Chapter 12
MOLLY
“Blow,” Charlie commanded, again.
Kellan blew.
His eyes bugged, but nothing came out his nose.
“Like you mean it, soldier,” Charlie demanded. “Don’t let those medics near your brain. You work this candy out or you get the pliers. You don’t want the pliers.”
Kellan’s eyes bugged again. “I don’t want the pliers.”
“Then blow,” Charlie said, gruff.
Now, Molly wasn’t the one being directed, but the way Charlie took control, the tone he used, and the options he gave? She was ready to make an attempt to give up some snot there in the lobby of the movie theater just to avoid the
pliers herself.
She should work on that type of command. Her mom voice usually worked, but this drill sergeant thing was probably way more effective.
Kellan gave a solid effort that was rewarded with a semi-dissolved green Skittle bouncing off the napkin and hitting the carpet of the movie theater hallway.
Yup, more effective.
“Thank God,” Gavin said, snatching it with a second brown napkin.
“The name’s Charlie, but I’ll take it.” Mr. Davenport—Charlie—rocked back on his heels. “Don’t put things in your nose that don’t belong there.”
Sage words, if Molly had ever heard them.
“Can I keep it?” Kellan asked, peering into the napkin his dad held.
“What would you do with it?” Molly asked, because ew. “I dare you to eat it.” Brady’s eyes lit up at the idea.
Every adult in the hallway gave him some serious side-eye.
“I’ll give you a dollar,” Ollie added.
Molly opened her mouth to tell her child that he was not
spending his money on—
“No one is eating it.” Gavin wadded up the napkin and tossed the whole thing into the nearest trash can with pretty remarkable aim and distance. “And now it’s time to go home.”
“The movie’s not over yet,” Ollie pointed out. Literally, he pointed back to the room where the movie continued playing with no one watching.
“I don’t know what Gavin’s rule is, but my rule is that
once someone is threatened with a doctor visit, we all go home.” Molly placed her hands on Ollie’s shoulders, ready to guide him outside. If history was any indication, when one of the boys went without much of a fuss, the rest would likely follow.
“But I didn’t need the visit.” Kellan balked at the rule. “Can we stay, Dad?”
“My rule is now the same as Molly’s rule.” Gavin stuck his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “Get your stuff together, guys.”
“Can I at least go over to their house?” Ollie asked. “Can he?” Brady asked. “It’s still early.”
It wasn’t early, not really. Not for a school night. Also, Gavin looked like he needed a stiff drink and some time to think about his life choices.
“We’re going home, too,” Molly said, because the movie was nearly done anyway and she was definitely done.
“Moooom.” Ollie slumped.
“Get your stuff.” Molly tilted her head toward their pile. “And roll out.” Thankfully, all the kids followed her direction.
“I’m not sure how you just did that.” Gavin moved close to her, but not too close. Not like they’d been in the theater. They’d been…friendly. Playful. And that was not like her.
Well, it was—she was playful. But not with Gavin. “Witchcraft,” she replied.
“Well, it is appreciated.” He sounded sincere. What the hell was up with him?
She decided to just embrace it for what it was. “You’re welcome.”
“That whole thing didn’t go how I thought it would,” he
said.
“It never really does, you know?” She straightened her purse against her shoulder. “That’s life with kids. One minute you’re enjoying a bad car chase and the next you’re dealing with the internal workings of your son’s nose.”
“I guess it could’ve been worse—”
“No. Nuh-uh.” She shook her index finger in his direction. “We never say that. Never. Never. Never.”
Because that was the equivalent of summoning the make-it-worse fairies and those fuckers were always available to lend a hand when you least wanted them to.
“Take it back,” she said.
He didn’t take it back. He did glance down to the carpet, then back to her. “Molly, I was thinking…”
Whatever he was thinking? Alarm bells were going off in her brain. He had the look of a guy about to ask a girl out.
And that was not going to be her. He was Gavin. She was Molly.
They were friendly now. But there was no way they’d be anything more. Nope. No. Never. Never. Never.
“Don’t think, Gavin,” she said, going for light and fun and breezy. Look at her being so breezy. “It’ll break your brain.”
Don’t do it, Gavin. Don’t say something we’ll both have to regret later.
“I just wanted to say thanks for being so great to my kids. You’ve always been there for them and…” He pulled at his bottom lip with his teeth. “I appreciate it.”
Oh.
That was not what she thought he was going to say. By all measurements it was better than what she’d expected. So
why did she feel so disappointed? Best not to dissect that too far.
