedal down the road without him. She squealed with glee.

Emily walked into the room before Molly could answer her friend. She carried a cup of tea and sank down with it into an armchair. She smiled at the two younger women, a tired smile that looked like it was stifling a yawn, and straightened the blanket over her sleeping granddaughter's socked feet. Molly watched her mother relax back into the seat and place her own feet, slightly swollen at the ankles in their pantyhose, on an ottoman.

“When will you be going to see Scott's parents, Molly?” Emily blew lightly over the tea in her mug and took a sip. “On New Year's Eve, if I'm correct? I do hope you're out of that party
before the celebrations really get underway. I don't want my innocent grandchild being around that family when they've had a few drinks.”

Jenny sat forward, almost spilling the wine from her glass.

“I'm sorry, what?” She looked back and forth between Molly and her mother, mouth open. “You're seeing Scott's
family
now? What, in the name of hell—why?”

Jenny caught the wan look Emily gave her. “Sorry for my language, Emily, but dear God, Molly, what's gotten into you? You broke up with Scott so you wouldn't
have
to celebrate another major holiday with his family.”

“I know, I know,” Molly said. “But they haven't met Dylan yet. I kind of have to introduce her to them, and this is perfect, because if we go early, we have your party to get to afterward, so I don't have to be there long.”

“But what are you going to do when you see Scott?” Jenny asked. “He's probably going to take it as a sign that you want to get back together.” She shook her head in shock. “I'd rather you give him a sign shaped like a good uppercut to his pretty face.”

Emily chuckled into her tea.

“I was thinking I'd probably use the chance to finalize our situation,” Molly said. “Come to some sort of . . . resolution.”

She shrugged. “Or maybe I'll just hide in the bathroom after his parents look at the baby, and then I can sneak her out through the back.”

Jenny laughed. “No way in hell, lady. I've been to the Manor, and it's too big for you to ever be able to find a back door without a tour guide, let alone get out of it. I think you're stuck.”

Molly smiled at her friend, but neither one of them could hide her apprehension about this meeting. Scott's parents had been
shocked to receive a phone call from the hospital telling them they were about to become grandparents. Molly wasn't sure who had made the call. Everyone had crowded into the labor and delivery room when she was first admitted, groaning in pain, to the hospital. Molly could only remember brief moments from the scant hour before the baby arrived. She knew that at one point she was screaming for the epidural that would never come because she was already pushing. She remembered her mother on one side of her, Jenny on the other, both holding a hand, and then a leg, guiding her and cheering for her when she was saying there was no way a baby could ever actually come out of her. She distinctly recalled Dan throwing up all over his shoes and Jack escorting him out of the room. And she remembered her baby, the baby someone's gloved hands pulled from her and placed on her chest, the infant girl who opened her eyes to look at Molly—to give her one silent, personal look to acknowledge what she'd known all along—before letting loose with a cry that announced to them all that she had arrived.

But even as Molly's family had gathered around her bedside, passing the bundled newborn around to each other like sandbaggers preparing for a storm, Molly was taking the blame in Scott's family for the pregnancy, for deflowering their son, for giving him a reputation in their community that he, by their accounts, did not deserve and would never be able to live down. Not
their
son, Monica had been heard to say. They were glad for the baby, but Molly had taken a step down off the pedestal they'd built for her. The relationship the two women had fostered over the years had been rendered as unnecessary as the umbilical cord once connecting Dylan to Molly. Molly was a mini-Monica no more. But still, Molly felt she had an obligation to one day tell her daughter that
at least she'd tried to keep some semblance of the relationship intact, that she'd put forth the effort, even if it was small because she'd hoped to get away unscathed. She owed her that much.

Jack and Dan emerged from the basement, both flushed from what had been a tight win in overtime. Dan sat down on the floor beside his newly minted goddaughter, who was beginning to rustle against the stiff fabric of her seat.

Molly focused again on her best friend, who gathered the last of the discarded plates and cups still scattered around the living room and disappeared. She emerged now from the kitchen with a cloth to wipe any leftover crumbs from the coffee table. Before Emily could tell Jenny to relax, Molly started giggling.

“So, you do housekeeping now?”

