Authors: Melissa Brayden
Jordan held up a hand and pointed at her bowl. “Can’t talk to you right now. Busy.” She went back to the ice cream because really she just wanted to experience it fully. It was heavier than store-bought and the vanilla tasted more full-bodied. The large chunks of Oreo seemed luxurious in comparison to the tiny pieces most brand names mixed in. Quite simply, it was heaven on a spoon. Five bites later, she turned to Molly.
“Sorry. We were bonding.”
“You and the ice cream?”
“Right. Ice cream bonding. It’s a thing.”
Molly scooted closer to Jordan, enjoying this. “So you like this ice cream?”
“I would lay down my life for this ice cream.”
“Wow. That’s an endorsement. If I ever decide to mass produce, I’ll have to put that quote on the carton.”
“With my picture please.”
“As long as you work for free. Funds are tight.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Well, I accept other forms of payment.”
“Yeah? Lucky me.”
Jordan looked at Molly, and there was that prickle of awareness that started low and crept up her spine whenever she was in close proximity to her. Her eyes dropped to Molly’s mouth just in time for Molly to take her bowl into the kitchen.
“No way,” she said as she passed. “I know that look, and there can be no getting naked tonight.”
Jordan stared after her. “What do you mean? You’ve already decided this? Not even a tiny getting naked chance? I don’t think we should take the
chance
off the table.”
“Uh-uh. This is a
first date
. What kind of girl do you think I am?”
“The kind who enjoys a
really good
first date?” Jordan’s laughter faded and she covered her mouth when she realized Molly wasn’t joining in. “Oh. You’re serious?”
“As a heart attack, movie person.”
And Jordan got that she truly was. “Okay. So we’ll just hang out. And not think about getting naked at all.”
Molly glared at her as she took her empty bowl back to the kitchen. “Stop saying
naked
. That adds a whole new level of difficulty.”
“You said naked first. I don’t want to point fingers, but—”
“Neither of us is allowed to say it anymore,” Molly practically yelled.
“Got it. Geez. No saying the forbidden word.”
Molly took her spot back on the couch across from Jordan and stared at her as if struggling. She lifted one shoulder weakly. “But you are pretty far away. Maybe there’s no rule against, you know, proximity.”
“Well, you seem to be way more into rules, so I trust your judgment. I vote you come here.” Jordan swung her legs onto the couch between them and lifted an arm for Molly, who slid beneath it perfectly. With Molly-of-the-amazing-sundress up against her fully, Jordan felt every erogenous zone she had come to life and some she didn’t realize existed.
But she could do this. She was an adult.
“So tell me about your last relationship?”
An interesting turn in conversation. “You want to hear about me and other women?”
“It’s not so much that I want to. But I think it’s important I fill in the gaps. Plus, it will keep me from thinking about…other things.”
“Forbidden words?” Molly tickled her ribs in punishment, forcing her to laugh and squirm. “Sorry. Right. Other relationships.” Jordan sighed and settled back in. “Not a lot to tell. Last real anything was with a woman who lived in my building. We went out a couple of times, and it became a little more about the hook-up. We didn’t have a lot in common, though I think she wanted to pretend we did. Made her feel less guilty about the whole thing.”
“That’s rough when there’s no real common ground. Is that the main thing you would change?”
“I guess. She also didn’t get my sense of humor. Could never pick up on when I was joking and when I wasn’t. It was a problem for me. What about you? What would you change?”
Jordan felt Molly tense in her arms, clearly uncomfortable at how the tables had been turned. “Oh, about me and Cassie?”
“Yeah.” Jordan knew she was treading on dangerous ground, but she also knew it was somewhere she had to go. Before answering, Molly pushed herself into a seated position, breaking all contact, her gaze on the wall. “Um. That’s a hard one. Maybe her deep-rooted obsession with the cap on the toothpaste?”
“Wow. That’s pretty generous of you. There’s really
nothing
?”
“You know, I guess maybe there isn’t. I’m going to get some water.”
Jordan wanted to drop it there, badly she did. But she was up and following Molly before she could help herself, her frustration growing by the moment. Through it all, she understood Molly’s thought process. She understood why Molly needed to remember Cassie in the most favorable light possible.
