Mollywood (8 page)

Sadly, I did neither, since the pre heat alarm on the oven dinged and Molly pushed me away. I was tempted to press things, maybe throw her down on the couch and take her. She loved that kind of aggressive shit and she had me pretty worked up. I regretted not doing it an hour later as I replayed the groping session. I tried to shake of the intense memory as I balanced on a ladder while staining a 6 foot tall hutch. Falling because my balance was thrown off by my rock hard erection would have been disastrous.

Even though I had the music turned up fairly loud, I heard Francis and Mac come into the shop through the front door. They were already bickering back and forth.

“Keep on telling yourself that, Mac. Statistics don’t lie.” Francis scoffed and I instantly knew they were arguing about football. Since I’d told them they could no longer discuss politics in my presence, it was their new go-to.

“Joe! Talk sense into this man, would you? Fran seems to be under the impression that the Cowboys are going to have a shit team again this year.” Mac’s eye roll brought an instant smile to my face. Molly’s brother looked a lot like her. He had the same dark hair she did, but he had far more of it on his face than on top of his head. That was only because he wore his hair high and tight. It was his twin, Mason, who suffered from male pattern baldness. He’d been thinning in the back since he and Mac’s twenty first birthday. Mason had a chip on his shoulder about it, so Mac and I pointed it out whenever we could, of course. Mason wasn’t running off to get hair plugs or anything. He just wore a cowboy hat ‘round the clock in hopes that no one would notice. Sometimes, I thought Mac and Molly looked more alike than Mason and Mac did. But the twins sure as hell
acted
alike. I’d gotten into more trouble with those two in that first year that we met than I had in previous sixteen years combined.

“That’s not what I said.” Francis sat down his keys and his leather planner on the front counter and made his way back to join us. He completely outclassed Mac and me in his pressed slacks and his starched collared shirt. “I simply said the Saints were going to totally smoke Dallas.”

“Which is basically the same thing.” Mac snorted, earning an ‘oooo’ from me like Mac had landed a scathing burn. Francis laughed good-naturedly.

“You Texans.” He chuckled with a pleasant grin. He gestured with his thin arm dramatically, and his gold incisor sparkled in the morning sun. “Mass delusions, I tell ya.”

Mac wandered over to inspect my progress on the custom hutch while Francis went back up to the front counter and logged onto his email. He picked up the phone receiver, presumably to check voicemail. Mac and I had moved onto our next project, a bamboo pie safe with tins salvaged from a Victorian saloon, before Francis had completed his daily ritual. He was frowning and shaking his head as he made his way back to the work area once more.

“Well, unless the two of you plan to work sixteen hour days six days a week, I think we need to hire another carpenter.” He informed us, and proceeded to give a verbal report of all the requests for custom restorations and builds that had come in over the weekend. We were already estimating that we were booked out a month as it was.

“Or we could just raise our rates.” Mac rubbed his hands together with greedy villainous laughter and I grinned. It felt great to be wanted, but we needed to keep up with demand.

We were kicking around a few names of guys we knew who’d be both good enough and ballsy enough to take the job, when I heard the creak of the backstairs. Molly came into view. Her hair was in little pig tails dangling over each shoulder and she wore loose, light clothing. Even without a stitch of makeup on, she was luminous. I noticed she was carrying two thermoses and hurried in her direction.

“Hey, there sweetheart!” Francis called, beating me to her side as I rushed to her assistance. “Stopping in to add a little beauty to our otherwise dreary day?”

Francis had been a Molly fan since the first day she fed him. She was rather partial to him, too. He’d been homeless when we’d met, squatting in the courtyard of a dilapidated hotel that the crew I was working with had been restoring. Molly’s food truck showed up one day, and Francis instantly became her number one fan. Being the softie that she is, Molly fed him not only lunch, but bundled up leftovers for him before she closed up shop each night. He’d come a long way in rebuilding a life for himself. I’d given him the apartment across from mine when we had to dismantle his makeshift home near the end of the hotel restoration. My income apartment had been empty since I bought the building and it was too damn cold for him to be outside. Since he’d been a salesman before he started sleeping in abandoned buildings, I offered him a job. The rest, as they say, is history.

Molly graced Francis with a grateful smile as he took both of the thermoses from her.