Jenny broke into a little wiggle as she worked. She was so prim in her dress and pearls, bent over her cleaning, making them all laugh.

Dan spoke up. “Man, Jen, Molly should just hire you on as a nanny once her maternity leave ends. You seem to be getting a hang of this domestic thing.”

Jenny's hands stopped in midair as she stared at her husband, the dishrag swinging from her fingers. She turned to look at Molly, who was regarding her friend with sudden interest. Jack and Emily watched them, listening.

“Huh.” Jenny finished brushing the crumbs into her cupped hand, taking her time to form her question. “Are you still on the waiting list for that day care by Rittenhouse?”

“Nope. I took Dylan off of it when I decided to come back home.”

“But you haven't been able to sublet your house yet?”

“Mm-mmm.” Molly shook her head. “The last couple who
showed interest reeked of pot and patchouli. I could smell it even before they got to the door. I don't think I'll be able to rent it.”

“That reminds me, Molly,” Emily said. “I found a sweet little antique dining set on Etsy you might love. For the future, I mean.”

She coughed and took a sip of her tea.

“Well, either way, it's great that your parents are letting you stay here with them,” Jenny said, nodding at them. “Though I'm sure it must be an adjustment for everybody.” Jack cleared his throat and smiled at Emily.

“Which we're still happy to do, Molly,” Emily said, “as long as you need us.” Molly saw her mother slide her eyes to the side to meet Jack's. He shrugged and seemed to wait for his daughter's response.

“But it's a forty-five-minute trip to work each way,” Molly admitted. “Without traffic, and only if the R5's on time.”

“Huh. That's a shame.”

“And I do feel bad to be such an imposition, though I know they love us a lot.”

Jenny smiled at Molly's parents. Molly was quiet for a moment. She saw Dan biting back a grin. “You still hating that bank job?” she asked.

“You know it,” Jenny replied. “The free lollipops don't make it any less mind-numbing.

“And it's a big commute now that you're back home?”

“Yeah.”

“Huh.”

“Yup.”

Emily startled both of them. “Oh, for heaven's sake, you two! Look, Molly, your father and I don't mind in the least having our
most precious girls living with us, you know that. But we also know that Jenny definitely has more energy than us old folks, so by all means, girls, get to it already.” She sat back in her chair with a sigh, obviously satisfied.

“Okay then, Jenny.” Molly could barely contain her grin. “So, would you maybe consider—”

“Hells, yeah, I would!” Jenny grinned and threw her arms around Molly's shoulders. Dan laughed out loud now, and Molly saw Jack pat his wife on the shoulder and kiss the top of her gray hair. “Girl, you got yourself a nanny!”

The women were still laughing at the sudden ease of their new arrangement when Jack spoke up. “And, Molly, of course, you know that your mother and I will be happy to help you as much as we can on the, um, business side of your deal.”

“You mean helping to pay Jenny?”

“Oh, that makes this even better,” Jenny said. “I get paid to hang out with Dylan!”

Molly looked at both of her parents, shaking her head. “You guys, thank you, but I should be okay, especially once I trade in my Audi and cut some expenses.”

Molly thought of her weekly grocery bill. Now that she wasn't binge-eating peanut butter–chocolate chip bagels and Nutella each morning as a result of her pregnancy, she knew she would save money there, at least. At the very least.

“I'll talk it over with Jenny.” Molly nodded at her friend. “And we'll go from there. But I'll keep you posted.”

“We do know a good Subaru dealership,” her dad reminded her.

Molly smiled at them, at Dan, at her baby, at Jenny.

“Thank you.”

Dylan had started to fuss a little, and Dan picked her up out
of the car seat, cradling her for a moment before handing her off to Molly. Emily and Jack excused themselves to the kitchen, empty tea mugs in hand.

“Okay then, boss,” Jenny said, “that's probably our cue to go. We have an early appointment with the therapist tomorrow before Dan gets to school, anyway. I'll catch up with you soon so we can finalize the details.”

“How's it going with the therapist?” Molly looked between her two friends. “If I can ask?”

“Of course you can ask,” Jenny said. “Nothing's too personal once you know about the shots I have to take in the heinie.”

