The Chocolatier's Secret (Magnolia Creek, Book 2) (4 page)

Chapter Six

Molly

Back at her flat a few streets away from the hospital where she worked, Molly sat at the kitchen table with a cup of tea and opened up her iPad. Without bothering with the News Feed, she was straight into the Facebook support group. Somehow, over the last few months, she and Ben, the founder of the group, had hit it off, and while most of their correspondence had been in comments on the group page at the start, they had started to private message one another. At first their conversations had only focused on flying, but soon they were chatting about anything and everything. Molly told him about her brother’s upcoming wedding, Ben talked about his travels, and last week she’d even shared the story of her adoption and all about her birth mother. Sometimes it was easier to tell a stranger your secrets than reveal them to those close to you. Ben was impartial, a good sounding board, and they were separated by a computer screen.

Neither Molly nor Ben had shared many specifics like their ages, addresses, other details that didn’t matter so much in the virtual world. All she really knew was that Ben was an Australian who, once he’d got over his fear, had found the world at his feet and was enjoying travelling around, currently in Ireland seeing the sights such as the Guinness factory and Temple Bar.

Molly wrote now and told him about her decision to trace her birth father.

Molly: Do you think I’m a bit crazy to be doing this?

Ben: Yes.

Molly: Really?

Ben: Yes.

Molly: Stop saying yes!

Ben: Okay.

Molly: Please, I need an opinion. Am I crazy to dig up the past?

Ben: In everything you’ve said about your search for answers, in looking for your birth mother, finding her and having her reject you (sorry if it sounds harsh but I’m no typist so don’t have the dexterity to tiptoe around the facts), why have you never once mentioned the birth father?

Molly: Ah, so you can type well enough to use fancy words like ‘dexterity’?!?

Ben: Don’t avoid the question.

Molly: I’m not.

She didn’t type anything for a moment because the day she’d met the man, Allan, at the hospital had affected her more deeply than she’d realised.

Molly: Truthfully, I’m starting to wonder what part he played in all of this. He could’ve been some arse who walked away. Then again, maybe he didn’t even know about me.

Ben: It must be frustrating … the not knowing part, I mean.

Molly: I’m not sure I could handle rejection all over again. It hurt so much the first time.

Ben: I don’t doubt it. But if you were curious about your birth mother, why not find out about the birth father? Do you know anything about him?

Molly: His name is on my original birth certificate.

Ben’s reply took a couple of minutes to come through.

Ben: I know we’ve never met and probably never will, but I’ve spent enough time in this group to get to know some of the members pretty well. You seem like a determined young lady (all adjectives used are subject to change if we ever should meet!) and you seem the sort of girl who would rather know and deal with the consequences than never know at all. Am I making sense?

Molly: Kind of.

Ben: Well … you have a name. Start the easy way … our good friend, Google. I’ll do it if you like – give me the name and I’ll see what dirt I can dig up about this man.

Molly: I don’t think that’ll be necessary.

Ben: Go for it … clear up the emotional mess afterwards. Maybe this man has the right to have the chance to get to know you. (Btw I’m cringing here in case you’re angry at me for being so blunt.)

Molly: I’m not angry.

Ben: Oh God, do you think this makes me the male version of a feminist?

Molly: Yep, I can just see you burning your boxers in a protest!

Ben: How do you know I wear boxers? I could be a Y-fronts man!

Molly: Don’t bother to flirt … it’ll never happen. We live in different countries.

Ben: Plenty of people have long distance relationships.

When the buzzer to the flat sounded she hurriedly typed, ‘Gotta go, hot date for dinner …’

She pushed the button beside the door to release the lock on the main entrance downstairs, conscious this wasn’t the first online exchange to leave her wondering what Ben looked like in real life. His profile picture was of a glass of Guinness, and before that it was a croissant from his travels to Paris and before that a photo of him as a baby. She’d asked him about it once and he’d claimed he wasn’t exactly photogenic.

When there was a knock at the door of the flat, Molly knew she’d have to stop wondering about Ben for the time being and whether he could turn out to be some crazy online predator or not. Still, she was definitely having fun with him, whoever he was.

‘How’s it going, sis?’ Isaac lived around the corner, and they saw each other at least every couple of weeks.

‘Good, thanks.’ She hugged him. ‘Claire not joining us?’

‘Next time. She’s got a lot of work on at the moment and she wants to leave with impeccable references.’

‘I’m sure she will.’ Claire was doing a two-year stint with an insurance company, working as a marketing assistant, and when she left in a few months to return to America, taking Isaac with her, she’d need to find a new job.

Molly pulled on her leather jacket. ‘You finish early tonight?’

‘What can I say?’ He waited for Molly to lock the flat door behind them. ‘I haven’t eaten a Chinese in a fortnight, I’m having withdrawal symptoms.’

‘Sounds about right.’ Molly laughed as they went down the stairs.

‘I’ll work some more tonight at home.’ Isaac was an estate agent and alternated working between the Bristol office and the Bath office and other days from the study in the semi-detached house he shared with Claire.

‘I’ll drive if you like,’ he offered. ‘You can have a couple of drinks.’

‘Sounds perfect to me.’

The local Chinese was a firm favourite, and when they were seated and had ordered their meal, Molly sipped on her beer as Isaac told her about the nightmare of a day he’d had.

‘Sixteen people in the bloody chain, Molly. Sixteen. And one idiot pulls out and the whole thing collapses, and now fifteen people are up shit creek.’

Molly took a prawn cracker from the basket in the centre of the table. ‘It’s a stupid system.’ She often wondered how anybody got a foot on the property ladder. And even if they did, it seemed pretty easy to fall off or be pushed off.

‘I’m off to Center Parcs with Claire next weekend.’

‘Jealous,’ said Molly. ‘Love it there.’