“You’re welcome,” she said in lieu of any further dissection.
He chuckled. “I’m gonna…” He glanced toward where Charlie and Agnes stood by the concessions stand. “Say thanks.”
He paused, like he was going to say something else. “For the Skittle removal,” he finished, taking three
steps backward.
Molly did her best to focus on anything other than Gavin as he gave a firm handshake to Charlie and said something to Agnes that made her blush.
If Agnes hadn’t been falling head over teakettle for Charlie before, she was now all googly eyes and eyelash flutters in his direction. So, later that night, when faced with the task of recounting their first date for the video log, it was a piece of cake.
She had plenty of experience in front of the camera for her YouTube dating tips show, but usually she gave examples that weren’t about anyone identifiable.
Staring into the lens and talking about Agnes felt authentic, so she covered what made Agnes such a catch and Charlie’s Skittle removal technique.
Even she knew she was in the zone with this one.
See? This wasn’t hard. She introduced people.
She followed them on a date. They removed candy from a nostril.
Maybe she should go into matchmaking.
She posted the video on the radio feed—they were doing a weekly countdown of some kind in the studio on the live version. Of course, she added a cross connection to her personal channel.
The likes and shares started at a good pace. Not viral territory, but she wasn’t a slouch either and she was already getting votes. That was promising.
The more votes she got, the more likely she’d—well, along with Charlie and Agnes—move on to the next round of competition.
Maybe, just maybe, this could work out.
The light feeling in her chest felt like hope. Hope was good.
Perhaps, just perhaps, everything would turn out okay.
* * *
The pounding on the front door was way too early for Molly. Was it after seven? No. So then why was she awake?
She pulled on her robe and slogged down the stairs to the back door.
Agnes.
Molly tightened the robe around her middle and pulled open the door.
“Everything okay?” she asked, her voice still croaky from just waking up.
“We only have a minute.” Agnes moved through Molly’s house like she owned the place. Which, technically, she did. “Charlie doesn’t like to wait.”
“You’re walking with Charlie again?” Molly flicked on the coffee pot so at least if she was up she would have some of the early morning good stuff.
“I am.” Agnes did a little shimmy shake.
Who was this woman? And why was Molly having to figure it out early and without any caffeine in her
bloodstream?
“And he doesn’t like to wait,” Agnes said, again. “After one day, you are an expert in his likes and
dislikes?” Molly drummed her fingers on the counter, willing the drip to move along faster.
“I’m not here to talk about me.” Agnes pointed to Molly’s laptop. “Have you checked your stats?”
“I’m barely awake.” Molly hadn’t even pulled her unruly hair back to get the door. She was still full Medusa.
Agnes slid the laptop toward Molly with the edge of her fingertip. “You need to check your stats and then we need to come up with a solution.”
“What’s wrong with my numbers?” They’d been fine the night before. Promising was definitely a term Molly would apply to the situation. She gave a longing glance to the still-dripping coffee pot. Certain things were clear, and one of those was that she’d have to wait for her coffee fix.
“You’ve got competition, sweetheart.” Agnes nudged the laptop closer.
Molly tossed her hands wide. “It’s literally a matchmaking competition.”
“No.” Agnes pierced Molly with a brown, icy stare. “You are the shoo-in. But you just got scooped by a guy named Peter McNamara.”
Molly trudged away from the coffee pot, sans liquid strength, and flipped open her laptop. She brought up the competition stats and…her heart sank. Sure enough, she’d been knocked into second place. Though, her showing was still impressive.
A few clicks and she brought up the other guy competing for first place. Peter McNamara.
Oh, he was cute.
“Peter McNamara here, with my husband Chris.” Also, super cute. Double trouble.
Molly slid her gaze to Agnes. They might as well pack up their lotto tickets now because they were not going to win this competition.
Case in point? Damn, his husband was also a couples counselor.
Which meant he knew a helluva lot more about long term happiness than Molly did.
“You will not believe the couple I spliced together out of perfect chemistry,” Peter said on the monitor. “I present to you—”
Chris beat out a drumroll on the edge of his chair. “Mary and Doug,” Peter announced, moving to
welcome the two to what seemed to be an actual movie set. “They are divorced,” Peter added.
“Not from each other, though,” Chris chimed in. “From other people. This was their first time meeting.”
“And we have pictures,” Peter added, holding up some snaps of the two people. Prints. Actual, honest to God prints.
They oohed and ahhed over the date that actually looked super fun.