“Hey, yourself, you dirty flirt. How’s Kelly liking the new school?” She asked.

“So far so good.” He smiled. Francis’s daughter, Kelly had relocated from Detroit just in time for the school year to begin. After months of emails and phone calls, she’d come down to visit with her dad for a couple of weeks over summer break, and had evidently fallen in love with Austin. She taught first grade, and had easily landed a job at a nearby elementary school.

I’d been taken aback when Francis had introduced me to her. Kelly was a petite, doe eyed brunette who came off as painfully shy. I was surprised by her quiet demeanor, since Francis had once told me that Molly reminded him of her. Molly was about as gregarious as they came, and could make friends in a morgue.

“Y’all have coffee cups down here, don’t ya?” Molly retreated toward the staircase.

“Yep.” I moved to the sink to wash my hands.

“Good, ‘cause I need to bring down your breakfast and I can’t carry both.” She vanished out of sight. She returned a minute later with two plates of mouthwatering muffins and rolls.

“What smells so good?” Mac came out from the other workroom as the scent of Molly’s fresh treats wafted throughout the shop.

“Cornbread and bacon muffins and a little something I like to call a ‘Sticky Pig’.” She replied, handing Mac the plate of muffins.

“The muffins are amazing.” I chimed in, remembering them all too well from our first ‘morning after’. “I want to try this ‘Sticky Pig’.”

Molly held out the other plate to me and I took one of the giant rolls, trying to keep all of the gourmet bacon bits from toppling off onto my clothes. The aroma already had me salivating.

“It’s a lot like a cinnamon roll, but with real maple syrup folded into the frosting and candied bacon sprinkled on top.” She explained as I took a huge bite. As with everything she made, the salty and sweet concoction was inexplicably delicious. Francis took one and turned to Molly.

“What’s the occasion? You never bring us breakfast.” He tasted the roll as if savoring a fine wine.

“Oh…Joe didn’t tell you our news?” Molly’s blue eyes flicked to me mischievously and I knew all hell was about to break loose. “We’re pregnant. With twins.

Mac spit coffee across the room in a spray fighting not to choke.

“Damn it! Don’t say shit like that when I’m drinking.” There was a smile on his face and I could tell he thought she was yanking his chain. Francis grinned, but looked thoughtfully between the two of us. His gaze swept over Molly’s loose purple blouse, then my face, and he broke into a huge smile.

“Congratulations!” Francis stepped up and Molly grinned as he enfolded her in a friendly hug. Turning to me, Francis shook my hand. Mac looked between Francis and Molly for a moment before the smile fell from his face. He turned to me with a confused expression that was almost comical.

“Wait. She’s serious? You knocked her up? What the hell, man! Were you or were you not told to buy rubber bands?” I could tell he was teetering precariously between outrage and amusement and decided to give him a nudge in the right direction.

“We…had a wardrobe malfunction,” I trailed off, feeling the blood rush to my face. Mac stared at me for a few seconds and then doubled over with laughter. Tears leaked from his eyes and he held onto the worktable to keep from falling over. I started laughing at the sight of his ridiculous display, and Molly and Francis just exchanged looks of disbelief. Mac struggled to pull in gasps of breath. Molly gave him an annoyed side glance and walked past him to peck me on the cheek.

“Trust me, Mac. Joe has no trouble filling up a condom. In fact, he buys the large ones. And if you ever read the literature you’d know that they’re only about 97% effective.” Mac’s eyes practically bugged out of his head and he looked like he was going to have a fit.

“Ugh! Too much information. I do
not
want to know anything about anything you two do or do not do in the bedroom. Remember I just ate.” He gave Molly an incensed look, grabbed a Sticky Pig, and hopped up on top of the workbench. Looking back and forth between the two of us he shook his head.

“So does mom know yet?” An evil grin split his face. “Or granny?”

“No,” Molly said, smacking him on the arm. “And don’t get any wise ideas. We’ll tell people in our own time. Got it?” Mac gave a gaping, and nauseatingly sweet roll filled grin and nodded.

“Your funeral. So does this mean you two are getting hitched?” The look Molly gave him would have killed a lesser man. Turning to me in confusion he glared. “What? My sister’s not good enough for you?”