‘Hey, her idea not mine. I’d rather go to an all-inclusive somewhere hot than be bashed around on the rapids, guzzling the entire swimming pool when you go down one of those fast slides.’ Isaac rolled his eyes, but Molly knew he was jesting. They’d been as teenagers with their parents and had loved every second.

‘And how’s Mum coping with the thought of you upping and moving to the other side of the world?’

‘Get to the point why don’t you, Molly.’

The relationship their family had been sure would fizzle out had done nothing of the sort. It had quickly blossomed and before Isaac knew it, he’d fallen for Claire and they were engaged, and she’d made it clear all along that she wanted to live in America near her own family. Long-distance relationships were a touchy subject in their household. Twenty years ago their maternal grandmother had decided to emigrate and follow their Uncle over to Canada. There, she’d started a new life, leaving Molly and Isaac’s mother to sell her house, clear out all the clutter and manage her own feelings of being abandoned. Molly’s mum had been heartbroken and both Molly and Isaac knew it, but when Claire had come onto the scene, Margaret Ramsey had done what all good English people did. She’d maintained the stiff upper lip, the respectable distance from interfering and told her son it was his life and he was free to do as he liked. But Molly hadn’t been fooled. A part of Margaret Ramsey’s life was about to fall away, and Molly had known then that she could never do the same to her mum. Sometimes she wondered how Isaac could.

‘Mum’s fine,’ said Isaac as the waitress brought shrimp spring rolls over to their table and they both tucked in.

‘Or so she says.’

He bit into a spring roll and changed the subject. ‘How was your day? Deliver lots of gorgeous babies?’

‘It was okay.’

‘Just okay?’

‘Stressful.’ She watched Isaac, ready to gauge his reaction. ‘I’ve been thinking.’

‘Sounds dangerous.’

‘I’m considering tracing my birth father.’ There, she’d said it.

The last spring roll paused on its way to Isaac’s mouth, and then made the rest of its journey as he shook his head. They’d always been close, and her brother had struggled to see why she’d ever want any other parents apart from their own mum and dad. But he was tied to them biologically and she wasn’t. She’d reached a point in her life where she wanted, and needed, some answers.

‘And you criticise me for trying to upset Mum,’ was Isaac’s reply.

‘I didn’t say you were trying to upset her.’

‘No, but it’s implied. But you can’t help who you fall in love with, Molly.’

Molly smiled. ‘I don’t suppose you can, and Claire’s great … Mum thinks so too.’

‘Thanks, and I really think she’ll come round eventually. She’ll come and visit and realise it isn’t so bad.’ Isaac smiled back at his sister, although he looked as unconvinced as she was. ‘Do you really think it’s wise to go ahead and search? Remember how you felt last time, when it all blew up in your face?’

With a roll of her eyes, Molly said, ‘I was hurt last time.’ She’d got so drunk the night after she was turned away by her birth mother. Tequila slammers, vodka shots. It made her feel sick to think of it even now. ‘All I know is that if I don’t do this, I’ll never get answers. At least if I search and find him, then I’ll have done everything I can to make sense of who I am.’

When Isaac didn’t speak for several minutes, she asked, ‘What are you thinking?’

Isaac sat back in his seat. ‘You had a great childhood. Why do you feel as though you need more?’

‘It’s hard to explain to someone who isn’t adopted. It’s not about wanting more.’

‘What is it about? I’m doing my best to understand, Molly.’

She sipped her beer. ‘I’m curious. I want to know if I look like someone, I want to know where I get my mannerisms from. It probably sounds ridiculously clichéd, but it’s the only explanation I have. Please don’t take it personally. God, I could end up with another big brother!’

Her attempt at a joke placated him. ‘You should be so lucky.’

‘I am lucky, Isaac. I have you, and I have Mum and Dad. But I’d rather know my background than go through my entire life wondering. Do you remember when I had those hideous migraines in my final year at school?’

‘How could I ever forget? Mum worried herself sick about you.’

‘When I went to the doctor, he asked whether I had a family history of migraines and of course I had no idea. And neither did Mum or Dad.’

‘But everything was fine,’ said Isaac.

‘Don’t you see? It’s the same whatever the ailment – if I turned up at the surgery with a mole that had turned funny, they’d ask if there was a history of skin cancer, if I had heart problems, they’d want to know my background. And if I want kids one day, it’ll be even more difficult. I know from my job that to be forewarned is to be forearmed. Every time I’m asked anything about my health history, I have to say I don’t know.’

‘I never thought of it that way.’

‘Do you see now why I’d like to know something, anything?’

‘I’m starting to.’ He sighed. ‘I’ll make sure I hide all the alcohol this time, shall I?’

She grinned at him. ‘No need. I’m prepared.’ Saying it out loud, however, cast serious doubts in her mind. What could she possibly do to prepare for a stranger, tied to her biologically, who could turn her away, slam a metaphorical, or even physical, door in her face?

Their main courses arrived and Isaac spooned out his Szechuan chicken while Molly dished out her sweet-and-sour pork, and her brother served them both a helping each of the egg fried rice.

‘How’s Operation Wedding going for you?’ Her brother asked.

‘Huh?’

‘The online support group.’

‘Good.’ She scooped up the fried rice with her chopsticks, laughing at Isaac’s attempt. She’d always been much better at using them than he had. ‘Another member made their first flight last week and it went without a hitch.’

‘Wow, this Ben bloke should take commission for all these members he cures.’

‘You make it sound like he’s some freaky god we pray to.’

Isaac finally secured a piece of chicken with his chopsticks. ‘As long as he can help get you on a plane by the time I get married, he’s got my vote.’ He popped the morsel into his mouth before it had a chance to fall. ‘I want my little sister to be at my wedding.’