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“Of course not.”
“Then get over it, Molly, because your brother is marrying her in two weeks, and he knows how you feel. Think about that.”
Properly chastised, Molly’s cheeks burned and she glanced away from Lainey. “You’re right,” she replied softly. “She’s just…Jessica is just…she’s so…she’s so damn girlie.” There. She said it.
“Well, she is a female.”
“I know, but…”
“And women come in a variety of flavors.”
“You’re telling me. But Jess and I have nothing in common. Literally nothing. Last week, she asked me who I preferred, J-Law or J-Lo. I had to go home and Google what the hell that was. I thought they were ice cream flavors or new takeout joints. Did you know they’re actresses?”
“Everybody who pays attention to any kind of pop culture does.”
“Well, that’s not me.”
“No, it isn’t. And that’s fine. Like I said, we all come in different shades of human.” Lainey walked over, and Molly had no choice but to look at her. “You might want to think about why Jessica makes you uncomfortable, not the color pink.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
Lainey stepped back. “Doesn’t it?” When Molly didn’t answer, she sighed. “Look, you get going. I’ll lock up. And Molly?”
“Yes?”
Lainey’s expression softened. “Let your hair down tonight.”
“It’s a party at Stu’s, and he’s got a new baby in the house. Trust me, there won’t be much hair to let down.”
“No. I mean get rid of that messy bun and literally let your hair down tonight. Those waves are the envy of most women I know, and you always tie them back.” She gave her a once-over. “You might want to change out of your work clothes. Aside from the fact those jeans are about two sizes too big, there’s a big stain across your chest from where you dropped a slice of pizza.”
Molly glanced down and made a face. Sure enough, her left boob was covered in red sauce. At the age of twenty-nine, she was, in fact, becoming her mother.
“Thanks for locking up.” Molly stepped toward reception before Lainey decided she needed another pep talk. “I’ve got a change of clothes in my car, so I’m good. I’ll see you on Monday.”
Molly headed out into the hot August evening. With only a week to go until Labor Day, the days were getting shorter and already it was dark. The night sky was full of sparkling stars, and a slight breeze brought with it the smell of citronella. Somewhere, someone was burning candles in the backyard in an attempt to ward off the mosquitos. On autopilot, she walked to her parking spot, not realizing it was empty until she reached into her bag for her keys. And then she spent a good minute or so staring stupidly at the empty spot while her brain reversed and she realized her car was still at Hank’s Garage.
“Shit.” Because of carpet-eating Buddy, she’d never picked it up.
She could ask Lainey for a ride, even considered it for all of two seconds, but the thought of dealing with her probing questions and uncalled-for advice had Molly turning her butt around and heading toward the river. She?
?d walk. Heck, with all the pent-up energy bouncing around inside her, she could use the exercise.
By the time she reached Stu’s, it was after ten. She was hot and sweaty and not in a particularly good mood. She was nowhere near where she needed to be in order to survive a night of Jessica and her girlfriends.
And then there was Nate to deal with.
She kept to the shadows that blanketed the side of Stu’s house. He was back there, along with the rest of her best friends, Stu, Brad, Mike, and her brother Zach. She hadn’t seen Nate in nearly two years, not since Stu’s bachelor party in Vegas, and that had been a disaster. At least for Molly. For a girl who didn’t drink hard liquor, Vegas wasn’t the place to become best friends with JD. And Mr. Daniels, the bastard, had made her do things she would normally never do. Even now, her cheeks heated up just thinking about it.
It was Nate who’d put her to bed. She didn’t remember much from that night. In fact, she told Nate she remembered nothing, but the little bits she did remember made her cringe. And want to die. And never drink Jack Daniels ever again.
Thankfully, he’d never brought it up.
She closed her eyes and tried to relax, exhaling slowly as she rolled her shoulders before doing the same to her neck. Raucous laughter and music floated up from the backyard, and along with it, her brother’s voice. This was a party to celebrate Zach and Jessica’s upcoming wedding, and Molly felt like a shit for the way she’d been behaving. Lainey was right. It was time for Molly to get over herself. It wasn’t Jessica’s fault that Molly felt uncomfortable around Jess and her friends.
At least Jess didn’t hang with Chess Somers. That woman had been the bane of Molly’s existence for as long as she could remember. Nearly every crappy memory she had involved Chess in some way. When she was five and sent off to sleepaway camp, Chess had tricked her into closing her eyes and opening her mouth, and then she’d giggled and deposited three dead flies inside. The kids all laughed and Chess had cemented herself as the Queen Bee of their age group. She took any and every opportunity to make Molly miserable and was the first person to call her Bones Malone on account of the fact that in her formative years, she’d been tall and thin and athletic. The name stuck, and though Molly pretended she didn’t care what the kids called her, truthfully, that kind of pain never leaves.
Newly divorced, Chess had moved back to Crystal Lake a few months ago—Molly heard she’d started up with Jason Brewer—and thankfully, their paths hadn’t crossed.
