In Your Room (9 page)

Snowpeak99:
u there?

Snowpeak99:
it’s me…charlie

Mollypop:
i am! hi!

Snowpeak99:
i got your IM address from facebook and noticed you were online so…

Mollypop:
well, i’m really glad you noticed!

Snowpeak99:
and i’m glad you’re still awake.

Mollypop:
yeah…i can be a bit of a night owl sometimes.

Snowpeak99:
whoa…cheese just appeared. he must have cosmically sensed you or something.

Mollypop:
that, or he knows there’s food in his future….

Snowpeak99:
how’s work been going?

Mollypop:
pretty great so far…but i could spend hours sifting through
old interesting clothes….

Snowpeak99:
what do you like about it?

Mollypop:
i don’t know…. i guess how you can take something that someone else has gotten rid of and turn it into something completely new and different.

Mollypop:
i have all these ideas of how to make them more modern and stuff.

Snowpeak99:
you should. i’m sure they’d look even better with your touch.

Mollypop:
yeah, i don’t think penelope hired me to take a scissors to her inventory.

Snowpeak99:
she probably doesn’t know what she’s missing.

Snowpeak99:
btw, do you have a boyfriend?

Mollypop:
i’ll let you know if i ever get inspired and convert a men’s suit into a dress or something crazy like that…which might happen if I don’t get to sleep. it’s almost 2 a.m. here!!!!

Snowpeak99:
sleep well

Snowpeak99:
i’m fully aware that you completely ignored my question.

Mollypop:
don’t forget to feed cheese!!

Mollypop:
and…no…I don’t have a boyfriend.

Snowpeak99:
glad to hear it.

Mollypop:
good night, charlie.

Snowpeak99:
good night, molly.

• • •

Molly lugged a full-length mirror from the pink room down the hall and propped it up against the wall in Charlie’s room. Only a boy could survive without a mirror.

“That’s better,” she said to herself, adjusting the bright yellow sash she’d tied around her waist to cinch in the dress. It had looked more like a blue smock when she had found it buried deep on one of the racks at the store, but the addition of a simple piece of fabric she had repurposed from a torn silk blouse made all the difference.

She had been wearing at least one item from the store to work every day. In addition to the mannequins, it was the best form of advertising when people walked through the door. Molly thought of it as her own personal
Project Runway
—type challenge to try to come up with a cute outfit on a daily basis.

Looking at her reflection, she noticed a box on top of the bookcase behind her, pushed back against the wall. She hadn’t seen it before. She pushed the desk chair against the bookcase, stepped up, and reached around until she felt the cardboard edges in her grasp. She pulled the box down, placed it on the floor, and sat cross-legged in front of it, contemplating what to do. It was an old Nike shoe box, which had clearly been stowed out of sight for a reason. Then again, if there were anything in it that was that personal, Molly imagined Charlie would have locked it away with his other secrets. Since this box wasn’t sealed or taped shut, she removed the top and peered inside. No transgression committed. There were just a bunch of receipts and concert ticket stubs…and underneath, a small, old-fashioned gold key, the kind that might open a locked desk drawer.

Molly pulled it out and held it in the open palm of her hand. It was long and thin and had a certain weightiness, like it was meant for something special. She looked back at the drawer, thinking it could do no harm to test it. She went to the desk, slid the key into the lock as far as it would go, and turned it to the right twice until she heard something click.

It was unlocked.

Molly wanted so badly to pull the drawer open, to see what it was that Charlie held so dear that he had to lock away and hide the key. She wanted to know more about him, especially the parts that he normally kept to himself. But she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She couldn’t cross that line.

She turned the key to the left twice until it clicked, removed it from the lock, and put it back in the shoe box underneath the receipts. She stepped back up on the chair and tipped the box back onto the top shelf where she’d found it.

Her mom and Ron were already gone by the time she came down for breakfast. There was a note saying they’d driven out to Rocky National Park and would be back by dinner. The mornings were starting to be the only time she really saw her mom, for a meal, at least. Most nights Molly made her own dinner when she came home from work and ate alone while Laura and Ron were still out on some excursion. She preferred it this way, and her mom didn’t press the issue.

She looked up at the clock and realized she was running late and didn’t have time for breakfast. With no one to keep her company during the meal, she wasn’t all that hungry anyway.

As she walked out the front door, a bike whizzed past. It would be so much faster that way, she thought, facing the twenty-minute walk ahead in the already blazing sun.

She turned around, went back in the house and through the side door into the garage. She had gone in a few times since she and Charlie had started to become friends. She liked the way the bikes looked all lined up like that, in order, clean, organized. It was like seeing another part of Charlie close up.

She scanned the wall for the red one and reached up to lift it off the wall. It wasn’t as heavy as she’d been expecting, she thought, as she wheeled it out onto the driveway.

She hoisted her leg over the bar and could only reach the seat by standing on the tips of her toes. Remembering what Charlie had told her about the knob under the seat, she turned it to the right and, like he’d said, it lowered easily. She got back on, gripped the handlebars, and pushed off on the pedals. Thankfully, her dress was short enough to allow her to easily straddle the bar, and long enough to avoid flashing the city of Boulder on her way.