“I’ve already asked her and she turned me down flat, Mac.” I replied, refusing to look in her direction. I watched as Francis’s eyes shifted to Molly. I’m pretty sure he saw something on her face that gave him some insight, because he tried to catch Mac’s eye. Mac ignored him and wheeled on Molly.

“Are you serious? All of a sudden you don’t want to marry him? Shack up with him? Yes. Have babies with him? Sure. But get married? Hell no! That’s madness! You practically stalked him your Freshman and Sophomore years. I swear, you need to have your head examined.”

“Hey, now.” I narrowed my eyes at Mac, my voice sounded cautionary, and dangerous.

Molly’s eyes blazed like a blue flame and she stepped toward Mac, but Francis moved between them. The rage on the old man’s face snapped Mac’s mouth shut like a trap.

“Think before you speak, Mac! Show your sister the respect she deserves. Molly’s quite capable of making her own decisions. Family is supposed to support you, not tear you down.” Something about the way he said it made me think he wasn’t just talking about the current issue with Molly. Mac looked between Francis and Molly and raised his hands in front of him in surrender.

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. Open mouth and insert foot. You two are grown-ups, I’m sure you will figure it out. Kids have a way of making things more complicated…and somehow a lot simpler all at the same time.”

He hopped off of the table, grabbed a cup of coffee and another Sticky Pig and retreated to the far side of the workroom. Francis put a hand on Molly’s shoulder and then returned to the front counter. She folded her arms and looked at her feet. I pulled her to me and held her. She was stiff for a moment and then she melted against me. I felt her give a little shudder as if she were fighting against tears.

“Mac is an ass. Don’t let him get to you.” She shook her head and sniffed.

“He’s the shallow end of the pool. I’m in for a world of shit when granny gets ahold of this. She will probably knit me a scarlet letter sweater for my next birthday.” I grinned but the miserable way she looked at me took the joke out of her statement.

“I told you already, we could get married.” She put her hand up to stop me.

“I really can’t have this conversation right now. Okay?” I felt a stab of pain at the way she just dismissed me.

“All right.” I forced a light tone, keeping all the hurt out of my voice. She gave me a quick kiss without meeting my eyes and retreated back upstairs. Mac and Francis barely spoke for the rest of the day and I found myself grateful for the quiet. It gave me time to think.

Molly had been sending me mixed signals since we first got together. The self-depreciating remarks, the comments about not being in my league. It was all bullshit and I’d chalked it up to false modestly. Lately, I was starting to see that she actually believed that crap. Somehow this unbelievable woman had gotten the idea in her head that she was anything less than amazing. I felt lucky to have her, but if I couldn’t figure out a way to make her believe this, I could lose her.

Pulling out my phone, I saw a missed call from Dr. Greene’s office. I called back and his secretary told me he had an afternoon cancellation. I told her I would take it.

I finished what I was working on and pulled Mac into the back office for a quick talk. After I closed the door, I turned to him and saw he looked pale.

He started yammering just like Molly does when she thinks she’s in trouble. “I’m sorry if I upset Molly, Joe. She just gets these ideas in her head of perfection and life isn’t like that, ya know? Like back when we were kids. Every single year she asked Santa for a white Christmas and a sled. Mom and dad were finally like ‘it’s figgin’ Texas, kid. Deal with it.’”

I shook my head, but I knew exactly what he meant. Molly could get fixated on details, which is why she was such an incredible chef. “Take it up with her, not me. We need to make an action plan for this list of jobs.”

I went over what we needed to get done by the end of the week then headed to the makeshift showroom to touch base with Francis. I told him to triple our rates except with repeat customers. Short term it would help control our workload. And if they didn’t want to pay our rates they could go to someone else. That got a smile out of him and he set about adjusting the spreadsheet tables on his laptop to the significantly higher rate.

By the time I got back upstairs to the apartment, Molly was sleeping on the couch in front of the television. She looked so damn angelic that I gave her a kiss on the forehead and covered her with a blanket.

My drive across town to Dr. Greene’s office was hectic. Every idiot with a car was on the road and by the time I arrived I was in a foul mood. The receptionist waved me through. I glanced at my watch and saw I was ten minutes late. Dr. Greene looked up from behind his desk and something in my face caused him to stand. Crossing to me, he shook my hand and gestured me to a chair.