Chapter 11 Molly
MOLLY
A minute later, my phone pings with an incoming message.
Avah: About to turn down your driveway.
I wash the dirt off my hands in the greenhouse sink, smooth some water over my flyaway hair, and hang the apron I always wear when planting on the hook by the door before hobbling out into the late morning sunlight.
“Can’t I just order something online?” she asks in a fake whine as she helps me place my crutches in the back of her compact BMW SUV.
“Nope. Drinking champagne and trying on expensive dresses is part of the bride-to-be gauntlet.” I open the passenger door. “But are we cheating on the rest of the book club with just the two of us?”
She flips up her sunglasses and stares at me over the roof of the car. “I don’t like to be the center of attention.”
I choke out a laugh as I awkwardly climb in after stowing the crutches. “Since when?”
“Not for this kind of girly stuff,” she says as she fastens her seatbelt. “What’s the point? Jon and I have been dating forever, and we’re eloping. None of this is necessary.”
“Speaking of that, why aren’t you having a big wedding? I know your mom doesn’t live in Skylark anymore, but you have friends here. What about the rest of your family, or…” I shake my head. “I don’t know anything about your dad?”
Avah shoots me some major side-eye. “What’s up with twenty questions?”
“I was just telling Chase how you’re my best friend. And somehow I know so little about you when I’m a book that’s open so far my spine is cracked. I mean, you know that it’s been over two years since I had sex. That’s a lot of detail, Avs.”
“Jon and I had sex last night. Reverse cowgirl. We’re even. Feel better?”
“Yikes,” I whisper. “Not the kind of detail I meant. I don’t even think I know what reverse cowgirl means.”
“Google it,” she says as she merges onto the highway, heading west toward the Flatirons and the town of Boulder. Her appointment is at a bridal boutique in the college town. “And then tell me about the hot cowboy. If the Airstream’s a rockin’, don’t come—”
“Hard pass on both.”
“You need a dick appointment,” she says, like she’s talking about the weather. “Chase Calhoun is a viable option.”
“He’s my late husband’s best friend.”
“Did they see each other once during your marriage?”
“They lived different lives, especially after Teddy and I got married.” I shake my head. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not interested.”
She laughs softly. “You’re lying. Everyone is interested in Chase.”
I shift in my seat and look out the window at the passing scenery.
Spring comes late to the foothills, and while a few of the cottonwoods have green buds coloring their branches, most of the trees are still bare.
I’m like one of those naked trees—no one can see the changes taking place in me yet, but when my season comes, I’ll bloom in a way that surprises everyone. Myself included.
“I know what you’re doing,” I tell my bestie. “You’re trying to distract me from talking about you by talking about me. You know you can tell me anything, right?”
I see her grip tighten on the leather steering wheel. “I know,” she says quietly, “but I don’t like talking about myself or my family. My dad’s in jail. Has been for years.”
The words hit me like a splash of cold water, and my chest tightens. “Avah, I’m so sorry. Are you—”
She waves away my concern. “Suffice to say, he won’t make it to the elopement.”
“Do you want to tell me why?” I ask slowly.
She glances at me as she pulls off the highway and heads toward the historic Pearl Street Mall. “I know you love a true crime documentary. He’s not a serial killer, if you’re wondering.”
I swallow. “Is he any kind of killer?”
“No,” she answers with a breathy laugh. “He ran an insurance scam on elderly people. Bilked hundreds of cotton-headed grandmothers out of their savings. It’s embarrassing.
I grew up as daddy’s little princess. The gifts he gave me…
the big house and fancy car…extravagant vacations—all of it was a lie. ”
“You were a kid, Avs. You have no reason to be embarrassed.” I pause then force myself to ask, “Did your mother know?”
I see my friend’s chest rise and fall with a slow breath.
“She denied any knowledge, but I think she understood there was something shady going on. She divorced my dad after the scandal broke. Reinvented herself. Both of us. Harris is my mom’s maiden name.
She changed our names before moving to Skylark. ”
“Does anyone in town know?”
Avah shakes her head. “It was like she orchestrated her own version of witness protection. Mom closed her eyes and put her finger on the map. That’s how we ended up here.
She broke ties with everyone she knew in Connecticut and kept any mention of our past vague.
There’s a lot you can get away with not saying when you’re a bitch to people.
I think that’s why I got so good at the mean-girl routine.
It kept everyone at arm’s length so they never got close enough to ask the right questions. ”
“I like you just the way you are.”
