Page 54 of Molly
Dang, that sounded good.Mine.
Did that make me a Neanderthal? Whack her over the head with my club and drag her back to my cave. My need for her felt primal. Not in a carnal sense but in a central, fundamental way. As if I were core DNA and Ihadto wrap around a histone octamer—Molly. The reaction her presence had created in me had been no less than life-giving. She’d bound me back together like hydrogen when I’d almost completely fallen apart. Without her, I’d be a broken DNA chain model—a mess of plastic double-helix balls rolling around on the floor.
I checked my heart, making sure the seasons of grief and tears had passed fully and I was completely committed to opening a new chapter in my life. I would always love Laura and carry her around with me, but I found I could treasure the memory of her and the impact she’d had on my life and still have all of my devotion to offer Molly. Because it wasn’t enough that she’d awakened life in me. I wanted to be able to give something to her in return. My affection. My fidelity. Yes, even my love.
Drew started humming a tune, a ridiculous smirk on his face. If not for the country station that played nonstop in the doctor’s lounge, I wouldn’t have recognized the melody asReady to Love Againby Lady Antebellum. I pushed on his shoulder as I passed him. “I’ll see you later.”
“Hopefully with a woman on your arm,” he called to my retreating back.
I raised my hand in acknowledgment, very much enjoying that mental picture. Although, I didn’t want Mollyonmy arm. I wanted herinmy arms. My feet picked up speed as I crossed the road to the parking garage, praying for a miracle that the 5 would be clear of any traffic and I’d make it back home in record speed. Lydia Osbourne had assured she would take care of our girls, but that caveman inside me wanted to correct her. She’d been taking care ofmygirls.
I had just used my blinker to merge onto the highway from the onramp when my phone rang. A press to the Bluetooth button and my mother’s voice came from the car’s speakers. “Hi, Mom.”
“Hi, honey. Listen, I plan to video call later so I can talk to Chloe. How is she, by the way?”
A semi passed me on the left, rocking my car with the dispersed air the rig left behind. I gripped the steering wheel. “She’s doing well. Can write both her first and last name now.”
Mom cooed. “How precious. I miss my little pumpkin.”
“She misses you, too.”
“And that teacher you got to watch her? She’s working out? No need for nanny cams or anything?”
Mom would find out soon enough just how well things with Molly had worked out. But I had to work that out with Molly first. “Everything here is great, Mom. How are things with you and Dad?”
Her loud sigh made a crackling noise over the speakers. “That’s why I’m calling. Your father’s doctor wants to put him on a new prescription. He explained the benefits and possible side effects with me, but I’d be a lot more comfortable if you’d either talk to him yourself or look over your father’s chart and the medication and tell me if you think this new drug will help Dad at all.”
I changed lanes to pass a slow car. “I can do that. How is Dad doing?” The last time I’d seen him had been at Christmas. Chloe and I had flown out to spend the holidays with them, but the guilt at not being there to take care of them, of feeling helpless, had dampened any of my holiday cheer. I’d spent the first three days trying to convince them to come back to California with us until Mom had started speaking very low and slow in Greek to me. She only spoke Greek when she was upset. I’d backed off after that.
“He’s a fighter, your father.”
Meaning if I wanted to get any real updates, I’d have to call Dr. Wiseman. In Mom’s eyes, Dad was Leonidas and the autoimmune disease battling in his body was no better than the invading Persians. I didn’t have the heart to remind her that Leonidas fell at Thermopylae. And I prayed a different outcome for my father.
“You know I would love it if you would consider moving out here.” Another Spartan in the family who fought against the odds.
“You have enough on your plate. We do not want to be a burden.”
“You aren’t a burden, Mama.”
“Min diafoneís mazí mou.” Do not argue with me.
I knew better than to try. She may not be close enough to box my ears, but they still rang with the dozens of times she’d done so when I’d been a child.
“Yes, Mama.”
“Good. You call Dr. Wiseman and get everything figured out, and I will call you and my darling Chloe later this evening.Ta leme.”
“Bye.” The Bluetooth disconnected as I pulled onto my street. I blew out a puff of air. Dr. Wiseman was a nice guy and a competent physician, but it was hard overseeing Dad’s care from so far away. If only I could convince them to move in with Chloe and me, then—
Oh.
Having them move had seemed like the perfect solution…before Molly. I could help with Dad, and Mom could help with Chloe. That wouldn’t work so well now, would it? Asking Molly to be a part of Chloe’s and my life seemed a lot as it was. A relationship usually had only two components—the man and the woman. Chloe added a third factor. If Mom and Dad entered the equation, then the math was only getting more and more complicated.
Maybe it was selfish of me to continue forward when other men would step back, but an arctic frog whose metabolic temperature rises with the thawing of the earth didn’t return to a form of stasis. He sought the sun. And Molly was my sun, warming my heart to life again, though it would be up to her whether or not she wanted to continue shining in Chloe’s and my lives.
But I’d have to find out after I called Dr. Wiseman. Which would have to happen after I checked to make sure Molly was feeling better and hadn’t become sicker through the night. I opened and shut my car door and then the front door as quietly as possible in case Molly was still asleep. I didn’t want to disrupt her body’s process of fortifying the immune system.
Soft voices filtered from down the hall as I set my keys and wallet in a bowl near the door. I carefully picked my way into the living room, eyes drawn to the figure curled on the couch. She had a blanket tucked under her chin, her fading pink hair splayed across a pillow and her glasses pushed askew at an odd angle, partly on the edge of the bridge of her nose and partly over one eye. I knelt in front of her, taking my time to study the delicate bone structure of her face. Her lids fluttered in sleep as I reached forward and gently took ahold of her frames and pulled them from her face. Their awkward placement couldn’t have been comfortable but hadn’t seemed to disturb her sleep.
