Tangled Up in Daydreams (10 page)

“I'll have my cell on. Also, you might as well send me some finished pieces and my workbox too. Maybe I can design while I am up here.”

“How long are you staying?”

“Don't know yet.”

“You know he called me today wondering where you were. He told me what really happened.”

“Yeah.” Swallowing hard. “And?”

“And, I get it, but you can't just run away. You're supposed to be the grown-up here.”

“Whatever, I can for now. I just can't talk to him. You didn't tell him where I was, did you?”

“No, but he's not an idiot. He figured it out.”

“I hope he doesn't call.” Breathing hard. “Look.” Starting to tear up again. “Jay, I got to go. Thanks for everything.”

“Molly, you need to talk about all this. Stop cutting me off! Please, just stop for a second and focus.”

“I just can't. I don't want to focus and think and deal! I just want everything to fucking go away!”

“That's exactly why you need to talk about it.” Getting upset. “It's not going to go away by you shutting your eyes real tight and clicking your fucking heels three times!”

“That's all well and good, Toto, but I'm hanging up.”

“Molly, come on.”

“Gotta go. Love you.” Interrupting and hanging up.

Molly went back to the sink and splashed water all over her face. The cool liquid eased the temperature of her overheated cheeks. Her yellow day was beginning to dull and look like congealed turkey fat the day after Thanksgiving.

A
fter showering long and hard, and crawling into a pair of dirty gray cords and a pink Abercrombie fake-aged T-shirt, Molly grabbed her hobo bag and headed outside where her car stood shiny and newly washed. This was one tradition Molly missed desperately in Los Angeles. While she barely managed a bath once a month for her Land Rover, Henry was a twice a weeker. Molly smiled and climbed into her spit-shined chariot. She flicked on the radio and drove into town. Exactly eight minutes later, at 3:12, she pulled in front of Helen's, their family restaurant. She saw her mom's, dad's, and brother's cars parked and spaced evenly down the street. Determined not to fall into another weepfest, Molly pulled a Mr. Potato Head and plugged a big fat smile on her face.

She pushed open the walnut wood door. The restaurant was empty except for her mother carefully sipping a cappuccino and going over the reservation book at the end of the bar. Her mother's silvery blond bob hung over her eyes as she bent her head down while working. Her faded khakis and pale green cashmere short-sleeved sweater contrasted with the dark wood of the restaurant.

“Hi.” Giving her mom a kiss on the cheek. “Make me one?” Taking a sip from Helen's cup.

“Hi, baby. Sure.” Looking up at her daughter with her green eyes. “Double?”

“Yes, I need the caffeine.”

Helen got up from her seat and went around the bar. She resteamed the milk and hit the espresso machine. Soon, a perfect latté was walking back to Molly.

“How are you doing?” Handing it to Molly.

“Fair.” Taking a sip. “I slept forever.”

“I didn't want to wake you, you looked like you needed the rest.” Sitting back down. “Ready to talk?”

“Let me go get something to eat from Dad, and then we'll see what springs forth.”

“What about the soup?”

“It just didn't sit right.”

Molly got up and took her cup with her as she traipsed back into the kitchen. Her flip-flops slapped against the cool certainty of the waxed cranberry-colored concrete floor. The aromas tickled her nose immediately, their delicate web of fragrance warming her senses. Angel, the line cook, stood next to Henry behind the big stove, stirring large stockpots and preparing sauces. Alex sat on a little stool by the counter, trimming and portioning the meat. And Charlie, the prep chef, worked feverishly whisking oils, preparing his dressings. Renee, now conveniently Alex's wife, walked in from the back holding a tray of apples sprinkled with butter and brown sugar. She popped them into one of the ovens. She was the first to see Molly.

“I know that girl.” Coming over and giving Molly a big hug. “Your parents said you made quite an entrance this morning.”

“Yeah. You know me. I am all about big productions.” Squeezing back. “Is that your belly I feel?”

“Yeah.” Rubbing her hand over her tummy. “It just really popped out. I'm starting to look like a house.”

“How far along are you now? Five months?”

“Almost six.”

Molly leaned down and talked to Renee's stomach.

“Hi, little one. I'm your aunt and can't wait to meet you.” Standing back up. “You look great by the way. Where did those boobs come from?”

“Pretty amazing, right? One of the only perks.” Winking at Molly. “How are you doing?”

Molly was about to answer but was swooped into a Stern bear hug. Her dad and brother smothered her with their arms. The smell of raw meat and vegetables wafted around her.

“Hi, fellas.”

“So what's going on, sister?” Alex asked while sitting back down. He nudged the back of his wrist through his curly brown hair, going back to his task.

“Hungry?” her dad asked. “I can make you some pasta.”

“Sounds good, Dad. Thanks.”

“I asked you a question, Molly,” her brother restated, ditching the pleasantry.

“Jeez, I heard you. We can talk later when you aren't bearing sharp steel.”

“After work, I'm coming for you.” Pointing a knife at her.

“Fine.” Cutting him off with a reluctant agreement. “Renee, how much longer are you planning on working?”

“A few more weeks. I have been training this new girl, Ashley. I think she's going to work out fine.”

“Great.” Swallowing the last of her coffee. “Oh, are you still doing yoga classes, with the baby and all?”

“Saturdays at the Sacred Cow.”

“Count me in.” Heading for the door. “Dad, I'll be outside with Mom.”

“I'll bring the pasta out when it's ready.”

Molly went back into the front room and sat down next to her mother.

“Mom, I just don't think I'm ready to talk about it.”

