Molly - Sarah Monzon Page 0,45

you guys kissing? Does that mean you’re married?” Chloe’s voice was a bucket of ice water tossed over my head.

Molly jumped away from me, her palms covering brightening cheeks. “We weren’t kissing.” Her words came out a whole octave higher than normal. “I was just…uh…I was just teaching your dad how different cultures greet each other. So that”—she coughed—“that would be…uh…a Brazilian greeting, whereas if you were in Thailand, you’d place your hands together and bow.” She demonstrated with her palms pressed tight and bowing. She rose with a strangled laugh. “But that’s probably enough for today. I’ll see you in a couple of days. Bye.”

Someone with their pants on fire wouldn’t have run out of the door faster.

I blinked, trying to wrap my mind around the last few minutes. Had Molly just lied to my daughter? Molly, who would rather get fired than spare a child the truth had just full-out, blatantly fibbed to Chloe. Because I certainly didn’t give a fig about how people greeted each other in Brazil or France or Spain or anywhere else where hello was said with a smooch to the cheek. That silky soft lip-on-lip touch had been a good old American sign of affection.

My hand reached for the counter to steady myself. Mind reeling, my legs felt shaky beneath me. The turbulent waters were coming like class four white water, and Molly had just run out the door with one of my paddles.

What did it mean, her lying? And why did I want to chase after her, spin her back around to face me again, and see if that brief moment when our lips touched had really stopped time and intensified light by millions of lumens?

But I couldn’t do that. Shouldn’t have even let the first kiss happen. Must have had an acute case of one-time demyelination, my immune system attacking the myelin covering of the nerves in my brain, making it impossible for my neurons to send the signal to my legs to step back. Classic case. The only reason why I would have stood still as a statue and even swayed forward. Momentary incognizance of mental faculties.

Two raps reverberated off the front door. I scrubbed a palm over my face. What now? I’d rather take two acetaminophen and call my doctor in the morning, but instead I walked to the front entrance and opened the door. “What are you doing here?”

Drew pushed past me, plastic grocery bags dangling from both hands. “Good to see you too.”

“Drew’s here!” Chloe ran and hugged his legs.

“Hey, princess, rescue any knights lately?” Drew set his bags on the kitchen island.

Chloe giggled. “You’re silly.”

He made a funny face and Chloe giggled some more.

I closed the door. “It’s always good to see you, my friend. I just wasn’t expecting you.”

“Yeah, well.” He lifted one kitchen storage container after another. “My mother sent me. ‘We can’t let that poor man starve.’” He said the last bit in a high, nasally voice that sounded nothing like Mrs. Klein, then opened the refrigerator and stopped in his tracks. “I’ve never seen your refrigerator so full before.”

Made it sound like I wasn’t a good provider. I crossed my arms. “That’s not true.”

“Fine. I’ll rephrase. I’ve never seen your refrigerator full of something other than deli meat, cheese slices, and milk.” He scooted containers over to make room for the ones he’d brought, then pulled out one with a red lid. Popping the top, he sniffed the contents. “Curry.” He put the container back and pulled out a different one. After a peek inside, he returned the food and shut the door. “Curry and beef stew and at least another container of what I’m assuming is a home-cooked meal. When did you find the time to finally start following a food pyramid that didn’t utilize a microwave and cause your mother faint?”

I picked up my now-lukewarm cup of coffee and muttered into the rim.

“Excuse me, what was that?”

“I said I didn’t. Molly cooked those.”

“Molly? The same Molly I met at the hospital a few weeks ago?”

Chloe twirled, her cat-print dress flaring out like a bell. “Miss Molly is the best.”

“Aren’t you watching a movie, sweetie?” Who knew where Drew would lead the conversation now that he’d sniffed female pheromones in the air.

“Miss Molly said Benji is her favorite.” Chloe skipped back to the living room.

Drew hiked a brow at me. “Benji’s her favorite, hm?”

I rolled my eyes. “The movie, Drew.”

“Sure, sure.”

“It’s not like that.”

“And why is that exactly?”

My palms ground into