Yet it simply wasn’t fair. It was stacking the deck against her.
“Why do you act like everything was perfect with Cassie? That she was?”
“Of course she wasn’t perfect. No one is. But what we had, it was more than what most people have. It was—”
“Incomparable apparently.” Okay, that sounded overly sarcastic.
Molly went still, the glass in her hand suspended as she scrutinized Jordan. “Whoa. What’s with the attitude?”
“Because you set up this wonderful ideal of a relationship which is, A. bullshit, and, B. impossible to compete with.” Okay, now they were off the tracks entirely and Jordan didn’t seem capable of reining herself in.
Molly stared at her hard, defensive. Angry. “Who the hell are you to judge? And why is it that you feel you have to compete?”
Jordan was too far in to stop. “Just look over your shoulder, Molly. There are three pictures of you guys looking young and in love on the refrigerator.”
“You want me to take the photos down?” It wasn’t the question itself that got to Jordan, but the way Molly said it, as if it was an illogical idea. It was infuriating.
“I don’t think you could handle it if I did.”
“Well, it’s not your call anyway.”
“I guess my question is will it ever be yours? Because I’m starting to wonder, Mol.”
Molly shook her head in mystification, taken aback. She looked incredibly uncomfortable. “I don’t think you understand what it is that you’re talking about at all and maybe we should just—”
“If I had asked you if you were free after work on Wednesday, what would you have said?”
“That I’m not. You know that Wednesday is—”
“Set aside for Cassie. As is a large part of your life, and probably part of your heart, and that’s not a pattern I see ending anytime soon. That’s the only point I’m trying to make here. She’ll always be a part of our past, Molly. She was important to both of us. We both loved her. And we both miss her. But does she have to be such a big part of our present?”
Molly’s eyes flashed. “The photos, the Wednesdays, they’re important to me. After everything, they’re all I have.”
“All you have. Ah, well, that certainly puts things in perspective. Thank you.”
“That’s not fair. You know that’s not what I meant.”
“Do I?”
“We’re talking about a relationship that took up half of my life. And this”—she gestured between them apathetically—“whatever the hell this is, should have at least earned me your patience in trying to sort it all out.”
The words Molly had just used to describe their relationship were telling, and she felt the effects of the blow all over. “Whatever the hell this is. Nicely put.”
Molly glared. “You know what? I don’t want to do this with you. You should go.”
It was a runaway train at this point, and Jordan couldn’t stop it. The fight had taken over and it felt like they were no longer in charge of it. She was angry. More than angry, because this is exactly what she knew would happen. “That would be your solution. Take the easy way out and avoid dealing with any kind of conflict. It’s what you do best, after all.”
“Says the girl who fled town for four years,” Molly bit out. “Take a harsh look in the mirror, Jordan. I don’t think you have a lot of ground when it comes to standing tall and dealing, do you?”
“Low blow.”
The look on Molly’s face was glacial at best. “Leave, Jordan. I don’t want you here. I don’t know how I can make that more clear to you.” Her voice was terrifyingly final. Jordan felt the blast of those words and something else too. Hurt. And it was far more devastating. She turned and headed for the door.
As she drove home, her mind replayed the argument over and over again. And while she was still worked up, she was also leveled by the way Molly had so easily dismissed their relationship. Who they’d become to each other. And now, it felt like it had all crumbled around her.
God, she hated that feeling.
But it was hard to stay pissed off when your heart was hurting the way Jordan’s was. What had started out as one of the best nights ever had spiraled into something she would give anything to undo.
She shouldn’t have pushed. Molly was right.
As she drove, it occurred to her that it was time to face some hard facts. If she and Molly couldn’t so much as have a conversation to work through some of the obstacles between them, well then, maybe it was better if they were done.
She sighed.
She could lie to herself quite well when she wanted to. It was one of her best talents.
*
It turned out the clinic’s new receptionist was the real deal. Her name was Alyssa, and Jordan had her pegged at about twenty-three or twenty-four years old. But the girl was definitely competent. The waiting room was as busy as Jordan had ever seen it, but Alyssa had everyone informed, happy, and moving along at a steady pace. This was good news for Jordan, as now she could devote more time to getting the details of the production company in order and start to make arrangements to head home.