Molly was wobbly at first, but luckily there weren’t enough people out on the street for her to be publicly shamed. As she struggled to get her rhythm, she cursed the person who’d come up with the expression “It’s just like riding a bike.” When she made it to the end of the block, she realized she had left in such a hurry that she’d forgotten to grab a helmet, but now that she was moving with a degree of momentum, she couldn’t go back.

She turned left and pedaled fast for a few seconds to get up enough speed to coast for a while. Feeling more stable, she relaxed enough to enjoy the wind blowing her hair off her face. She wondered if Charlie felt the same way when he rode down these streets.

• • •

“I’m sorry I’m late,” Molly called out, as she wheeled the bike through the store to the back room, where she placed it next to Penelope’s.

“You know how I feel,” Penelope said, getting up from the desk.

“Yes, I know,” Molly said, rolling her eyes. “You think I work too much.”

“I have to practically force you out that door every day just to make sure you get some sunshine on your face.” She reached over and patted Molly’s cheeks. Her hand felt soothing.

“You’re forgetting I live in L.A., where it’s sunny three hundred and
sixty-two days a year. I’m not here for the weather.”

Molly got to work pulling select pieces out from the back racks and hanging them more prominently in front. She had noticed after the first couple of days that most people came in looking for the same type of clothing on display in the window. If they didn’t find it on the first rack or two, they never made it further.

“I feel so guilty keeping you stuck in here all day,” Penelope said.

“You’ve only known me for a little more than two weeks, so you’re not allowed to feel guilty yet.” The job was no longer just an excuse to stay away from her mom and Ron. Molly now looked forward to coming in every day and often hung around long after her shift, talking to Penelope. “What do you think of these?” She held up a short black DKNY dress from the late eighties that was now back in style, and a simple oversize white blouse she’d paired with a wide brass-and-leather belt.

“Fabulous. You have the most exquisite taste. I honestly don’t know what I did before you came along.”

Molly blushed. “You chose everything in here. I’m just providing a different point of view.”

“Your point of view has increased sales by almost fifteen percent in the past week. I updated the books this morning.”

Penelope was obviously running a business, but Molly had never thought about the nuts and bolts that went into it, like pricing items and keeping sales records. It didn’t even feel like a job since all she did all day was mix and match outfits. She did that at home exploring her own closet. The only difference was that now it was on a much bigger scale—with more eclectic and varied possibilities. “If that’s actually true, then you shouldn’t be telling me to work less, should you?”

Penelope shook her head and laughed.

Once Molly finished arranging the inventory, she sat down at the desk. She had lost track of time until the front door jingled. She looked down at a piece of paper with dress sketches all over it—she wasn’t even aware that she had been drawing—and pushed it aside before getting up. “I’ve got it,” she said to Penelope, who popped her head out from the back room.

When she approached the front, she saw it was Sylvia standing there. Molly hadn’t seen her since that afternoon at the house.

“Hi.” Sylvia waved. “Can I talk to you for a second?” She was wearing an oversize blouse, cinched at the waist with a men’s striped tie over a denim miniskirt. It was virtually identical to one of the outfits Molly had put together for the window display.

“Yeah, of course,” Molly said. She followed her outside to the park bench, motioning to Penelope, who was now at the desk, that she’d be right back.

“I’m really sorry about how I behaved last time I saw you,” Sylvia began once they were seated. “I wanted to come by sooner, but I’ve honestly been way too embarrassed.”

“You have nothing to apologize for or be ashamed of,” Molly quickly jumped in. “It was an entirely surprising turn of events for both of us.”

Sylvia sat forward. “So you
do
know Charlie?”

“No…we’ve never met. Ron—that’s my stepfather—knows one of his moms.” It was true, they had never met, only it didn’t truthfully answer Sylvia’s question. “I just mean, it was weird and you had every reason to be a little freaked out.”

“I know, what are the chances, right?” Sylvia leaned back against the bench facing the window display. “I definitely wasn’t expecting to see that room again.” She laughed. “I won’t miss those stupid sports posters or, oh
God, the
Star Wars
sheets. Don’t tell me you have to sleep on them.”

“No, I’ve never seen them.” Molly didn’t mean to lie again. It just came out. She kept waiting for Sylvia to acknowledge that she was wearing the same outfit as the mannequin in the window staring back at them, but she didn’t say a word about it. Molly knew that as a designer she would have to get used to that kind of thing and even take it as a compliment, but somehow it didn’t feel so flattering and made her feel resentful.

With the discovery of Sylvia and Charlie’s past, Molly had initially thought she wasn’t going to be able to be friends with Charlie. But now, it appeared that Sylvia was the one she’d have to let go.

“I better get back,” Sylvia said, looking at her watch.

“Totally.” Molly got up and walked with her to the door.

Sylvia turned to face her. “I know you said you don’t know Charlie, but if you ever meet, can you, like, not tell him about any of this?”

“Of course,” Molly agreed, lying to Sylvia a third time. “I won’t say a word.”

• • •