Page 26 of Grumpy on the Mountain
It's always been this way with her. Even back when she was Riley's, I'd find myself watching from a distance, ready to jump up and help her the moment she needed it.
There's just something about Molly Jennings that makes me want to solve every problem she has.
Not because she can't—but becauseIneed to.
"It'll take ten minutes," I say, heading towards the tool supply I know too well in this house. "Might as well do it while I'm here."
Her smile is beautiful and absolutely genuine. "Thanks. I'll, um, help?"
I raise an eyebrow, but continue toward the garage. "Sure."
Pretty soon, I'm seriously reconsidering my offer.
"Is this the hammer thing you wanted?" Molly asks, holding up a screwdriver.
I don't even try to hide my exasperation. "That's a screwdriver."
"Oh." She bites her lip, scanning the array of tools I've laid out. "So you want the... other hammer thing?"
"Yes, Molly. Theactualhammer would be great."
She hands me a pair of pliers and I close my eyes and take a deep breath.
"Molly. The hammer. It looks like a hammer. It's literally the most recognizable tool in existence."
She finally grabs the hammer and practically throws it at me.
"In my defense," she says, laughter in her voice. "I've never needed to know what a hammer looks like. That's what maintenance people are for."
"What did you do before maintenance people?" I mutter, finding the hammer myself.
"Bold of you to assume there was a 'before.'" She shrugs. "Riley always handled that stuff. Or hired people. He said I'd probably hurt myself."
The casual mention of my brother sends a spike of anger through me. Of course Riley wouldn't teach her. Keeping her dependent was probably deliberate.
I focus on driving nails, reattaching the fallen section of fence to its post. Molly watches, hugging herself against the cold but seemingly content to observe.
"You're really good at this stuff," she says after a while. "Building things."
I grunt, not looking up.
"Sienna says you built your whole cabin yourself. That's amazing."
Another grunt. The fence is nearly fixed, which means I'll soon have no excuse to stay.
"Is it weird that I'm kind of excited to be alone?" she asks suddenly. "I mean, notalonealone. Sienna and Maisie are great. But for the first time in years, I'm making my own choices. Wearing my own clothes." She gestures to the suitcase I brought. "Going where I want. It's terrifying, but also... I don't know. Freeing?"
I glance up, caught by the vulnerability in her voice. She's staring at the mountains, eyes distant.
"Riley controlled everything," she continues softly. "What I wore. Who I saw. How I spoke. I didn't even realize it was happening until suddenly I couldn't recognize myself anymore."
My hand tightens around the hammer. If my brother were here right now, I'd introduce his face to the business end of it.
"Sorry," she says, shaking her head. "You don't need to hear all that."
I stand, dusting off my hands on my jeans.
The sadness in her eyes, the quiet admission of how completely my brother stripped away her autonomy… it hooks something in my chest I thought was long dead.