Dan shrugged. “I think she lost her dignity right around the time we had a group of medical students observe her first uterine exam. At the rate she's going, if we ever actually do have a baby, Jenny'll be able to deliver in the middle of City Hall and not be embarrassed.”

It was Jenny's turn to shrug.

She turned back to Molly. “It's going well, I guess. She's helping us sort out how many of our arguments were stemming from all this pressure, giving us ways to work through the stress together. And avoid the stress altogether, too, if we can. Our homework for next weekend is to go somewhere, out of the city, by ourselves, overnight.”

“No kidding!”

“Yeah, I'm actually kind of excited.” Dan wiggled his eyebrows, making Jenny elbow him in the stomach.

“So, what's the romantic destination?” Molly asked.

“New Hope,” Jenny replied. She was referring to the sweet, tourist-filled town on the river north of the city. “Nice, right?
We're going to do a winery tour, and Dan agreed to let me take him to a play as long as he gets to choose a restaurant afterward.”

“Ha,” Molly said, watching Dan pretend to yawn. “So you're going to be eating at either a beer garden or a Sonic.”

“Pretty much!” Dan said, and placed his hand at the small of Jenny's back to guide her toward the door.

“Well, I wish you a pleasant time anyway, Jenny, Sonic or no Sonic,” Molly said, and followed them to the door, cradling Dylan in her left arm. “You guys deserve this.”

Molly was truly happy for her friends. She would have expected to feel a pang of jealousy at the idea of a couple's getaway, but all she felt was peace, which surprised her. Molly leaned against the door, watching Jenny gather her belongings. “Let's iron out the details of this whole nanny thing after you come back, then. You know already—I don't have to be back to work until the start of the new year, so we've got plenty of time.”

“Sounds good.” Jenny picked her red pumps up off the floor and slipped them on. “Now, we are off to rest up before making our therapist a hundred and fifty bucks richer!”

Molly shut the door after her friends and leaned against it for a moment. She looked down at her daughter, who had fallen back to sleep in her arms. She had six more weeks. Six more weeks before she returned to her office. Six more until she had to leave her daughter in the care of another person. It was just a short time until New Year's Eve arrived: before the annual party, before the start of a fresh year, before she had to face her baby's father. Molly placed her lips against Dylan's smooth forehead. She had six more weeks before the rest of her life could
begin.

December

Yes

M
olly tightened the wool scarf around her neck and dug her hands deep into the pockets of her old peacoat. The sharp wind gripped small pieces of ice in its bitter bite now, and when she let herself gasp in the face of it, breathing it in, Molly could smell snow in the air. She kept walking, her head held down to stave off the brunt of the gusts that whipped through the alleyways she passed.

She'd had to get out of the house. Monica and Edward had insisted on coming by again to see the baby, pushing in through the doorway with the usual gifts—bags of toys and clothes and educational DVDs no four-month-old needed. Their breath smelled of the vodka martinis they drank each evening before dinner, whether they were dining out or staying in. But it was when Monica asked Molly to kindly leave the room, her own living room, because it made her uncomfortable to see her breastfeed her daughter, that Molly knew she needed to step out
for a bit, even if it meant leaving Dylan behind with them all. Somehow she'd found her way to the Barnes & Noble where she'd first met Scott and had spent a solid hour sitting in a chair next to the literature section, just watching the space where he'd first walked up the aisle and into her life.

On her way home, Molly's steps slowed as she approached the building that housed Shulzster & Grace. It was a huge modern structure of steel and glass that sat like a roadblock at the halfway point on her walk to the subway. She adjusted the earbuds she was wearing and stared up at the glossy windows of the twentieth floor, thinking about who might occupy her old office now. She wondered if that person was as successful with client contracts as she had been in her heyday, or was as efficient with marketing and the schedules as she. The PR firm seemed to taunt her, laughing at her from behind the framework of its gleaming architecture.
Look at me,
it seemed to say.
You could have been here, but you screwed it up. Don't you wish you could still be here? Don't you wish?

Molly bit back the taste of bile that rose in the back of her throat and pulled her coat closer around her, hugging her elbows to stay warm. When it got cold like this, Scott sometimes used to show up on her doorstep with a grin and two plane tickets to someplace warm. He'd convince her to call out of work, and they'd spend a long weekend in the Bahamas, or Costa Rica, or maybe Italy. Molly's passport had gotten more stamps in the first six months she was with Scott than it had in all her years before him.