“That's okay.” Patting Molly's hand. “Did you see Renee?”

“Her tummy is so cute! I can't wait for that baby to get here.”

“I know, I went with them to their first sonogram and it was amazing. I think I have the picture in my purse. I was going to mail you a Xerox, but I forgot.” Getting up and walking to the coatrack in the corner. “Here. My first grandchild. I'm so proud.”

“Wow, it looks like a peanut. Our very own Goober.”

Molly's mom, instead of sitting back down, went over and began folding a stack of napkins laying on one of the tables. They were all different French Provençal patterns based in gold, coral, and red tones.

“What do you think of these? We just got them in. I ordered them when Dad and I were in Saint-Tropez.”

“I like them. They look good on the tables.” Getting up to help. “I like the flowers too.” Gesturing to the sunflowers.

“I brought them from home. We have tons in the backyard.”

“I saw them when I woke up. They inspired me to try to have a yellow day.”

“Glad it's not blue.”

“Glad you are not a poet.” Winking at her mom.

Molly and Helen quietly folded and placed napkins for a while, their actions mimicking each other like a well-rehearsed ballet. It seemed as if each were listening to the same song, singing in the silence.

“How's the business going?” Helen asked.

“Good. Jay is sending off that big order I got from Barneys and I just got some pieces in the October issue of
Elle
. I went kind of crazy the last few weeks and made a ton of pieces so I can fill orders right away if need be, which looks like it was a good idea because I'm not sure when I'm going home. Jay's still trying to persuade me into the store thing.”

“What do you think about it?”

“Definitely not at the top of my list of things to think about right now.”

“Okay. By the way, I think that Susan wants some more for the store here. Your jewelry has been a big hit up here with all the summer tourists.”

“Cool. I'll go see her. Jay's sending some up with my materials.”

“Good. Maybe you want to help out here a bit? While you sort out whatever it is that you are going through?”

“Sure, and I will tell you when I can, Mom.”

“I know, I know. I'm just worried.”

“So am I.”

Molly walked over to her mother and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

“What a picture. My two girls,” Henry called out while walking in. “Molly, here you go.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

Molly went back to the bar and sat down behind her plate of steaming pasta. Her appetite immediately returned. Molly forked her plate with the ferocity of a scavenging dog feasting on a half-eaten McDonald's burger lying limp in a dark alleyway. She barely swallowed between mouthfuls.

“Slow down, kid.” Henry chuckled, his round, ruddy cheeks glinting. “Alex isn't here to hijack your meal.”

Molly's stuffing her face ended with the ring of a phone. From within her purse on top of the bar, Molly's cell sang. Thinking it was Jay, she ran over and flipped it on.

“Hello,” she answered.

“Hey,” a sleepy voice purred.

Molly could feel the hairs on the back of her neck stand up on end and she felt her pulse beating in her ears. She gulped.

“Molly, are you there?” Liam asked.

“Yeah.” Choking out the word.

“Hey.”

“You said that already.” Still trying to catch her breath.

“I guess. So …” Liam searched for words. “You're home?”

“Yeah. I pretty much left from the hospital.”

“Jay told me and so did my mom when she got in a little while ago. How are you?”

“How do you think?” Stifling a large sob.

“I know.”

“No, you don't!” Raising her voice.

“You're right. Molly, I'm so …”

“Don't even! Don't even let the words fall from your mouth.” Starting to yell. “It's all bullshit!”

Henry and Helen looked at each other and back at their daughter. Helplessly they watched her entire body react.

“Molly, I'm sorry. I am.”

“I told you not to bother. I can't do this.”

“I fucked up.” Liam starting to cry into the phone.

Molly put her hand on the receiver and dry-heaved. Her body convulsed and hot tears fell on her cheeks.

“I really fucked up. Fuck.” Crying harder. “I'd do anything to take it back.”

“Well, you can't, and I can't do this anymore. Liam, it's over.” Crying with him.

“Just like that?”

“You're kidding, right?” Getting her wits about her. “You broke the promise, the one fucking thing I asked of you ever.”

“I know, but give me another chance. It won't happen again, ever. I'm going to get help. My mom is taking me to a place right after they let me out of the hospital. I know I can't do it alone and I am going to get clean. I am going to this time. I have a problem, and I'm going to fix it.”

“I'm glad, but I just …” Molly let out a giant sigh. “I'm all out of get-out-of-jail-free cards.”

“Molly, please,” Liam begged her. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, but I just can't go down this road with you anymore. I'm so scared, too scared. This is so much more than I bargained for. I'm becoming this road map of scars.”

“At least wait until I get home.”

“Take care of yourself. I gotta go.” Molly hung up the phone.

Molly held the cell in her hot hand, and she stared at the smooth buttons. Her knuckles were white. Helen came over and put her arms around her daughter's waist. She pulled her into a hug and Molly broke down. Tighter and tighter she clung to her mother until the floor and ceiling dropped away.

It was dark when Molly woke up. Somehow she was wrapped in a black blanket, tucked into the couch in the family room of their home. She had no recollection of coming home, or of falling asleep. The only thing to tell her she had been crying was the dull throb of her sinuses and a thin crust on her lashes. The clock on the TV read eight-thirty. How long had she been asleep?

Molly went into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of juice from the fridge. Every muscle in her body ached whenever she moved. Everything was clenched, trying to form a skin shield. Too bad it was too late for the blow not to punch a hole right through her. Maybe Molly was being too harsh, but her and Liam's do-or-die dance had begun months and months ago. Various issues began piling themselves up on her balance the closer they got and the more time they spent together.