Chapter 32
Chapter Thirty-Two
Molly
“Why won’t you stop calling?!” I yell at my phone where it sits innocently on the passenger seat of my car. I really thought I silenced it after ignoring my parents’ sixth call since yesterday morning. There’s a reason we don’t keep in touch, and if I needed a reminder, I sure got it yesterday.
I pull to a stop at a red light and reach over to possibly chuck the damn thing out the window when I see a different name on the caller ID than I anticipated. I quickly click accept and bring it to my ear.
“Hi, Andrew,” I greet Matty’s counselor, forcing my tone to go from pissed off to pleasant.
“Hello, Molly. Just checking in real quick to let you know I’m filing Matthew’s monthly report, and I’m really pleased with the progress we’ve made in such a short time,” Andrew says in a friendly manner.
Thank you, God , I mouth silently to the ceiling of my car as I continue waiting for the light to turn. “That’s great to hear. Any big concerns?” We’ve been making strides, and Matty is talking to me a little more. He still loses his temper now and then and withdraws sometimes, but there haven’t been any more fights at school. Knock on wood.
“Well, it’s always good to be vigilant when bullying is involved, and Matthew is still working through a few issues on that. But it takes time.”
“I understand. Well, thanks for the update, Andrew. I appreciate it.”
“No problem. I’ll email you a copy of the report and see you both next week.”
“Great.” We hang up and I exhale loudly, dropping my head back to the headrest. Well, at least one thing is going right.
The light changes and I accelerate through the intersection while continuing to draw in calming breaths. Anger isn’t one of my go-to emotions, but my parents have a special way of teasing it out of me, so I’ve been a bit of a hot mess the last twenty-four hours. At least anger feels more productive than continuing to mope around about Bobby.
Maybe the call with my mom was just the thing I needed, though, to reassure me that I’m making the right choice by pumping the brakes with Bobby. The minute I heard my mother’s voice yesterday morning, I knew exactly why she was calling, even though she started out with the usual pleasantries.
It was the same old song and dance, though. She and my dad had thought something was a sure thing and, as usual, it fell apart, leaving them broke. Again.
“If you could just spare a few thousand, it would make all the difference, sweetie,” my mother coaxed. Just hearing her voice made my skin feel too tight and brought back all the memories I try never to think about. Like how she stole all the birthday and Christmas money I’d been collecting over the years from my grandparents and spent it on call-in psychics and scratch-offs. Or how my dad scammed my friends’ parents and then my friends weren’t allowed to come over anymore. Or how the only way we had decent food to eat and heat in the winter was because I worked my ass off at after school jobs.
My parents have always lived in an alternate universe where you can just wish things into being by sheer will or hope. They have no use for practicality, as is evidenced once again by their latest catastrophe. I learned from experience that the majority of times, things don’t work out like you want, and the sooner you smarten up and accept that, the easier your life will be.
“You know I would never ask if it wasn’t an emergency,” my mother continued as I focused all my energy on not freaking out my son by screaming bloody murder into the open refrigerator.
“Mom, I’m sorry, but I can’t help,” was the response I repeated at least four times throughout her lengthy explanation. Sure, I’ve got the money coming from Bobby’s commission, but that’s Matty’s and my money, and I’m not the same young, naive teenager who thought it was her job to be responsible for grown adults who make terrible choices and refuse to learn from their mistakes.
The call ended when I lied and told her I had to leave for work. To her credit, she only sighed and said she loved me. I told her I loved her too because I do, despite how hard I’ve tried not to. It turned out to be a bad decision, however, because it apparently made my dad feel like he had permission to call an hour later. I chose not to answer that time—nor the four following times.
I have spent my entire adult life determined not to make any of the same mistakes my parents made. I got my associate’s degree while working two jobs, I always pride myself on being a model employee wherever I work, I’m frugal and thoughtful in how I spend my money, and I don’t deal in fantasies and pipe dreams. Ever.
Until very recently, that is.
Sigh.
I turn into the arena parking area as the sun drops toward the horizon, and I find a spot on the outskirts of the wives and girlfriends parking. Good thing I’m wearing sneakers tonight. I am not, however, wearing Bobby’s jersey. It just didn’t feel right.