She shivered again and looked at the huge glass entranceway that loomed over her, the doors through which she used to walk at least four times a day. Steam rose from the subway vents beneath
her, its admittedly pungent warmth almost a respite from the cold. Molly stood in place, still, while the cars on Walnut Street honked at each other and the news helicopters
thup-thup-thup
ped overhead on their way to hunt the next big story of the night. Some passersby glanced at her with curiosity, but most ignored her presence, too wrapped up in their own problems to take notice of the small, sad woman standing alone on the busy sidewalk.

Molly turned away from the dark building and continued on her way home. She didn't like to leave Dylan alone with Scott. He quickly grew impatient when she cried, sometimes choosing to just sit on the couch and listen to her scream through the monitor rather than find a way to soothe her. He acted almost as if it was beneath his dignity to try to calm a baby down, Molly thought. But his parents were there, and she knew Scott would put on his best face for them. She just prayed they didn't leave before she got home.

Molly picked up her pace and hurried down the stairs to the subway station, cowering against the chill.

The snow was just beginning to fall the next day, a thin veil of white flakes cloaking the soot that covered the buildings outside her window. Molly sat cross-legged on the floor of the living room wearing her sweatpants and a Bryn Mawr T-shirt from her undergrad days, searching for Christmas gifts for her brothers. Dylan was dozing in her bouncy seat, and Molly was half-watching
Rocky Balboa
as she worked. Her cell phone rang, and Molly snatched it from the coffee table on the second ring. The movie had gone to commercial, and Molly turned down the volume of the television.

“Oh, sorry, Mol. Did I wake the baby?” Jenny's voice was bright and clear.

Molly glanced again at Dylan. She'd barely stirred.

“Nope, nope. You're good. What's up?” Molly clicked through pictures of camping gear online while she listened to her friend. She'd have to ask Scott for more money if she was going to be able to afford any of the items. He still hadn't added her to his checking account, no matter how many times she reminded him. She looked up to see that the commercials had ended and the movie was back on. Molly saw Sylvester Stallone move across the screen, rambling down the same Philadelphia streets she did every day. The volume was too low to hear what he was saying.

“Well, I just wanted to call and check to see if you guys were still planning on coming to our party this year.” Jenny sounded tentative.

“What, for New Year's? We wouldn't miss it for the world. You know that. It's just . . .” Molly glanced at Dylan.

Jenny laughed as if she'd seen Molly's expression. “You have a little baby to care for now? Bring her with you.”

“Jenny, we don't want to impose on you!” Molly said. “It's just that my parents have that party they go to every year, and Scott's parents are leaving for France that night, and we don't have a babysitter.” Molly wondered how she'd convince Scott to pay for a sitter anyway. He'd gotten tight with his money since she'd had the baby. She tried to suppress the bubble of anger that flared in her belly like a fire, but it was there, as it always was lately, growing more persistent with each day that passed. Molly watched an image of City Hall pan across the television. It was the beginning of the scene where Rocky fights for his boxing license.

“Molly, I wouldn't offer if I weren't serious,” Jenny insisted. Molly could hear Dan echo his agreement in the background. “We have so many friends who've started breeding we just decided that we'd better make the festivities start earlier this year so people can bring their kiddos.”

“You guys are awesome,” Molly said, relieved. She'd been worried she'd have to miss her first real social activity since giving birth. “The party's definitely going to have a different vibe this year, isn't it? With all of these little ones running around?” She laughed.

Jenny was starting to answer when Scott walked into the room.

“What's awesome? Did we win something?” He was dressed to go out, wearing his best jeans and a cashmere sweater his parents had brought him back from Milan last winter. He checked his hair in the mirror hanging by the front door. “Tell me. What'd we get?”

Molly put her hand over the phone's mouthpiece.

“Jenny and Dan are making their New Year's party kid-friendly this year. So we can take Dylan.”

Scott groaned. “You mean you're making me go to that thing again? My buddy from work has tickets to the Sixers that night.”

“On New Year's?” Molly said, surprised. She could hear Jenny whispering to Dan through the earpiece. “When were you going to tell me?”

