Butter You Up: A Grumpy Sunshine Romantic Comedy

33. Molly

Seeingmy dad’s trailer for the first time in eight months is like a fresh breeze hitting my face.

Or maybe it’s because I’ve driven Vaniel for three days straight to get home, and the air inside is stale.

Either way, I park my van right out front next to Dad’s sedan, and before the engine’s even off, the door flies open, and Dad steps out. I have never felt more like a daddy’s girl than I do launching myself into his arms.

“Hey Molly-girl.”

I thought I’d been all cried out—after getting yelled at by my boss and unofficial boyfriend and then giving up on my dad’s dream—but shockingly, tears form in my eyes again. If I cry, I’ll end up with a major headache again, and I’m so sick of being sad and lonely. I pull away slightly so Dad shifts his grip to my shoulders and guides me toward Vaniel.

“How about you give me the grand tour?”

We spend at least an hour poring over Vaniel. I show Dad every nook and cranny and he asks tons of questions. So many questions.

“We could take him for a spin around the block?” Dad suggests. “Driver up to Hooligans for some ice cream?”

I laugh. “I just drove, like, forty hours. Can we not? We can do it tomorrow, I promise.”

“Fine,” Dad grumbles, but it’s good-natured.

Arm around me again, we walk up the steps to the trailer.

“Are you missing New York?” he asks me.

I don’t even have to think about it. “Yeah.” I miss the scenery in the Catskills, I miss Ethel and Trixie and the stupid adorable goats, and, mostly, I miss Alex. My heart aches for him still, and here, walking side by side with my dad, I think about how lucky I am to have a simple, straightforward family.

“Well, let’s see how badly you miss it,” Dad says, and before I can ask him what he means, he opens the door to his home and steps inside the living room…where Alex sits on the couch.

Alex rises to his feet and whacks his head on the cabinets above the couch. “Ouch, shit.”

“Language,” Dad reprimands, sitting down on the opposite corner of the couch from where Alex was sitting.

“Language?” I sputter, because that’s what my mind focuses on instead of the massive man in front of me. “You don’t care about cursing.”

“It’s his way of punishing me,” Alex says, the corner of his mouth twitching up in amusement. “One of the ways he’s punishing me,” he corrects. Alex steps away from the recessed couch where he can stand up straight.

Dad pulls out his reading glasses and picks up his tablet from the table. He looks pointedly at me. “I’ll be right here, and Alex and I have an agreement: if you want him to get lost, I’ll kick his ass out of here so fast his grandma will hear the sonic boom. Isn’t that right, son?”

“Yes, sir.”

My mind is officially blown. What is happening here? I have so many questions.

I start with an easy one and fold my arms across my chest. “How long have you been here?”

“Two days.”

“What about the farm?”

“Perry and Jesús are doing just fine with the part-timers.”

“Trixie?”

“Staying with Ethan.”

“Ethel?”

Alex looks at me, exasperated. “Molly, everyone’s fine. Can we talk about us now?”

I set my jaw. “When I left, everyone was not fine. You and Ethan were so mad at each other.”

His face shifts to guilt. “I know. And I put you in the crossfire, and I am so sorry about that. None of it was your fault, and I’ve—apparently—been harboring a lot of angry feelings with Grandad and Ethan over the past fifteen years.”

Alex shifts closer. “Molly, I never should have put you in the middle of that argument. It was a disagreement fifteen years in the making, one that was fueled by lingering feelings of abandonment and grief.” His eyes flicker over to my dad, who’s pretending to read. “Mr. Perkins and I have been discussing it a lot, and he suggested I talk to a therapist about it. I have an appointment in Albany next week.”

Relief flows through me, and those stupid tears resurface and spill over my cheeks. “I’m glad you’re going to take care of yourself.”

Movement out of the corner of my eye catches my attention, and Dad holds a tissue box toward me. I take one and wipe my eyes. When I look back up, Alex holds my gaze, the deep copper of his eyes dripping with sincerity. “I am so sorry, Molly.”

“Thank you,” I whisper. “Forgiven.”

Alex’s hands twitch by his side. I close the gap between us and wrap my arms around his solid waist. Alex’s whole body relaxes against me, and even if he’s been in Spokane for two days, he still smells like a New York summer in the barn—hay (or maybe barley), sunshine, sweet milk, and the warmth of animals.

I bury my face in Alex’s flannel. The apology was perfect, but I sit here, wrapped up in Alex, and my tears fall even harder. There’s nowhere to go from here. Alex is going to get on a plane and head home to his farm, see a therapist, and maybe patch things up with Ethan.

Thousands of miles away.

I pull back, and Dad gives me another tissue, which I use to blow my nose and wipe my face. “I can’t believe you flew all the way over here and stayed two days with my dad just to apologize.”

Alex rubs the back of his neck. “Well, I stayed in a hotel room. And I didn’t exactly come just to apologize.”

“What do you mean?”

Alex straightens and runs a hand down his beard. “I thought, maybe, I could take you out on a proper date.”

“A proper date?” I echo. “Um…why?” Of all the things Alex could have said, I wasn’t expecting this. It’s one thing to ask for my forgiveness; it’s another to want to keep me around.

Alex holds my gaze. “Because I’m crazy about you, Molly. The two months you’ve been in my life have been the best I’ve ever had. And I don’t want to let you go.”

“But…I live here.”

“We, uh, have some thoughts about that.”

“We?”

“Yeah. Your dad and I.” Alex gestures to my dad, who’s no longer pretending to read. “I think you should finish your road trip.”

My eyes dart to my dad.

“Actually,” Dad adds. “I want us to finish your road trip and move to New York, if you want.”

“I…what? You didn’t want to go with me before.”

Dad sighs. “Molly, you’re young and—” Dad gestures to his body, where his pants hide his prosthetic, and I know the gesture encompasses so much more than a missing leg. “—more physically and emotionally capable than I am. I wanted you to have fun, and I didn’t want to hold you back. It seems like you did have fun, maybe too much—” he side-eyes Alex “—but if you want to drive back to New York, I want to come with you. We can finish the list, and I can see some of those cute goats you’ve told me so much about in person.”

“Or,” Alex adds quickly. “There are dairy farms here, and I can find a new position. It’ll take me some time, maybe six months, to make sure Udderly’s in good hands, but I can find work.”

I shake my head, immediately rejecting the thought. Alex’s whole life is in Fork Lick, and even while it might be a lonely one sometimes, it doesn’t have to be. Even I, an only child with one parent and a knowledge gap about big families, can see that Alex’s life is rich. And while Trixie can come with him, he’d lose his friendship with Kit and the potential to repair his relationship with his family.

“You’d lose a lot of things that you love,” I tell him.

Alex steps forward, cupping my face with his hands. “I love you, Molly.”

Damnit. I’m crying again. “I love you, too.” My gentle man bends down and plants a soft kiss on my lips. I push up on my toes and wrap my arms around his neck to pull him down for more. Alex steps even closer, putting our bodies flush and wrapping his arms around me.

Until Dad clears his throat, and we pull apart. My cheeks go up in flames. I’ve never kissed anyone in front of my dad.

“So, are we moving to New York?” Dad asks.

“Yes,” I say. “Yes!”

Alex’s smile is the widest I’ve ever seen it.

A thought occurs to me. “Wait. Where is Dad going to live?”

Alex clears his throat. “Actually, I have some thoughts about that.”