Page 73 of Love in the Lab
Preparations for the conference take up a lot of our work time over the next couple weeks. We have to outline the presentation and practice it, plus arrange travel logistics like booking flights and finding a nice cat hotel for Beaker. The conference starts first thing on a Wednesday morning and goes through Friday late afternoon. Our presentation is on Friday.
Because of a prior commitment, Dr. Gantt can’t get to Las Vegas until Thursday, which means Molly and I fly in without her on Tuesday.
While I don’t enjoy conferences, I love traveling. I’ve never been to Las Vegas. Apparently, the conference center is right on the Strip, so we should have plenty of opportunities to sightsee in between conference sessions.
Our flight is only about half-full—I guess Las Vegas is not as much of a destination in the middle of the week—and Molly and I end up having a row to ourselves. After we stow our carry-ons and settle into our seats, Molly makes a quick call to her mom. I hear only her side of the conversation, but it rankles in more ways than one.
“Yes, Mom, I’ll be safe… Well, I can’t really control the flight, but I’ll be careful walking around the city once I get there.” Sheglances at me. “Yes, of course. He’s one of my co-researchers.” Her cheeks turn pink. “No, not really... Um … maybe? … I know.” She sighs. “Okay. Yes, I’ll see you next week for Thanksgiving… I love you, too.”
Reason number one the short phone call annoys me is that Molly still hasn’t told her family that we’re together. Her sisters and parents are the most important people in the world to Molly, and I’m sour that she’s keeping us a secret from them. We’ve discussed it several times, and she keeps going back to the excuse that she doesn’t want to deal with their teasing. I think it’s more than that. I think she’s waiting for me to get tired of her or something, and if that happens—which it never will—she’ll feel less embarrassed about it if her family never knew about the relationship in the first place.
My family knows all about her. She’s talked on video calls with Tamara a few times. I even mentioned the relationship to my dad—though itmayhave been as part of an excuse as to why I can’t come to Ohio for Christmas. Only my mom, who I haven’t talked to in a while, hasn’t heard about my girlfriend.
Reason number two it bothers me that Molly calls her mom right before we take off is the sweet simplicity of the love between them. Guilt over how I’ve continued to duck my dad’s calls niggles at me. I’ve been trying, and I just can’t find a way to be okay with him marrying Sharon. He wants an answer about Christmas, and as much as I’m certain I’m not going to Ohio, I’m also reluctant to tell my dad that. I know when I do, I’ll feel even more like an ungrateful brat.
These two reasons are why, when Molly switches off her phone and curls into my side, I’m already defensive. When she asks, “Do you need to call your dad before we take off?”, I downright bristle.
“No,” I say flatly. “He doesn’t even know I’m going anywhere.”
Molly sits up, her hand against my chest, and stares at me in disbelief. “He doesn’t know?”
I shrug. “I haven’t told him.” I did tell Tamara, and she likely told our dad, but explaining that fact doesn’t suit my mood at the moment.
Molly searches my face. I’m not sure what she sees written on it, but she rests her head back on my shoulder rather than forcing a conversation.
I shut my eyes and lean my head into hers. It’s hard to stay grumpy while I’m breathing in the subtle lavender scent of her hair. We sit this way, quietly leaning on each other, while the plane takes off and climbs higher until it reaches cruising altitude.
I clear my throat, and without changing position, I say, “My dad’s getting remarried.” Molly doesn’t respond, except to take my hand and link our fingers together, silently encouraging me to continue. “He and Sharon have been dating for two years. I feel like he’s betraying my mom. I know that doesn’t make any sense. They’ve been divorced for over a decade. I don’t know why I revert to a surly preteen with anything to do with my dad. It’s like I’m still sitting in that fog of hurt and confusion after my mom left.”
I stop talking, and after a moment, Molly tips her head up. “Is that why you’ve been ignoring his phone calls?”
I sigh. “Yeah. He wants to have the wedding in Ohio just after Christmas, and I haven’t told him for sure if I’ll make the trip home for it.”
“Will you?” She presses a sweet kiss to my neck, her lips feather soft against my skin.
“No. I can’t seem to tell him, though.”
Molly makes a humming noise that sounds from the back of her throat. “If you change your mind,” she says carefully, “I could go with you. Be your backup.”
That makes me smile. Molly’s all of five foot three, but her words make me picture her as a burly bodyguard with a neck tattoo. Mollycanbe ferocious with her biting retorts and barbed insults when she wants to be—I’ve been on the receiving end enough times. Even so, I know she means more like emotional backup, and no one is more perfect for that job than she is.
“Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind.” Her sweet offer leaves a bitter aftertaste. She’s open to spending her favorite holiday with me and my family, but her own family still thinks I’m her archnemesis or whatever.
As if she’s reading my mind, Molly’s face twists into a frown. “And actually—” She hesitates, but when she continues, she’s resolute. “Will you come to Texas with me next week? To see my family for Thanksgiving?”
Warmth radiates through my chest. “As what, Carrots?” I ask, only partially teasing. “Your co-researcher? Your friend? Your archnemesis?” I say the last word pointedly, but I’m grinning.
Chagrined, Molly bites her bottom lip and blushes. “As my boyfriend.”
“Are you sure?” I probe. “You’ll tell your family?”
“Yes,” she says. “I should have told them weeks ago.”
“No arguments here.” I lift my arm and loop it around her shoulders, pulling her closer to me.
She puts a hand on either side of my face and looks into my eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel like you aren’t important to me. The truth is, you’re everything to me, and honestly that feels a little scary.”
“For me, too,” I murmur. “I love you.”
