Her mother nodded solemnly and straightened, raising her hand and letting it drop. “I don’t even know what to say to you two. I should get back to the guests.”
Left alone, Jordan turned to Molly. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” But she’d wrapped her arms around herself almost as if in protection and took a step back. “Do you think you could give me just a minute?”
“Sure. Whatever you need.”
And she left her there, even though it went against every instinct she had.
As Jordan crossed the empty banquet room, her limbs felt heavier as she realized that things were much more precarious than even she had acknowledged. The feelings they’d all just exchanged were so unguarded, so raw. She was still reeling from their effects. It had been a horrible scene back there, and there was nothing she could do to undo it. The worst part had been the haunted look in Molly’s eyes as it all went down. It was an excruciating sight. It tore at her still. And it wasn’t just the look. It was its implication.
“Jordan, wait.”
She turned just in time for Molly to throw her arms around her neck and hold on. She felt the tears against her neck as she wrapped her arms around Molly’s waist and pulled her close. “Why does it have to be this hard?” Molly whispered in a strangled voice.
“It’s going to be okay. You know that, right?” Molly released Jordan.
“I don’t know that it is. I can’t lose them, Jordan. I just can’t. It’s all so much more than I imagined it would be.”
Jordan nodded, because she felt the same way. And would it ever get easier? She was beginning to wonder.
*
It was close to midnight when that marathon of a birthday party finally came to a slow conclusion. As much as Jordan wished the thing would just end, the guests seemed to have other ideas. She’d been tempted to offer the band a thousand dollars to just cut out early and put them all out of their damn misery. Instead, she’d played dutiful daughter, and she and Mikey stayed until the final partygoer eventually trickled out. Throughout it all, she remembered to smile and laugh and play her part with a flourish. She was a Tuscana after all.
It was an act. Inside, she was a mess and amazed that she’d held it together as long as she had.
Molly had stayed as well, but in contrast, spent most of her time busy in the kitchen helping Eden with cleanup. It was a coping mechanism that Jordan recognized easily in Molly.
Escape.
Instead of dealing with problems head-on, it was Molly’s instinct to avoid conflict altogether. She was a pro and she did it better than anyone Jordan had ever encountered.
Her parents had been cordial to her in front of their friends, but there was a veil of tolerance in the way they looked at her that told her they were still wallowing in disappointment at what they’d uncovered. And she felt the effects of that disappointment right in the center of her chest. She’d experienced this kind of rejection from her parents many times in the past, on a smaller scale, but it didn’t soften the blow. Molly, on the other hand, was a different story. She’d never been anything if not loved and adored universally by the Tuscanas. This would be a difficult pill for her to swallow, and for that reason, Jordan was worried.
She caught up with Molly in the parking lot. She carried her heels by their back straps and walked barefoot on the pavement. “You weren’t going to say good-bye.”
Molly turned, just shy of her car. She met Jordan’s eyes and then dropped her gaze to the pavement. “Sorry. I meant to. Just tired. Both mentally and physically.” She wasn’t lying. Everything about her looked exhausted. But there was something else there too, and it tugged unpleasantly at Jordan.
Sadness. Molly looked undeniably sad.
“Do you want me to come by for a little while? We could put on a movie. Forget the world.” It was a Hail Mary attempt and she knew it.
Molly offered a smile. “You’re sweet. But I think I’m ready to call it a night.” Everything important to her seemed to be slipping through her fingers and like some God-awful dream she couldn’t wake up from, there was little she could do to stop it.
“Will you text me and let me know that you got home okay? It’s late.”
She nodded once. “I will do that.”
Jordan leaned in to kiss her good night, but just as their lips met, Molly took a step back, ending the kiss abruptly. She covered by tossing Jordan a reassuring smile.
“’Night, Jordan.”
“Good night.”
But it wasn’t. It was the worst kind of night.
Molly was hurting. She was in distress, and her presence only seemed to make it worse. And she had no clue how to fix it. Except that she was starting to feel like she did.
For everyone.
Everyone except herself, that is.
Chapter Twenty-four
It was raining the next morning as Molly set out for the bakeshop. She decided to walk anyway because she needed to inhale the fresh air, feel the thick, wet drops on her skin. She needed to remind herself that the life she was so excited about just two days prior was still there and waiting for her.
Truth be told, it had shaken her, the way Amalia and Joseph had stumbled upon them the night before. She’d planned on handling the situation with a delicate turn, introducing the concept of her and Jordan a little bit at a time, and now that opportunity was gone. Completely blown.
But something else had shifted also.
She’d seen the situation through their eyes and what she was doing with Jordan was a big deal. Was she exactly ready for that and everything that came with it? She nodded. She was. She knew she was, so why was she now sidestepping what was the best thing that had happened to her in a long time? She amended that. Maybe ever.
She was running again. And she hated herself for it.
Sunday mornings at Flour Child brought in pretty steady traffic. It was one of their better days of the week as far as foot traffic went. They’d sold several dozen trays of buttery croissants, and more muffins than she could remember. They were completely out of the orange raspberry coffee cake, but Louise was at work in the back trying to make up for it. If they could keep this kind of business going in the middle of the week as well, the shop would be in much better shape financially. It was those before-work runs to Starbucks that were the difference. In contrast, the leisurely Sunday morning pace invited family and friends to luxuriate a bit more, and that meant a trip to Flour Child.
She smiled widely as she handed Mrs. Dumphey her change, sliding the pink box across the counter to her. “Enjoy your breakfast.”
“Thanks, Molly. See you next weekend.” And there it was. Another indicator. She blew out a breath. In just a few more days, her financial woes would at least be temporarily quelled and she could focus on revamping the shop. With the check from Grant, she could settle her bills and maybe even have enough left over for an espresso machine, a concept she’d been tossing around in her head for a little while now.
Quaint little bakeshop or not, she needed to keep up with the big boys, and that meant fancy coffee drinks in large cups. It was time to jump into the twenty-first century and win back some of those weekday customers.
“You’re lost in thought.”
She raised her gaze to find Jordan smiling back at her from across the cash register. And there was that crazy mixture of feelings again. Happiness to see her. There was always that. And the undeniable guilt that the happiness brought with it, stronger now, so much sharper after the events of the night before. She didn’t know quite how to reconcile the two.
“Sorry, just thinking through some things. What can I get for you?”
“Uh…” She surveyed the display case, perhaps caught off guard by the business like question. “Just coffee, I guess. I’m not really hungry.”