“Because you’re the nicest person on the planet.”
“Because you’re a good friend.” I reach out and squeeze her arm. “A good person.”
She rolls her eyes. “Hardly. I don’t know why I came back here after college. Mom packed up for Florida the day after my high school graduation like she was on the run. But there was something about Skylark that stuck with me.”
“It’s the mountains,” I tell her as Belle époque Bridal comes into view.
The shop is adorable. With cream-colored brick and forest-green trim, it’s tucked between a pottery studio and a vintage bookshop just off the Pearl Street Mall.
“Knowing they’re standing strong behind us, reminding us we can survive whatever comes our way, just like they have. ”
“That’s fucking woo-woo,” she says, her voice catching. “But maybe you’re right.”
“You should tell the rest of the book club. We’ve all been through our own messy family stuff. Trust me, nobody’s going to judge you for the mistakes your parents made.”
“You’re the only one who knows, Molly, and it’s staying that way.” She pulls into a diagonal parking space and hits the brake so hard I lurch forward as the seatbelt snaps tight against my chest.
“What about Jon?”
“Only you,” she insists.
I can’t hide my shock that her soon-to-be husband doesn’t know. “You’re marrying him.”
“He’s marrying now-me and future-me.”
“Is this why you’re eloping?”
“For your information, eloping is a trend in Colorado. We can marry ourselves. I’ve hired an expensive photographer to document the whole thing, and you’ll create my bouquet. It’s going to be beautiful.”
“But is it what you want?” I can’t wrap my head around outspoken, attention-loving Avah choosing to get married with just a photographer for company.
“Sadie and Ian had a private ceremony,” she says instead of answering my question.
“Piper, Felix, and Riva were there,” I counter. “They also had a big party to celebrate a few weeks later.”
“I’m going to celebrate on a honeymoon in Tahiti.
I don’t want anything else. Not with my family’s baggage hanging over me, and Jon’s high-profile position at the firm.
The last thing either of us needs is questions about why my parents aren’t there, or worse, having to explain if someone decides to dig into my past.”
“Okay,” I agree, as we get out of the vehicle, hearing the desperation in her voice. The vulnerability is so at odds with Avah’s typical confidence, it makes my chest ache. “I’m sorry I never asked about your family. I assumed your life was perfect.”
She begins feeding quarters into the parking meter. “No one’s life is perfect, but some of us have perfected the art of smoke and mirrors.” She looks up and offers me a genuine smile. “One of the many things I love about you is how you wave your baggage around like a calling card.”
“Wait a minute.” I lift a crutch and point it in her direction. “Am I your embarrassing-past beard? No one will question where you came from when you’re standing next to train wreck Molly.”
Ignoring the crutches, she pulls me in for a tight hug and grips my cheeks between her slender hands.
“You aren’t a train wreck. You are a badass bitch. A B.A.B. The babbiest of B.A.Bs.”
“That’s not a thing,” I say with a laugh.
“It is if we make it one.”
We’re almost to the door of the bridal boutique, but Avah stops and grips my arm.
“I don’t want to do this.” Her voice is serious again.
“The dress shopping or are you having second thoughts about Jon?”
She gives me a funny look. “I don’t mean getting married. But you know how the salespeople are at these places. They’re going to ask me the same kinds of questions you did. Am I having a big wedding? Are my parents so excited? Do I like my in-laws?”
“Do you like your in-laws?”
“Oh God, no.” Avah mock shudders. “They’re insufferable. But I don’t want to play at being rude so that the well-meaning salesperson stops asking questions.”
She leans back against the brick wall of the boutique. Her shoulders sag like she’s carrying an invisible weight. “I want to order a dress online, get married with just Jon and the photographer, have lots of honeymoon sex, and keep looking toward the future.”
If anybody understands the desire to leave the past behind, it’s me. “Then let’s go home,” I tell her. “We’ll find you the perfect dress online, and you’ll look absolutely stunning. You don’t owe anyone explanations or small talk.”
“Am I a total wimp?” She scrunches her perfectly pert nose. “Did you go dress shopping before your wedding?”
“Hardly.” I cough out a laugh. “I’d just packed up my grandparents’ house so I wore one of my grandma’s church dresses.
Teddy’s river rat friends felt even more sorry for him when I showed up looking like one of the Golden Girls.
But we aren’t talking about the awkward affair that was my wedding.
This trip is about you. If it’s not what you want, then it’s not what I want either. ”