Chapter 14
MOLLY
“Look who is so tan.” Molly got a running start before embracing her very best friend in the whole wide world. The friend who was fresh home from her honeymoon.
A week apart and so much had happened—cough Gavin
cough—and Molly just really missed Rachel.
“I missed you.” Rachel squeezed harder. “I’m never getting married again. It’s exhausting.”
“I could say something,” Travis said, sauntering by, “but it would probably be inappropriate.”
Molly released Rachel before turning her attention to Travis as she moved into their house. “How are you, stud?”
“I am good, gorgeous.” He slung his arm around Molly, leading her inside. The arm sling thing was allowed since he was totally in love with her best friend, so this was one-hundred percent platonic.
Travis released her to head to the kitchen. She really, seriously hoped he was going to mix up a pitcher of margaritas.
“Where’s Ollie?” Rachel dropped to the super comfortable sofa in her living room.
“Hanging out with Agnes.” When she’d left, there was an intense game of Connect Four going on in Agnes’s kitchen.
“What’s new in Mollyland?” Travis asked. And thank hell he had a bottle of Patron in his hand.
“Well…” Oh, where to start on all the shiny new things in her life? “I’m still the queen of bad decision land.”
Rachel made a come here motion. “Talk to me.”
“I should wait for the other girls, that way I don’t have to repeat myself.” Also, safety in numbers when Molly announced to her best friend that she was in a relationship of serious inconvenience with her ex-husband-slash-now-super-complicated-brother-in-law.
Rachel shook her head, and her eyes sparkled. “I think you should tell me.”
She said those words way too slowly, like she knew something. Already knew something…
“Oh my God. He told you.” Was killing a man who wasn’t really a boyfriend considered an act of passion?
Rachel pursed her lips and gave a subtle headshake.
“He didn’t tell me.”
“He told me.” Travis handed Molly a chilled glass of what she hoped to hell had lotsa liquor in it. “I told Rach,” he finished.
“What—” Molly lifted the magnificent margarita to her lips and took a giant slug. She’d walked the blocks over since she figured there would be cocktails and, also, the whole car on its last leg thing. “What exactly do you know?”
“I don’t know that that’s the point,” Rachel said, dodging the question.
“I think it’s precisely the point.” Molly didn’t mean to growl. Not really. Gavin just brought that out in her.
“I think you should start at the beginning,” Rachel said, taking her own glass from Travis and giving him some serious heart eyes. He returned them right back at her.
If it was anyone else, Molly would’ve groaned and told them to knock it off, but it was Rachel and Rachel deserved every bit of heart eyes that Travis wanted to sling in her direction.
“Okay.” Molly took another solid gulp of liquid courage. “Here’s the thing.” One more for good measure. “I actually don’t hate Gavin. Who knew?”
Rachel had a wry grin on her mouth. Travis sat on the arm of the sofa beside her, toying with her hair because apparently the newlyweds weren’t able to keep their hands off each other for over thirty seconds.
Molly sort of wondered, deep down, what that felt like, the whole need-to-touch-you-now part of a relationship?
She hadn’t even had that with Ollie’s dad.
They’d had a good tolerate-each-other relationship that she thought was more than it was. Hence…Ollie.
And being alone while everyone else around her found blissful happiness.
“I’m glad you two worked through your differences,” Rachel said, like she was a mediator and not Molly’s best friend, which required that she take her side on all things relationship related.
Which was, she should point out to herself, why this whole thing would remain firmly in the fakey-fake zone.
Molly gave the rundown of Ollie’s desire for stunt school, her car’s decision to creep along on its last legs, the house in the neighborhood that seemed too perfect to be true—even if it was a touch overpriced for the current market—and Agnes’s desire to match herself with Charlie.
She included the bit about Gavin and Travis’s mother’s attempts to find Gavin a soulmate, and the part where they agreed to be not-so-conveniently attached.
She didn’t mention the Skittles. Rachel already knew.
“But it’s only on paper,” Molly assured. “The relationship.”
“Did you actually make him sign something?” Rachel asked, one eyebrow raised.
No, but that would be a good idea. Molly shook her head, crossed her jean-covered legs, and rose to find more margarita fixings.
“I got you.” Travis slipped the cup from her hand and moseyed on into the kitchen like he’d just had seven days of blissful beach honeymooning with his new wife.
Molly fell back onto the sofa, letting the soft fabric wrap around her. Rachel was excellent at picking out furniture, that was for sure.
“I should make him sign something.” Molly pressed
her eyes closed and pushed against the bridge of her nose. “That would be a good idea.”
