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"Thank you very much for turning me into the lesbian spinster in this story," Tilly says with a roll of her eyes. "I'm getting more cake." She stands and nearly stomps across the bookstore in her combat boots, a frown piercing her forehead.
"It's just thatonewoman in this group was supposed to have a beautiful love story!" Her eyes well with tears as she picks up her fork and stabs it into her cake.
"Woah," Marigold Pim says, finally speaking up. "Okay. Hold your horses there, girl." She leans forward and sets her wine glass on the wooden floor by her feet so that she can use both hands as she talks. "No one is saying that Molly and Rodney didn't have a beautiful love story." Marigold turns to Molly as if to ask for permission to speak on the topic. Molly nods for her to go on. "And no one says that it isn'tstilla beautiful love story. But one of them is no longer with us." Marigold lowers her voice a few notches and watches Vanessa--sweet, hopeful Vanessa--with sympathy. "And while love doesn't die, honey, sometimes people do."
It's such a sad but undeniable truth that no one says anything for a long moment.
"You're right," Vanessa finally concedes. "I'm sorry, Molly. I just got wrapped up in the story, and I thought you'd been single all these years and mourning Rodney. It seemed so tragic and lovely, and a part of me wants that kind of love to really exist in the world."
Molly begins to shake--first her shoulders, then her whole body--and she puts her face into her hands. She hopes that it will pass quickly and that they can move on and get back to the story, but instead, the shakes turn into a full body laugh and she drops her hands so that she's looking at everyone again.
What looks back at her is a group of stunned faces; they'd clearly thought she was crying.
"I'm sorry," Molly says, shaking her head and waving both hands back and forth. "I'm sorry, Vanessa. I'm not laughingatyou, but I am laughing at the idea of being a sexless widow for forty-plus years. At least by choice! I could never live that way--never, ever--no matter how much I adored Rodney, and believe me, I did. I love men too much," she says with an unapologetic shrug. "I love men and I love passion and I love everything about connecting with another human that way. So no, sweetheart," she says, smiling gently at Vanessa. "While I did love my husband dearly, his death did not commit me to a lifetime of pious celibacy. And I'm not sorry at all."
"Nor should you be," Ruby says. She looks surprised at her own words. "Moving on is...normal. Healthy."
"You ready to take your own advice, Rubes?" Sunday reaches over and pats her best friend on the thigh. "It is normal and healthy, and it does good things for the heart to feel alive again in that way."
"Did it do good things for you, Molly?" Heather asks. "Did it help your heart?"
Molly considers this for a moment. "Let me tell you what it did," she says, leaning forward in her chair. The other women do the same, their eyes fixed on Molly as they listen intently.
* * *
Adi looked up at Molly through his long, thick lashes as they lay together on the sand.
"You're special, Molly," he said, reaching over and tucking her hair behind one ear.
Molly was laying on her stomach on the sand, her red-and-white gingham bikini just covering the soft roundness of her backside as she ran a single strand of a palm frond through her fingers and then tickled Adi's nose with it.
"You're not so bad yourself," she said, leaning over and kissing him on the lips.
"Hello!" A voice drifted over to them from closer to the water and Molly sat up, adjusting her biking straps.
Slowly, Adi sat up as well, wrapping his bare arms around his long legs and squinting into the distance. "It's Mrs. Chand," he said, lifting a hand in greeting.
"Hi, you two," Mrs. Chand said as she approached. She was wearing a yellow flowered sarong tied around her waist and a simple white t-shirt. Her feet were bare, and she was slightly out of breath. "I'm glad I found you here."
Molly waited expectantly, though she had to admit to herself that, while she liked Mrs. Chand, the interruption wasn't entirely welcomed.
"Christmas is in three days," Mrs. Chand said, looking back and forth between them. "The church is putting on a big feast and hosting guests from our sister church on Futuna for the holiday."
Molly nodded; Ema had talked of almost nothing else for weeks.
"We need performers for the meke dance, and of course help preparing the big meal in the lovo. Can I sign you both up?"
Adi looked at Molly with amusement. "Do you want to do the meke dance?"
"Who, me?" Molly put a hand to her chest as she shook her head, laughing. "No way. I'm not a dancer, and I feel like that's something traditional that I should probably just watch and not take part in. I can do the food preparation though. Can you sign me up for that?" She turned to look at Mrs. Chand.
"No, no, no," Mrs. Chand said, shaking her head. "I want you both for the meke."
"Let's make Molly one of the princesses," Adi said, bumping into Molly with his shoulder and winking at her.
"Definitely not," Molly said. She felt strongly about taking the role of an observer in anything that was traditional.
But Mrs. Chand was narrowing her eyes as she considered this, the tip of her forefinger tapping against her chin. "I have some ideas. I'll get back to you both later on today so that you know your roles, but I'm going to work with this. Yes. This will be perfect." She backed away from them with a wave and started walking towards the water again.