It’s been radio silence since I texted Bobby last night about stepping back. I know doing that by text was the coward’s way out, but the man asked my kid and me to move in with him via text, so it was more of a reflex than anything. Part of the reason I’m going to tonight’s game is to speak to him in person afterward.
His impulsiveness always has him putting the cart before the horse, even if it’s not in his best interest. He may think he wants us to move in right now, but that could change. And did he assume it wouldn’t be a big deal for me to uproot our entire lives to play house with him? Talk about impractical! I mean, sure, if our relationship was further along and we knew for certain we had a future together, it might make sense, but we’ve only been officially dating for a month! Even if it feels like it’s been a whole lot longer. I’ve dated jackets for longer than that before cutting the tags off.
The guard scans my ID and I head to the stands to climb to the upper deck where the wives and girlfriends suite is. But then I pause. What am I doing? If we’re taking a break, why am I going to watch with all the wives and girlfriends? I’m standing at the landing, considering my options when I see Kaitlyn waving to me from down by the Storm Chasers’ bench. She never watches in the suite, preferring instead to be closer to the action. And the violence.
Crap. Now that she knows I see her, I have to go down there.
“Hey, Molly!” We hug in greeting.
“Where’s Mei tonight?” I gesture to her empty hands.
“Banks’s family is in town. His mom took possession of Mei the second she walked in the door and hasn’t given her up since.”
I laugh. “Sounds heavenly.” Blake’s parents used to do that sometimes, and it was always a welcome reprieve.
“You headed up to the WAGs’ suite?”
I hesitate, and before I can come up with an answer, I hear my name being called. We both look to the ice where Bobby is standing by the bench looking our way. “Meet me down there!” he yells, gesturing to the right.
Shit! I didn’t want to distract him before the game, but it looks like it’s too late. I muster a smile for Kaitlyn and head over to meet Bobby by a set of doors being guarded by a security guy.
“Aren’t you supposed to be warming up?” I ask as soon as Bobby emerges. He’s dressed in all his gear and holding his helmet in one hand. With the skates on, he towers over me.
“I was afraid you weren’t going to come.” He’s wearing a nervous smile, and it’s so hard not to go on my tiptoes and kiss him. But I really need time to think and reassess, and he deserves to hear it in person. Even if being around him makes me want to change my mind and ditch rationality in favor of rainbows and unicorns and orgasms.
“I wanted to see you.” I have to raise my voice to be heard over the announcer and the swell of cheers from the crowd. “We can talk after the game.”
His eyes drop to my sweater and his jaw tics. Clearly, he’s noticed I’m not wearing his jersey. “No, I want to talk now.”
“Bobby.” I glance around nervously as the lights dim in the arena. He needs to get his butt out of here and rejoin his team.
“Molly, I’m sorry if I made you feel pressured by asking you to move in. I just love spending time with you and Matthew, and I wanted you to know how sure I am about us.”
“Bobby, I...how can you be so sure? You haven’t even thought of all you might be missing out on by hitching yourself to an instant family, much less an older partner. When I think about my twenties, I feel like I was a different person back then. You’re supposed to be able to grow and change as you go through your thirties, and you should absolutely do that.”
“And I’m sure I will. With you.”
I shake my head. “It doesn’t work like that. I don’t work like that. We’ve only been dating for a month, Bobby. This is just all too fast, and I need to take a step back to do what’s best for my family.”
He clenches his teeth, then releases. “By step back, you mean you’re breaking up with me?”
I swallow hard, my pulse thumping in my neck. “If that’s what you want to call it,” I croak.
His chin drops to his chest as the announcer’s voice booms through the speakers and he begins introducing the Gold Rush’s first line. I can barely hear Bobby, yet I make out his words. “I can’t believe this. I love you, Molly.” The look in his eyes says he’s not lying one bit, and my heart tears apart.
I go on my tiptoes to make sure he can hear me. “And I love you. But love doesn’t automatically fix everything. Believe me.” I’ve got a whole suitcase full of examples from my life.
“Why not?”
I almost want to smile at the question because it’s so...Bobby. “The fact that you’re asking that question tells me I’m making the right decision. Let’s take the holidays apart and then we can talk in the new year.”
His nostrils flare. “So, your mind is going to change in the new year?”
I owe it to him to be truthful. “I don’t know.”
“I think I do.” A series of flashes go off, and we both turn to see a photographer snapping our picture. “Shit!” Bobby bites out, turning so his back is to the guy.
