Molly - Sarah Monzon Page 0,37

was a loud sea lion.” Because I knew it would make her laugh, I threw my head back and gave three sharp, obnoxious, sea lion-like barks. A man nearby on his cell phone glared at our racket, but a young family a few feet away snickered.

“What are those two seals doing?” Chloe pointed out to the pool of water made calm by the breaker. “Is that one giving the other a piggyback ride?”

No. It couldn’t be.

I followed where she pointed, my mind starting to spin. Harbor seals were safe and, more importantly, private. I could bring my preschooler to see the cute little babies because all the things needed to make the cute little babies happened away from her innocent young eyes.

But there in the water, two seals were swimming very close together. They dove down deeper into the dark waters, their outline fading from visibility.

What had Chloe said? Piggyback ride?

“Yes!” I shouted too loudly at the same time Molly answered, “No.”

I widened my eyes at her and gave a small shake of my head. My daughter did not need “the talk” at four. And wasn’t the illustration supposed to be with birds and bees and not harbor seals?

“Which is it?” Chloe asked. “Yes or no?”

Molly pressed her lips together and turned slightly away.

I crouched to be eye-level with Chloe. A gust of wind picked up strands of her dark hair and whipped them around her face. Reaching out, I tucked them behind her ear. Couldn’t she stay like this forever? Young and innocent. Sweet and thinking boys were loud and annoying. I’d freeze time if I could.

“Yes. They were just playing, sweetie.”

“Oh.” She shrugged. “I thought maybe they were mating.”

My throat squeezed shut, and I coughed. “What—?” Hack, hack, hack. “Where did you hear that?”

Another shrug. “A nature show.”

Note to self—only Octonauts and Wild Kratts to be played from now on. No more animal documentaries. Who would have thought I’d need to censor Blue Planet?

“No,” I said the same time Molly answered, “Yes.”

My eyes bugged out of my head at her. What was she thinking?

“So they weren’t getting married?” Chloe tilted her head.

She thought mating was the same as marriage? I could work with that. But I should have predicted what came next.

“Yes,” I said in unison to Molly’s “No.”

Chloe looked between us. “You guys are weird. Can we go to the playground now?”

“Yes!” Molly wasn’t going to jump in with a contradictory answer this time. I mean, I knew she had that whole honesty policy thing, but was she really going to explain pinniped copulation to my four-year-old?

We walked in relative silence to the playground, letting the seagulls and the sound of the ocean fill the silence between us. When the brown-and-blue play structure came into view, Chloe let go of my hand and raced toward it. A three-foot chasm spread between Molly and me. One which neither of us inched to close.

She kept her hands behind her back as we toed the concrete perimeter around the playground. I peeked at her profile. Slightly upturned nose at the end, soft chin, cheek bones somewhere in the middle of well-defined and fragile. I got that she didn’t want to lie. Honesty was a good trait to have. But rigid candor? No matter the consequences?

“Why?” Brain and mouth cooperated to say the question echoing around inside my head.

She turned toward me. “Why what?”

“Why do you always, no matter what, tell the truth? Were you really going to explain to Chloe what mating is?” I willed her to say no. That she would have left something like reproduction up to me, the father, to decide when, where, and how to have that sort of conversation. But then again, she had explained the usage of a tampon to a kid at Chloe’s school. I’m wasn’t so sure I supported that decision any longer now that the uncomfortable conversation had come knocking at my door.

A resigned sigh made her shoulders collapse, and she rubbed above her eyebrow. “Is this where you fire me?”

My chest spasmed. “What?” I caught sight of Chloe’s hot pink shirt at the top of the slide, then turned to give Molly my full attention. “No.” More forcefully. “No, I am not going to fire you. I can’t believe you’d even think that.” A hollowness emptied in the pit of my stomach. Like on those rides at amusement parks where the floor got yanked from under your feet. Why did people like those?

Nausea rolled at the idea of Molly no