Given everything that had happened recently, it was definitely time.
Behind her, Jordan heard Alyssa addressing a patient. “I apologize, sir, we’ll do our best to get you back soon, but without an appointment, it could take a little time.”
“Sweetheart, do me a favor and tell Mikey that Luke is here and that my fuckin’ hand hurts.”
Hearing the language, Jordan spun around in her chair from where she’d been categorizing charts. She recognized Luke Treyhorn. He’d been a friend of her brother’s in high school. From the rumor mill and Facebook, she’d heard he’d picked up an alcohol problem that cost him his marriage and quite a few friends. She watched as he stalked back to his chair, muttering to himself under his breath.
“Everything okay?” she asked Alyssa quietly.
“I’m pretty sure he’s drunk,” she whispered. “I’m trying to work him in, but your brother is booked solid.”
Her mother was out of the office on a speaking engagement in Springfield. That didn’t leave them a ton of options. “What about my father?”
“Overbooked. Even more so.”
Jordan nodded and shot a glance at Luke. He was mouthing something she couldn’t make out and rhythmically hitting the back of his head against the wall where it made a quiet little thud each time. Fantastic. And not at all intimidating. “Let me talk to my brother.”
Jordan waited outside of exam three for Mikey to finish up with his sprained ankle. When he emerged, he bopped her on the head with his clipboard in typical Mikey fashion. “What’s up, doc?”
She frowned at him. “Should be my line, no?”
“Semantics. Everything okay?”
“Um, bit of a situation, actually. Luke Treyhorn is drunk in reception. I think he banged up his hand somehow. He’s demanding to see you.”
Mikey shook his head in annoyance. “So what else is new? He’s in here once a week, angling for pain meds and I’m not going to do it this time.”
“Can you at least talk to him? The waiting room is full and he’s pissed, Mike. We need to get him out of here.”
He sighed. “Fine. Send him to exam one. I’ll be right in.”
“Got it. Thank you. You’re a rock star.
“That’s
Dr.
Rock Star.”
“Yeah, it is.”
Fifteen minutes later, Jordan checked her watch. Only three more charts to get through and she was out. Alyssa seemed to have everything under control and it was a weight off her shoulders. She had the afternoon.
Part of her wanted to casually swing by the bakeshop to see Molly. Lay eyes on her, make everything feel okay again, because it was eating away at her the way they’d left it. But another part of her, the self-preserving part, thought it was smarter to hit the gym, do a little kickboxing, and work off some of the stress externally. On her way there, she’d call her neighbor, Martin, and check on her cat. Let him know she’d be home by the end of the week.
She was on the very last chart when the shouting erupted from down the hall followed by a loud metal crash. She exchanged a look with Alyssa and they took off down the hall.
When she threw open the door to exam one, Luke had Mikey up against the wall, his forearm across her brother’s neck. “You think you’re better than me, you piece of shit? You think you can lord over all the rest of us because you have a fucking pad in your hand? Huh?” Luke’s voice was scratchy and out of control.
Her eyes shot to Mikey, who was red and gasping for air and Jordan’s stomach dropped at the sight. She reacted instinctively and charged Luke, tugging with everything she had on his forearm, but it was like pulling on a fixed slab of asphalt. Unmoving. She heard Alyssa quietly talking into the phone. “We need the police at 282 Comburg Castle Way. The clinic, that’s right. We have an assault in progress.”
Luke pulled Mikey forward and then slammed him into the wall again hard. A nearby painting fell to the ground and glass shattered near their feet. Jordan changed her strategy and grabbed Luke by the back of the hair, effectively pulling his neck back. His eyes locked on hers and the fury there sent a chill through her. She saw his elbow as it flew through the air and then darkness.
Nothing.
Everything was quiet.
Molly hung up the phone and covered her mouth and the smile that tugged. Her strategy session with Grant had gone better than expected. He’d received the signed paperwork cementing their partnership, and had taken a successful meeting with a very interested distributor.