Rachel leaned forward and put her hand on Molly’s knee. “I don’t think we’re really having a discussion about good ideas here. But I actually don’t hate this whole thing. A project like this could be good.”
Molly peeled her right eyelid open.
“Good for who exactly?” Molly asked, just for the sake of clarity.
“You, silly. And him.” Rachel sipped at her cocktail. “You’ll both realize that the other is an exceptional human. And…” She spoke low and into the rim of her beverage, “Maybe there will be a spark.”
Say wha? Ha. No. No sparkage. No volts.
“How many margaritas did you have before I got here?” Molly asked, because this was now very pertinent information given that her friend appeared to be talking like she was wasted.
“None, actually.” Rachel sipped on hers like it was a crisp white wine. “Travis encouraged me to wait until you arrived.”
What did she mean by encouraged? Molly tilted her head to the side and studied her friend. Uh-oh. Right. Encouraged.
“You got laid, didn’t you?” Molly didn’t really have to ask, she knew her friend well enough to know how Travis had convinced her to wait.
“My kids come home in precisely thirty minutes.” Rachel laughed. “I had to take it while I still could.”
Molly paused mid-slug. Thirty minutes?
Oh, oh, oh no.
Shit on a salami sandwich. That meant Gavin would bring the kids by.
Here’s the thing: Molly had released any grip on expectations once they agreed to commit relationship fraud together.
They’d barely talked. Only a few brief texts after Molly’s—okay, she’d just call it what it was—Molly’s evacuation from Puffle Yum.
She’d bolted before her Evelyn tour. She needed some non-toaster-tart scented air—air in her own home, hiding under the covers of her own bed.
Then the text came.
Gavin: Date next Saturday. Ryers Gala Downtown. Black Tie. Pick you up at 7?
The totally reasonable text to let his pretend girlfriend know about a pressing need for a companion made sense.
She negotiated the time to 7:15, just to make her point that she had some control over her life.
Then she told him Agnes and Charlie were sorting out their next date and she’d let him know the day and time.
That’s when he sent her a thumbs up. That’s it.
No actual words.
Just a yellow thumb emoji of affirmation. Didn’t he know that was the universal sign for fuck off? Who did that? Molly preferred actual words. Call her old-fashioned.
“Are you sure you want company right now?” Molly asked. “I get it if you want to chill with your boys instead.”
“Silly.” Rachel gave her a funny look. Funny in that it seemed to see straight through Molly’s hesitation. “I invited
my friends over because I missed you all, too. I can hug on them and still drink margaritas with my girlfriends.”
“She’s good at multi-tasking that way,” Travis added. “Thanks for helping with my kids while I was gone. I
heard there were many burger runs for them.” Rachel did not use Gavin’s name, which Molly usually appreciated, but they should probably start using it more often.
“Gavin needed a break.” Molly lifted her shoulder. “And I like your kids.”
Even when they stuck candy up their nostril.
“Molly?” Rachel asked, tapping her fingertip against the condensation of her glass. “You know…” She glanced to Travis, then back to Molly, then back to Travis.
Travis made a pointed effort not to make eye contact with his wife.
Molly’s throat went thick, like she’d eaten a whole Kleenex and it got lodged funny.
Damn. She didn’t want this to be a whole thing.
“I don’t want this to be weird.” Molly took yet another sip of the cocktail. Fine. A gulp. She took a gulp of margarita.
“It’s not.” Rachel shook her head. “It’s just…”
“Just what?” Molly asked.
Maybe she should end this whole thing with Gavin. She didn’t want it to come between her and Rachel.
“Okay.” Rachel splayed her hands on her knees.
“So, Gavin and I were never meant to be a couple. We all know and agree with that. The ‘us’ thing just sort of happened. And I know you know that better than anyone else.” She slid her gaze to Travis.
He gave a subtle nod and continued playing with her hair.
“This is your friendly reminder that Gavin is a good guy,” Rachel said, the words adamant.
This was a regularly repeated mantra. Molly had always been certain Rachel was trying to convince herself as much as anyone else.
Today? She questioned that assumption.
“But he was a shitty husband,” Molly completed the thought for her. “I know. You’ve said.”
“I’d like to amend my statement,” Rachel said, running her teeth along her bottom lip.
“To?” This better be good.
“He wasn’t the right husband for me.” Rachel raised her eyebrows. “That’s all.”
She said it, but for some reason that didn’t feel like all. “Gavin is just having a hard time since Dakota left.”