“Bobby, I think you need to go.” I gesture behind him. “Your team is taking the ice.” I don’t want him getting into trouble with the coach on top of this awful conversation.
He gives me a hard look, one that shows all his conflicted feelings. And I want to pull him in and kiss him. Make it all better. But that won’t work. Instead, I let him go and wander the stands until I find an inconspicuous spot from which to watch the game.
It’s evident from the second Bobby’s skates hit the ice in the first period that he’s on edge. He’s hogging the puck and misses every time he shoots for the goal. The coach is going hoarse yelling at him and then lecturing him when he hits the bench. In the second period, he gets two penalties and spends more time in the penalty box than on the ice. By the third period, I can’t stand it any longer. I leave when Bobby trips his own teammate, Pete Fornier, and the Gold Rush steal the puck to score. The tension in the arena is palpable, and I can’t help feeling like it’s all my fault.
“What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be off for the next week.” Coco stands with her arms crossed beside my office chair the next morning.
“I’m just grabbing a few things, I promise, boss.” I rifle through my top drawer for a flash drive I need in case clients reach out over the holiday. Just as my fingers close around it, my cell phone vibrates on top of the desk. “Don’t answer it!” I yell.
Coco pulls her head back and stares at me like I just spontaneously morphed into a dragon right before her eyes and might barbecue her. “Are you okay, darling?”
I shake my head. “Sorry. Just a bit jumpy.” I muster a forced smile as I grab my phone to shove it back in my bag. But that’s when I see it’s Matty’s school calling, not Bobby or my parents again. Shit! To think that we almost made it to Christmas break without more drama.
“Hello, this is Molly Sparks,” I answer, immediately pulling my lip between my teeth to gnaw on it.
“Ms. Sparks, this is Vice Principal Finley.”
“Is there a problem with Matthew?” I get straight to the point.
He pauses, making me wonder exactly how bad it is that the man can’t speak. Finally, he says, “In a manner of speaking. Are you available to come to school?”
Crap, crap, crap!
“Of course.” I check my watch. “I can be there in twenty minutes.”
“I’ll see you when you get here. Just come straight to the office.”
I hang up and hike my bag up onto my shoulder. “Damn!” I turn to Coco. “Sorry, Coco, I have to run. It’s Matty’s school.”
“Oh dear,” she responds. “Good luck.” When I thank her and book it to the back door, she calls out behind me, “Text me later so I know everything is okay!”
I make it to the school in record time, pulling into a parking spot just as the buses are lining up to take kids home from the half-day before break. This is so not how I wanted to start the holidays. It’s bad enough that I have to break it to Matty that Bobby won’t be around for Christmas. Now I might have to ground him too. Merry freaking Christmas.
When I go through security and then step up to the front desk and give my name, the woman behind the desk gasps. At first, I think maybe someone famous just walked in behind me, but I quickly realize her attention is focused only on me.
“Oh my god!” she exclaims, her salt and pepper curls bouncing around her face. “You’re Molly Sparks.”
“Um...yes.” I did just introduce myself, so I’m entirely unclear why this news is so noteworthy.
“I was just reading about you and that hot young hockey player of yours! Lemme grab it.” She digs around in her purse while the blood drains from my face.
“Oh! No need!” I try. “I’m just here to see Vice Principal Finley.”
But she’s entirely undeterred, practically squealing as she unearths the device and swipes her finger over the screen before turning it my way. And right there in vivid color is a shot of Bobby and me from last night’s game, deep in conversation and oblivious to prying eyes.
She turns the screen back to examine it herself with an almost hungry expression. “What I wouldn’t give for a fling with some young stud like Roadie.” She lifts her eyes to me. “We might have a few more miles on us, but even us older women have needs, am I right?”
It takes everything I have not to turn around and flee. But I must be on God’s rotation today because the vice principal chooses that moment to stick his head out of his office. “Molly?”
“Yes!” I practically shout and then stride toward him in case he was thinking of coming out for some small talk with me and the young-hockey-stud enthusiast.
“Enjoy yourself for the rest of us!” the woman calls behind me as I step into his office. Dear god.
“Hey, Mom.”
My head whips around. Matty leans against the far wall of the office. But instead of a worried or guilty expression, my son is wearing a devilish grin.
Uh oh.