Molls.Nobody had called me that since … Well, since we were friends. The warmnostalgia hugged a little tighter.
“Thirtytreatin’ you okay?”
Hechuckled sardonically. “Not sure I’d call itokay. I mean, I’mthirty,forcryin’ out loud.” I laughed as he grabbed Mama’sTupperware from off the counter and glanced at me. “I’ll wash this fory’all.”
“Oh,you don’t have to,” I insisted.
“Nah,it’s fine.” He turned on the faucet and began to scrub. “Anyway, thirty’skindascary. To be honest, I’m notlovin’it, but it’s only my second day. There’s room for improvement.”
Ilaughed while I watched the flexing of his arms and the movements of his wristsand fingers washing the container. The sight of a shirtless man doing dishesshouldn’t have been so appealing to watch, but there I was, thoroughlytransfixed and unable to look away. It was damn near pornographic.
“Molly!”
Ijolted and turned to face Connie, Mama’s best friend since forever. “Oh! Hey!”
“Oh,my word,” she drawled, flitting her eyes between her son and me. “It’s been waytoo long since I’ve seen the two of you in the same room together. Lord, howlong has it been?”
Chadshut the faucet off. “Long time,” he agreed, nodding slowly as he grabbed for adishrag.
“Toolong, if you ask me,” Connie tackedon. “You two were always the best of friends, and Sarah and I could neverfigure out what happened toy’all.”
Heturned to hand me the clean Tupperware, and I wondered for a moment if his busylife had ever allowed him to remember high school and the drastic differencesbetween our experiences. I wondered if he looked back on those days with thetype of sour disdain that I did, or if his rose-colored goggles remained firmlyaffixed.
Butthen his eyes met mine and I saw there a recollection—a guilt, even—as hepassed Mama’s cookie container to my waiting hands. I knew then that he didstill remember, and although it did nothing to erase all of that missing timebetween us, it felt good knowing that at least heknew.
“Idunno,” he lied to his mother. “Life, I guess.”
“Well,”Connie said, reaching out to grip my arm and his, “there’s no reasony’allcan’t pick up where you left off, right?”
Iexpected reluctance. I expected hesitation. I did not expect Chad’s eyes tolight up with excitement as he nodded. “Hell yeah.”
“Andactually, baby, did you know Molly sings at the Locust Lounge now?” Conniecontinued slyly.
Itried to intervene and tell her it was okay and that she didn’t need to mentionit, as I saw Chad’s eyes narrow. I watched him try to recall if he’d heard thatanywhere before, but he shook his head. “Nah, I don’t think I knew that.”
“Well,she does,” Connie pressed, smiling broadly at me. Then, she turned to look upat him. “For a while now, actually. She plays there Monday, Wednesday, andFriday.”
Myflush singed my cheeks and I began to wonder why the air conditioning wasn’ton. Or maybe it was that someone had turned on the heat.
“Today’sMonday,” Chad commented, holding my gaze.
“Itis,” I replied meekly.
Hislips curled into a smile. “So, I guess I’ll beseein’you tonight, then.”
“Okay.”I exhaled, unaware that I’d been holding my breath. “Well, uh, Mama needs thisthing for her cookies, so I guess I’ll seey’alllater.”
“Tellher I said to call me tonight,” Connie instructed, giving my arm one finalsqueeze before letting go.
Theywished me a good day and I saw myself out. I walked through the house withrecollected comfort, out onto the porch, and down the steps. I did it all witha confident ease, until I was back on the road, heading toward my mother’shouse. It was then my stomach coiled around the realization that my old friend,now a well-known musician and singer, was going to hearmesing and playmy guitar in a seedy club. I hoped I’d be able to eat lunch with Mama withoutpuking and I hoped I’d put on a killer show.
Butabove all that, I hoped this was the beginning to the second chapter of ourfriendship.
Ihoped forthatmost of all.
4
Be Molly’s Friend Forever
