All the Difference (28 page)

He glanced at her.

“I want you to know that you don't have to worry about me anymore. I know I've been going about this the wrong way. See, I've been thinking about you a lot. A whole lot, actually. You are constantly on my mind,” Scott said. “You're in my head when I go to bed at night, and you're the first thing I think about when I wake up. It's like, I didn't need you when I had you, but now I can't live without you. I'm obsessed.”

Scott had his arms braced on his knees, and was staring at his clasped hands. Molly's jaw had gone slack with shock. Before she could respond, Scott turned to look at her.

“Marry me, Molly.”

She was still sitting on the bed, poorly covered from the waist up, with a child latched to her breast. Molly blinked, and wondered if she needed to get her hearing checked.

“I'm serious.” Scott leaned toward her now, his face earnest and determined. “Marry me this week. We'll go to the courthouse, do something simple, just you and me. We can be like we were.”

Silence filled the room after he said the words. Scott and Molly were both still for a moment, their eyes locked on each other.

When Scott glanced away, a strange sort of sensation shifted inside Molly's body, and she found her voice. A maternal center of balance had righted itself in her soul, turning her attention to the correct point on the compass. “Scott, I don't want to be like we were. Not before or after the baby. We're not good together.”

She looked down at Dylan, at the closed eyes of her daughter, so content against the warmth of her mother's chest, before regarding Scott again.

“And you know that.”

Scott moved closer to Molly. She couldn't shift away from
him, stuck where she was against the overstuffed pillows of the bed. He placed his hands on her arms, rubbing them up and down until her skin started to grow irritated from the friction. Molly wriggled her arms from his grasp.

Scott's eyes were pleading. “I don't want to lose you, Mol. I love you. You know that. You're the mother of my kid.” To hear him beg this hard was unsettling.

“You just said you couldn't see yourself being close to her.” Molly shook her head. “No.”

“You know what I meant, Molly. I could figure out how to deal with her.” He glanced at Dylan's form under the cloth. “I just need you.”

Scott reached for Molly again and tried to pull her into his chest, pressing his lips against the top of her head. Molly cringed and tried to squirm out his grasp, holding the baby steady.

“Marry me.”

“Scott, I—” Molly tried once more to pull away from him and, with a sudden burst of strength, pushed at Scott's chest until his hands fell off of her. She sat up straight, breathing hard.

“NO. This is not happening.
We
are not happening. This is it, we are done, and you may go.” She pointed at the door and stared down Scott with a new fierceness she felt she had been waiting years to let loose. Molly watched as Scott's face changed. The muscles in his jaw tensed, and his eyes grew darker, more narrow. It was like he'd pulled on a mask while she was looking.

“Molly.” His voice had developed an edge to it, sharp and hard. “What else are you going to do? You can't live without me.”

Scott leaned back, and Molly watched him look her over. She
knew now he was just trying to throw her off, make her insecure. She wasn't having it.

“You need me, Molly. We're supposed to be together,” Scott said.

Molly let out a laugh that was low and sarcastic. “I'll be fine, Scott.”

“Oh, yeah, you as a single mom, right?” He sneered at her. “Look how stretched thin you already were at S&G, Molly. You were a neurotic mess. And now you think you can handle it all?”

Molly didn't say anything. Dylan was finished nursing and had fallen asleep at her chest, but Molly didn't try to burp her, or move her, or even cover herself back up with her dress.

Scott stood up, gave one glance at the lump under the blanket that was Dylan, and walked away from the bed. Molly breathed in relief and slid her dress back into place on her shoulder. It was over. Scott stopped when he got to the closed door and, turning, took a step toward Molly before he opened it.

“I feel bad for you, Molly,” Scott said. “You're making a huge mistake.”

Molly looked down at her tiny daughter. Dylan was still sleeping at her chest, warm and small, folded around the contours of Molly's body. She hadn't fussed once the entire time Scott was talking. It was as if she hadn't even known he was there. Her mother had been enough for her, and that was all that mattered.

“No, Scott,” Molly said. “I don't think I am at all.”

Later that night, Molly stepped through the open doorway into her friends' home. Her hair was down now, curling around her shoulders in loose waves, and she'd pushed the sleeves of the cream V-necked sweater she'd changed into up her arms. She wore
minimal jewelry—a watch, a pair of silver hoop earrings, and a necklace bearing a circular design that looked almost Celtic—but there was a hint of eye shadow glistening below her brows, and the shine of the room's lamps played against the gloss on her lips. Her skin was flushed a light rose color, giving her cheeks a pleasant hue. Her black pants made clean lines against her thighs, their fit smooth. Molly had pulled on the skinny jeans tonight, surprised and pleased that she could get them up over her hips. No one had to know that they didn't quite zip up all the way.

Dan was the first to greet Molly, and she walked into the room to hug him, smiling, aware of the murmurs here and there among the guests moving around the room. She saw the furtive glances passed between couples, friends, former coworkers, but then the chatter of the party fell back into its normal patterns, and she looked over her friend's shoulder to catch sight of Jenny, standing in the middle of the crowd, grinning at her.

Jenny walked over to Molly, her own face bright and cheerful. Glasses clinked around them, Florence and the Machine was playing from the stereo speakers, and Molly exhaled a breath she didn't know she'd been holding. She turned around to close the door on the cold night behind her. The last of the afternoon's clouds had cleared out, leaving behind a sky tinged with the thin rays of the setting sun. A few stars twinkled above the buildings among the pink and orange streaks, and as Molly pushed the heavy door shut with one hand, she caught a last whiff of the crisp air that swirled between the buildings and into the warm home like a kite bouncing along a shore breeze. She turned around again, ready to enter the party.

