Page 43 of Molly
Everyone stared at Jocelyn, waiting.
“We’re still waiting on two more,” she pronounced.
“What, didn’t think to sell tickets?” I groused.
“You were dramatic enough to,” she quipped.
Betsy strolled in with my mom a second later, and I buried deeper into the couch and behind the pillow.Mortification, how cruel is your company.
Jocelyn got everyone caught up to speed, sparing no detail.
“Love? Really?” Betsy sounded annoyed, which matched themy level of sarcasm depends on your level of stupiditygraphic tee she wore.
“Did you kiss him, or did he kiss you?” Amanda wanted to know.
Mom moved from the chair by the sewing machine and evicted Amanda from her spot beside me. She wrapped her arms around me and pressed my head to her shoulder. She ran her hands along my hair like she had when I was a girl in need of comfort. “Are you sure it’s love, baby girl?”
“What else could these feelings be? When I’m with Ben and Chloe, I feel happy and I can’t imagine any place I’d rather be. I’m always thinking of them, and being with them, together as a family, is the best part of my day. Ben is different than any man I’ve ever met before. The depth of his love for Chloe stirs something in my heart. And when he hurts…well…it sounds silly, but I hurt along with him. If that’s not love, what is?”
Mom continued to stroke my hair. “That’s the tenderness of your caring heart. The empathy that God graced you with to enable you to offer comfort and solace. And maybe there are seeds of love there. Stirrings and beginnings. But being able to imagine a future with someone or feeling the thrill of passion when you’re around them isn’t true love.”
“What is true love, Mrs. Osbourne?” Amanda leaned against the sewing machine table.
A serene smile graced Mom’s lips. The kind she got when she thought of Dad. “True love is the act of doing. You know you’re in love because you make the conscious decision to be. Love isn’t something that sneaks up on you or a hole you fall into. You invest yourself in it, in someone, and exert an effort to support, care, and speak the language of their heart.” Her smile widened. “Their interests and needs become just as, or even more important, to you than your own, and you’re willing to be patient and mindful of those needs.”
An uncomfortable niggle scratched at my conscience.
Mom arrested me with a knowing look. “Were you understanding of Ben’s needs or did you get swept up in the moment?”
The current of his gaze had knocked me off my feet. I shouldn’t have leaned forward and touched my lips to his. Being that close to him, breathing in his scent, had scrambled my brainwaves. But was a kiss from me really what he needed right then?
As much as I wished the answer to be yes, I knew in my heart the opposite was true. Even though all I’d wanted to do since first stepping into his and Chloe’s lives was to take care of him, my moment of weakness acted like a lever in a laundry shoot, heaping more piles of stress over his head.
“What are you going to do now?” Jocelyn asked quietly.
I sat up straighter. “Apologize, I guess?”
Betsy folded her arms over her chest. “Has anyone in the history of the world ever appreciated being apologized to after being kissed?”
“Maybe you don’t have to say you’re sorry about the kiss, just that you kissed him.” Nicole lifted her apron over her head.
Amanda sighed. “This is starting to sound really complicated.”
“Matters of the heart usually are,” Mom agreed.
“What if I say the kiss was nice but I understand it can’t be repeated?”
“But what if he wants to repeat the experience though? Most guys I know don’t have problems when women kiss them.”
Betsy threw a pillow at Amanda. “Most guys you and I know have their sexual exploits plastered all over the media for the world to watch. Something tells me Ben isn’t like those guys.”
“Take it from another single parent.” The apron twisted in Nicole’s hands. “He’s thinking about more than himself in regards to starting any sort of relationship. He has his daughter and her feelings and future to consider as well.”
Jocelyn readjusted her position on the couch. “Maybe you shouldn’t do anything.”
“Nothing?” I had to do or say something, didn’t I?
“Hear me out,” she continued. “You let your affection push you to make a move you knew deep in your heart he wasn’t ready for. Maybe you should wait now and let him respond in his own time instead of rushing in again.”
