Almost a Family

“Honey, what’s wrong?” Worry had the endearment slipping out without him even thinking about it.

At that moment, Kim rounded the corner with the cake, candles lit and singing “Happy Birthday”. He tore his gaze from Molly’s for a moment and when he turned back, she’d replaced her expression with one of bleak enthusiasm for Sara’s sake. The little princess perched on her chair while they all sang and she blew out her candles.

He didn’t get a chance to talk to Molly again until Kim took a very tired birthday girl upstairs to put on her pajamas. Molly was scraping dishes and loading the dishwasher, the light above the sink the only glow in the dark room. “Molly.”

Her hand paused for a moment, then put a teacup in the top rack.

He stopped her with a hand on her arm. “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong now?”

She sighed, a heavy exhalation of exhaustion and annoyance. “I don’t want to do this now, okay? Let it go.”

He turned her away from the dishwasher and looked her square in the eye. “If I did something to tick you off, I want to know.”

Her smile was grim. “You didn’t do anything. You’ve been great. Even when you were judging me earlier.”

He didn’t know how to answer, so he kept his lips closed.

“You’re not denying it. Well, at least I read that right. Don’t worry, Jason. This has nothing to do with you, not directly.”

“Then why the tears? Why are you unhappy?” Please, come to me, he thought. It had been hard enough to accept the fact that he still had feelings for her. She had to be the one to turn to him first.

Giggles erupted from upstairs and they both looked at the ceiling. When their gazes met again, Molly set her lips, erecting an icy barrier between them.

“Say goodnight to Sara, Jason. I need to talk to you, but not here, not now. Once the mess is cleaned up, I’ll come over. I promise.”

“You sound like you’re going to your own execution.”

She tried a laugh but fell flat. “Maybe. Just go home.”

Her tone was so weary, so defeated, he agreed. “I’ll wait up for you.”

She nodded, and before he could give in and kiss her like he wanted to, he headed for the stairs to say his goodbyes.

*

Jason entered his house, disturbed by how quiet it was after the chaos of next door. This was the time of day he hated the most…coming home to an empty, quiet house. Growing up he’d loved having his family together, laughing, talking, arguing. When his little brother had died, Jason had been eight years old, and suddenly the house had been quiet and solemn all the time. But then Uncle Jim and Aunt Susan and their kids had come to live with them for a while, and the house had seemed to fill with laughter and confusion again. By the time they’d left, his parents had been better able to cope with having only one child, and he’d been close with them always. He missed them still, but understood why they’d chosen to retire somewhere else. They visited when they could, but Jason knew the real way to get them to visit more often was to give them a reason—such as a daughter-in-law and a couple of grandkids.

He slumped on to the sofa. That had been the plan, but he was no closer to it now than he’d been six years ago when Molly had walked out on him.

It had been good before that. Why did she have to come back after all these years and stir up all the old memories? When she’d first arrived, their meetings had been about anger and regret. Somehow now, the anger had gone, and he was reminded of all the reasons he’d loved her to begin with. The more she was here, the more he saw glimpses of the old Molly, the girl he’d loved so much he’d wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.

Seeing the devastated look in her eyes at the party, knowing she would be coming over later, had put him in the frame of mind to be nostalgic. To recall the good times, not the fights or the bad ending. He grabbed a lighter and lit a few candles around the living room, turned on the CD player and, with a long held sigh, dropped to the couch.

He swallowed. He’d loved her completely. Why had he ever thought he could put that aside with anger as his weapon? All he’d done was hide behind the anger, denying the truth an

d never dealing with it.

Wax was dripping lazily from the candles when he heard the door open then shut again with a quiet click. He didn’t even bother to try to hide his melancholy mood. Perhaps now she deserved to know how very deeply she’d hurt him, how much he’d loved her. Perhaps now she needed to see the real results from her walking away. Perhaps it wasn’t about who would make the first move forward, but who would make the first one to deal with the fallout of the past.

She stopped in the doorway, and he saw indecision flicker in her eyes. “What are you doing?”

He smiled up at her. “Remembering.”

She took a few more steps in. “Remembering what?”

“The way we used to love each other.”

Molly felt her heart give two solid thumps and her hands began to shake. Not now. This was going to be hard enough without him getting all sentimental on her. Someone here had to keep a clear and unemotional head. She’d been hoping it wouldn’t have to be her.