“Hey, hey, here are my girls!” Jenny set her glass, which was filled with something clear with a wedge of lime, on the counter
of the open kitchen bar and wrapped her arms around Molly's shoulders. She drew her in close and hard.

“Wowsa, lady.” Molly's friend leaned back, holding her by the shoulders at arm's length. “You smell awesome! Don't tell me you finally broke down and tried a new perfume.”

Molly laughed, adjusting her weight so she could scoot the car seat she was carrying farther up her arm.

“Yeah, I figured it was about time. I don't want to be that old lady wearing the same stuff she bought at the drugstore with her allowance money when she was thirteen.”

Jenny chuckled, but her attention had already been snagged by the little bundle of blankets in the carrier on Molly's arm.

“Well, if it's not Miss Dylan Sullivan! Hello, my precious girl.” Jenny's voice rose to the unnaturally high level adults often adopted when they addressed babies. Molly started to tease her friend, knowing that Jenny would most certainly mock that voice were it coming from anybody else, but decided against it. She looked at Dan instead, who was watching and shaking his head with mock dismay. Jenny was still cooing at Dylan, so Molly placed the baby carrier on the floor.

“Come here, you. Man, she's beautiful, Molly. I mean, I know most babies are cute, but this one, lady”—Jenny jabbed a finger in Dylan's direction—“
this
one is a gem. Now, let me see my favorite goddaughter!”

“She's your only goddaughter, if I remember correctly.” Molly smiled, unbuckling her daughter's harness. She felt pretty tonight. She knew the dark circles remained under her eyes, and that she looked more tired, more subdued, than she ever had at one of these parties, but she felt all right. She felt good.

Jenny took Dylan from Molly and held her close to her chest, rocking the baby in her arms.

“Yes, but even if I had a hundwed wittle godchildren, you'd still be my favorite, sweet pea! Yes, you would!” Molly's best friend regarded the small infant, warm and secure in her little terry-cloth onesie. Dylan didn't make a sound. She just watched her godmother, her eyes moving over Jenny's face, taking her in.

“Jenny,” Molly said, “thank you so much for having this again. The early party was such a great idea. Are there a lot of kids here?”

“Are you kidding me? Uh, yeah.” Jenny nodded her head toward the back of the condo. “A bunch of them are camped out in our bedroom upstairs, watching
Toy Story 3
.” She looked around. “Actually, I think that's where Dan just went. I'm sure he just wanted the excuse to go watch the movie again.

“You know, though,” Jenny continued, adjusting Dylan, who'd begun to doze in her arms, “a party with kids is the only way we'd be able to see everybody, now that our friends are popping out babies like PEZ dispensers. Otherwise we'd be sitting here all by our lonesomes, and that's not fun.”

Dan skipped down the last few steps of the carpeted staircase and headed over to the pair, smiling broadly, his spiky hair freshly gelled and sticking straight up from the top of his head.

“Okay, it looks like they're just getting to the incinerator scene, so I stocked them up on tissues. I figure we have a solid half hour before we have to think of something else to keep them contained. In the meantime, Molly, we've got food out in the dining room. Can I get you something to drink? Johnnie Walker on the rocks, right?”

“Um, not tonight, Dan. Jenny, what are you drinking? You
always inspire me.” Before her friend could answer her, Molly turned to Dan. “You know what? Surprise me. I'll have what she's having.”

Dan smiled at Molly with an expression she thought was weirdly mischievous. “Okay, then, Molly, since you're playing it fast and loose tonight. One Jenny special, coming right up!”

Molly watched him pat Jenny on the lower back and wink at her. Jenny blushed red like Dan said she used to do in high school when he'd kiss her in the hallway, and they both watched him stroll back to the kitchen.

Jenny turned away to greet the friends who'd just entered the party, and Molly took a moment to look around. There were some groups of people she recognized, both from S&G and outside of it, mingling here and there. A few children played with quiet focus at a coffee table in the corner with some coloring books and cars. There were low flames flickering in the fireplace, strong enough to add ambience to the night, but far from being a danger to the fingertips of any curious toddlers. There were so many candles situated around the bookshelf tops and mantle they almost negated the need for the white lights that wove among them. Once again, Jenny had pulled off a stellar decorating job. The big Christmas tree in the corner and evergreen garlands placed here and there added to the mix to create a New Year's Eve gathering that felt inviting and special, even if this particular party was taking on a familiar, comfortable mood that felt more mellow than party-hardy.

Jenny's loud conversation had caused Dylan to fuss a little, and Molly took her daughter so that Jenny could finish her chat in peace. She smiled to hear the music wafting through the air and rocked the baby a little to the song's persistent beat. Molly
was very aware that she still hadn't greeted a single other person in the room, but it didn't bother her. It was still early. She had just arrived.

“Leave all your love and your longing behind,” she softly sang. “You can't carry it with you if you want to survive . . .”

“Okay, here you are, ladies.” Dan approached with two short glasses in his hands, and Jenny turned to join her husband and Molly. She suddenly didn't look so well. Her face was pale, and she kept swallowing like she was trying to keep down a bad bite of food. She took the glass from Dan and took a deep sip.

“Hey, Jenny, you okay?” Molly's eyebrows were furrowed together with worry, a habit she'd picked up over the last few months.

Jenny glanced at Dan, then took another gulp of her drink, cringing. “I'll be fine, Mol. Just a little stomach trouble. Once I get some food in me, I'll be okay.”

She motioned toward Molly. “Come on, try Dan's concoction. I'm anxious to hear what you think.”

Dan grinned as he handed Molly the glass. He kept looking at her, waiting for her to try the drink. Molly watched Jenny take another sip of the iced liquid. She hadn't seen her friend drink this much since before she and Dan had started trying again for a baby.