“I don't know.” Scott shrugged. “Does it matter?” He glanced at Dylan, whose eyes had opened while they were talking, and strode over to the staircase before taking the steps to the second floor two at a time. Molly was quiet for a long while. Hurt tumbled down her throat and into her belly like a waterfall,
splashing there before spreading out, until it filled every cell in her body with the knowledge that she'd been trying to keep from rising like floodwaters for the past few months, or even years.

It was never going to get better. They were never going to be okay.

“Molly.” Jenny's voice was clearer now. Molly'd forgotten she still had the phone up to her ear. “Is this worth it?”

Molly closed the lid to her laptop. She didn't feel like shopping after all.

“We have a baby, Jenny.” She sighed, her tone even, willing the activity in her mind to abate. She stretched her legs out on the floor and noticed that her yoga pants were starting to get threadbare in the knees.

“Well, I'd like to know you'll be okay until I see you again.”

“I'll be fine, Jenny. I have it under control. Don't spend your vacation worrying about me.” Molly took a shaky breath, surprised by the sudden stab of fear she felt. “Are you guys going to be away for long?”

Jenny made an
mm-hmm
sound into the phone. “We'll be visiting Dan's dad and his stepmom for the rest of the month.”

The fear turned to panic when Molly realized she wouldn't have her best friend around for two weeks. She stood to pick Dylan up from the seat and held her close. Her thoughts were competing with one another, coming fast and hard. She didn't realize that she was rocking back and forth in place.

“You'll be in Connecticut, right?” Molly tried to make her voice even. “They just got a ton of snow up there, I heard. And bonus for getting to hang out with Dan's folks.”

“I know—they're just the coolest parents in the world, aren't they? I'm fantasizing about winter wonderlands and sleigh bells,
and Dan's been talking nonstop about finally teaching me to ski.” Jenny paused. “And it'll be nice to get away from Operation Procreation for a little bit.”

“I totally agree.” Molly was pacing on the living room rug. “And I'm not even the least bit jealous.”

Jenny had been rustling some papers. The noise suddenly stopped. “Oh, no. Don't tell me. What are you guys up to?”

“He's insisting that we spend Christmas with his family.”

Jenny was silent for a moment, then she said, “Wait a minute. He's never around and does nothing for you, but now you have to ditch your family to hang out with his? Do his parents even care about seeing Dylan?”

“Yeah, they do,” Molly said. “A bit too much, actually. They love her. She's the second coming of Scott.”

“So you're going to let him bully you into that, even with what happened the last time? I don't get it.” Jenny's voice rose higher. “Are you trying to get pregnant again?”

Molly had stopped walking. She stood in the middle of her living room, staring at the television. Rocky was watching his son get browbeaten by his boss. Molly's body faced the door, her muscles tensed.

“God, no! I'm just trying to keep the relationship alive, friend. Gotta give the dying horse one more good kick in the ribs, you know?”

“Molly, his parents are dreadful. You're torturing yourself.”

“Ah, they're not that bad. Monica's worked to make a good life for her family. You have to respect that.” Molly was still standing in place, her mind not fully focused on the conversation.

Jenny snorted. “Yeah, because Scott turned out really well.
Is this the same Monica who once assumed Dan was part of the string quartet at a party? She's sort of—”

“—not too graceful, I know. I'll give you that. It took me a while to realize that about her,” Molly said. “Too busy being dazzled by all the shiny jewelry and fancy cars.”

Jenny was silent. “Well, I'll be thinking of you.”

“As you sip your hot toddy with Dan beside the fireplace at some chic ski lodge?” Molly forced out a laugh. “You better not be.”

Jenny chuckled, but it was a quiet sound, more reserved than her usual throaty laugh.

“Well, have a good Christmas, Mol. Let's sit down after the holidays and hash out the next step in our job-searching, okay? Because I know you won't let Scott keep you penned up in there too much longer.”

Molly shifted on her feet and looked at Dylan, who had dozed off again in her arms. One day. One day soon. “You're still looking for another job?”

“Of course.” Jenny laughed. “If I have to itemize one more receipt at that damn bank I'm going to end up stapling myself in the head.”