Sudden Independents - By Ted Hill Page 0,13

patiently for his other dining companions to return before eating. He forked into his eggplant and remembered the flowers. “Hey, Vanessa, did the kids plant a flower bed at our house this afternoon?”

“No,” she said, pausing over the full plate of catfish and pickles that Mark gave her. Everyone in town went crazy when one of the Brittanys rediscovered the pickling process. “Maybe you have a secret admirer.”

Jimmy shook his head with disbelief. Samuel laughed with his mouth open and full of food. Then Jimmy caught Ginger staring at him as he topped off his water. He smiled back, she dropped eye contact and he sloshed water on the table.

Sponging up the mess with his napkin, Jimmy noticed Molly glaring at Ginger. “How are things at the sewing shop, Molly? Are the new recruits working out okay?”

Molly perked up with a big smile and batted her eyelashes at him. “They’re doing wonderful, Jimmy. Thank you so much for the extra help. I desperately needed it. We were getting a bit behind on the winter clothing. My assistant decided to take on some extra work.”

“What extra work?” Jimmy asked.

“Ask her.” Molly stabbed her fork in Vanessa’s direction.

Samuel coughed and whispered, “Disengage,” in Jimmy’s direction.

Mark stopped eating. “What’s wrong, Molly?”

“Oh, you don’t need to worry about it, Mark. It’s really nothing,” Molly said, refolding the napkin in her lap.

“Sounds like you want to make it something,” Vanessa said.

Jimmy chewed on a piece of catfish, careful not to choke on a bone. Molly glowered at Vanessa while Vanessa appeared annoyed, like she’d been playing this game since she started seeing Mark and was really over it. Mark wore his concerned brother expression, after setting down his fork and giving Molly his full attention. Ginger and Luis did the smart thing and gazed at their plates. Jimmy seriously considered finding a less combustible dining party.

“Jimmy’s afraid of dying,” Samuel said.

The bone Jimmy was chewing around snapped.

Vanessa rubbed circles on his back. “We’re all afraid of dying, Sammy, but thank you so much for sharing. I bet Jimmy will want to thank you later personally.”

“Count on it,” Jimmy said under his breath.

Vanessa regarded Molly like sunshine on morning frost. “What’s your problem this time?”

Molly’s smoldering composure ignited. She stabbed her fork through her catfish filet and left it standing there. “I don’t have a problem. It’s obvious you have a problem with me. I can’t believe you went behind my back to have your baby clothes made.”

“Oh, that.” Vanessa directed a sympathetic look toward Ginger, and then faced Molly again. “You weren’t interested when I asked you for help a couple of months ago, so I asked Ginger. But I did ask you first.”

“I thought we decided to wait to see if the baby was a boy or girl. I would have thrown something together if I’d known it was so important.”

“I didn’t want something thrown together. I wanted something special for my baby, your niece or nephew, and for all we know the first child born since the plague started. I wanted my baby brought into this world properly.”

Mark focused on his plate; his jaw clamped shut, as if willing his forgotten catfish to offer a solution. Jimmy felt sorry for him. The last thing he needed was his sister starting trouble over something this trivial. Molly was always worked up over something. She was spoiled before the plague with instant attention to her every whim, and her expectations hadn’t changed since. But spoiled didn’t work anymore in this world.

Molly stood up, her chair screeching across the hardwood floor. “If you wanted things done properly then maybe you should have gotten married first!” she yelled.

The raucous roar of the dining hall stalled out with the clink of metal utensils slipping from fingers and bouncing off plates. All eyes zeroed in on Molly, and then Vanessa.

Mark stood up in the middle of the swirling chaos with his napkin clutched in a knuckled fist. He spoke to Molly in a tight, strained voice. “I don’t want you to sit here with us anymore.”

Molly’s eyes were gorged with sudden tears. Her lips trembled. She laid her hands on the table like she might fall if she lacked the support. “But, it’s only because…”

“Molly, I don’t want to hear another word out of you.”

Molly scanned the unsympathetic faces at the table. Then she looked around the dining hall. “Quit staring at me!” she screamed, and bolted out through the kitchen.

Mark plopped back in his seat, spread his napkin