Butter You Up: A Grumpy Sunshine Romantic Comedy

31. Molly

After Alex leaves,the Bedds have a heated discussion in the yard, and I’m on the outside looking in. Diane excuses herself, and I do, too, walking back to Vaniel in the dark. The Bedd family is probably regretting ever having met me.

Poor Alex. My heart aches for that teenage kid, who must have been so sweet and quiet, being told by the man who raised him to find somewhere else to go.

Why did I have to stick my nose into this family? Why? Didn’t I learn my lesson after Oscar’s family?

It was only hours ago that Alex was sitting on my bed, inside me.

I flop down on the bed, gazing up at the pictures on my ceiling. Those photos are supposed to remind me of fun times, to keep going, and share my adventures with my dad.

How come when I look up at them, I just feel so tired?

I haven’t stayed the night in Vaniel in weeks.

I want to talk to someone, anyone, but I can’t exactly go up to the big house and whine to any of the Bedd family—they’ve got their own problems and I’m probably not their favorite person right now. In the long run, I’m just a stranger passing through. Alex is family.

My book club is good for a laugh, but we don’t talk about deep stuff.

Once again, I’m faced with the consequences of my own actions; by setting off on an adventure by myself, I’ve become more isolated.

Just like my dad when he has bad days.

I roll over on my bed and grab my phone. I will not give my dad all the details, but I need to talk to someone.

He answers on the third ring. “Hey, Molly-girl.”

Oh no. Just hearing Dad’s voice makes me go all watery. “Hi, Dad.”

“Molly? What’s wrong?”

I fight to hold back the tears, I really do, but as the seconds tick by, I realize it’s a losing battle. “I screwed up, Dad.”

“Molly? What happened?” Dad’s voice is sharp, non-nonsense, tell-me-who-I-need-to-hurt. He might have gone a little soft now, but Officer Wesley Perkins is still a fighter…at least for me.

Dad listens while I tell him the whole story—leaving out the details about sleeping with Alex, obviously. But I leave enough in about Alex and Dad’s no idiot. By the end, I have a pile of used tissues at my feet, and I’m a little worried I’m going to empty the box—I don’t have a spare.

“He’s an idiot,” Dad says.

I laugh at his brashness.

“It’s not funny,” he continues. “The whole damn family are idiots. They don’t deserve you.”

“Thanks, Dad, for your completely unbiased opinion.”

“You should leave. I’ll send you some money so you can get back to your plans.”

My plans include the Rock N Roll Hall of Fame, Yellowstone National Park, and the World’s Only Corn Palace (let’s face it, South Dakota doesn’t have a lot going for it).

Money isn’t really the problem. I don’t know how to tell my dad, though. Even through Vaniel’s dying batteries, Dad encouraged me to stay the course. I’ve just sunk thousands of dollars into my van, and I don’t want to disappoint my dad by not finishing the trip.

The one I’m doing for him.

I’ve been quiet for too long.

“Oh, Molly-girl.” Dad sighs. “This is supposed to be fun.”

I know. I wasn’t supposed to get my heart broken. The words can’t make it past my throat, though.

“Do you want to come home?”

I nod, and then remember he can’t see me, and whisper, “Yes.”

“Then come home. I miss you.”

* * *

I bike to Udderly Farm early in the morning, bracing myself to have a talk with Alex on his breakfast break, but when I park my bike at the farm shop and walk up the hill, I don’t see Alex’s truck. Curious, I step inside the house, kick my flip-flops off, and come into the kitchen. Jesús, Anna, and Perry are at the table staring at me. No Alex. No Trixie. Everyone looks at me with concern. I guess word’s gotten around about what happened.

“Hi.” I give them a half-smile. “Is Alex here?”

“No,” Jesús says. “He stayed with Kit last night.”

“Come, eat.” Anna gestures.

As always, it smells fantastic, but being in Alex’s house is uncomfortable. I’m unsure when he’ll come back and how upset he’ll be with me, and I would rather just get out of here.

Get home.

I shove my hands in the pockets of my shorts. “I’m actually leaving. If you need me to, I can work at the farm shop today, but…”

“It’s fine,” Perry says. “We’ll take care of it.”

“Okay. Thanks.” Awkwardly, I walk back to Alex’s room and pick up the few things of mine in there—my gloves, my ointment, a phone charger. It all gets bundled into my bag.

I cut through the hallway instead of going back through the kitchen to leave, but Anna calls after me. Wordlessly, she wraps me in a hug, and I fight back tears.

“You’re going to be okay,” is all she says, and then lets go.

I bike back to Bedd Fellows and have pretty much the same conversation with Ethel and Ethan. This time, though, the mutual guilt hanging in the air is oppressive.

“Are you sure, dear?” Ethel asks. “You know you’re welcome to stay, right?”

“Yeah,” I assure her. “I know. But Vaniel is ready to go, and so am I.”

I don’t tell them I’m heading straight home. I’d rather let them think that it’s just time to move on. After all, my feelings about Alex don’t matter in the long run. I’m just a woman who’s passing through. They’re Alex’s family.

Here’s a wonder of van life: I grab a few things from the pole barn, and I’m ready to go. It’s been two hours since I woke up this morning, and I’ve cut all ties to the Bedd family.

I start Vaniel.

Baabara is the only one that watches me leave.