“Apparently, he saw the two of you canoodling. Do you know what that word means? Because I sure didn’t and had to look it up. It means the two of you were—”
“Yes, I know what it means, Nana.”
“Well, he saw you two canoodling at the country club dinner just he week before, and he said it all made sense.”
“What made sense?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Nana said with a grin. “You’ll have to ask him.” She reached for the door and paused. “Did you tell him how you feel?”
Molly slowly shook her head. “No. It didn’t seem like the right time.”
“Uh-huh.” Nana opened the door but looked at her one last time before getting out. “You might want to make time, my dear, because life doesn’t follow a straight road. You might take a left somewhere along the way, and before you know it, your chance is long gone. You’ve hit a dead end and you’re weighted down with a truckload of regret. You don’t want that now, do you?”
“It’s not that simple, Nana.”
“That’s what most folks like to believe, but the truth is that it is that simple.” She winked and slid out of Molly’s truck. “I’ll be back for Thanksgiving, and hopefully by then, you’ll have found out I’m right.”
Molly waited until her grandmother was safely inside the house and then headed to the grocery story to pick up a few things. By the time she made the rounds, her cart was full. She nodded to a few clients as she waited in the checkout line, which looked busy. She pulled out her phone so she could scroll through the bazillion messages from the previous evening, and, not paying attention to much else, inched forward as the woman in front of her did. It wasn’t until Molly began to unload her stuff onto
the belt that she realized it was Chess Somers in front of her.
She was dressed in a pair of baggy sweatpants, an oversized sweater in faded red, and her long blonde hair had been pulled up into a loose pony. She was makeup free, and Molly got the feeling she kept her face averted because she didn’t want to speak to her. Which suited Molly just fine.
The cashier rang up the order and took Chess’s debit card, but after three attempts, returned it, saying a little too loudly that it had been declined. Each time.
“Oh.” Chess fumbled through her purse, looking for cash, but the order was close to eighty-five dollars and she only had thirty-two. She began to return items, picking and choosing what she needed, apologizing profusely, when the woman behind Molly began to complain loudly.
Molly saw Chess’s hands were shaking, and when she saw a tear slide down her cheek as she began to return a block of cheese, she stepped forward.
“I’ve got this,” Molly said to the cashier. “I’ll cover the rest.”
Chess looked shocked, her cheeks beet red. “No, I… There’s something wrong with the card. I’ll come back.”
“It’s okay. You can pay me later.” Molly handed the cashier her debit card, while the woman continued to complain behind them, each comment more insulting than the last.
Chess’s voice was clipped as she gathered up her bags. “I’ll make sure you get your cash right away.” She didn’t say goodbye or thank you, and for one minute, Molly felt like taking it all back. But then the woman from behind nudged her, a look of near delight on her face.
“You’re nicer than me, because I would not have done that. She’s no different from her mother. All high and mighty, thinking the world owes them something just because of the way they look. Now look at them. Living in the motel just off the main road and barely able to pay their bills. If you ask me, the both of them are getting what they deserve, and if that young one doesn’t change, she’ll end up an alcoholic just like her mother.”
Molly ignored the woman, but her words wouldn’t leave her. Not after she hauled her groceries home and put them away. Or when she took out a can of soup and heated it up for dinner. It seemed that Chess Somers had fallen on hard times. And while there might have been a time when the thought of it would give Molly some kind of satisfaction, at the moment, it made her tired. And sad.
It was only later, when she pulled out a blanket and flopped onto the sofa, that she thought of something else and acknowledged the pain that had jabbed her in the heart hours ago and never left. It was big and deep and wide, and she had no idea how she was going to live with it.
But then she realized that moping and feeling sorry for herself wasn’t going to do anything beyond making herself more miserable. She knew that being in a perpetual state of sadness wondering about what could have been would only bring her down. Sure, things weren’t great, but she had a life. She had a job she loved, and friends and family and a home she owned and all the bills that came with it, bills she could afford to pay. So even though it seemed like she was missing a big chunk of something, something she never really had, if she were being honest, she still had a hell of a lot more than some folks. And yes, there was a hole in her heart the size of the Grand Canyon, but she supposed there were lots of folks walking the earth with that same hole.
She thought of Chess. Of the bleak look in her eyes, the embarrassment and sadness. She thought of the complainer and her nasty words. In the space of a few minutes, the woman who’d been a thorn in her side for most of her adolescent life had managed to make her see through the façade and find the scared, insecure woman who lived there. Chess was obviously dealing with a lot, and it was the kind of stuff she had no control over. Money. Job. Alcoholic mother.
Molly could control this. She could learn to live with a broken heart.
Couldn’t she?
She picked up her cell phone and saw two missed calls from Nate. She sent him a text message because the sound of his voice might take her down one of those snaky roads her nana was talking about, and she couldn’t afford the time it would take to get back to where she needed to be.
Hope your flight was good. Talk soon.
Baby steps, she thought, settling back onto the sofa.
Baby steps.