“Well, that’s what you get for being slutty, Molly,” she muttered to herself as she struggled to replace the futon cover after washing it. She hadn’t heard from Buddy since he left her house the previous afternoon. Granted, it had just been a little over twenty-four hours, but still—not even a text? Nothing? She had started to text him several times to check and see how Lucy’s visit with her mother went but ultimately didn’t send any of them. It was really none of her business.
Their conversation at the doughnut shop swirled through her head. His anger at Boone didn’t surprise her at all. After all, Molly was very angry at Boone and found herself growing angrier as time passed. How dare he meddle with her career? It was bad enough that he’d made things so uncomfortable at her old school that she’d been “encouraged” to seek a transfer, but to claim that he was responsible for getting her this new position? Please. Buddy was right—Melissa would not have hired Molly if she didn’t think she was qualified. Boone might have gotten her in the door, but Molly got the job on her own merit—at least, she hoped so. Nevertheless, she planned on speaking candidly with Melissa, and she hoped the principal would be completely honest with her.
And then there was Buddy’s relationship with Lucy’s mother. Even when he found out Natalie had misrepresented their relationship, he didn’t say anything negative about her, despite being visibly frustrated. He also didn’t reveal any current issues that existed between them. Maybe they truly didn’t have any issues, or at least any large ones.
A little voice in the back of her head nagged her, reminding her that that butthead Boone also seemed to have a genial relationship with his supposed soon-to-be ex-wife. Molly snorted. Yeah, so genial that the woman assumed they were reconciling. Although, Boone could have led her on, made her think they were getting back together so he could have his cake and eat it, too.
Friggin’ Boone.
Molly zipped up the futon cover with such fury that she broke off the tab.
“Dammit,” she fumed. She turned to the dog, who watched her from a corner. “Louise Mandrell Mayhew, please do not roll in any more dead things. I just can’t take it.”
Louise had the decency to roll over and at least look ashamed, though Molly knew she wasn’t and that she wouldn’t hesitate to roll in the next questionable pile of yuck she happened to encounter.
“Okay, girl, your bed is ready.” Molly rose with a grunt. She snapped her fingers, and Lou ambled over to her bed, gave it a good sniff, and then proceeded to roll all over it. “That’s good—get it all smelling like a dog first thing, you big goofball.” She shook her head and did her own ambling into the kitchen to get something to the drink.
Molly had no sooner sat down on the sofa and turned on her go-to “don’t want to think about anything” movie than the doorbell rang. She debated not answering the door, but when the doorbell rang again, she hauled herself off the couch and looked through the peephole. It was her neighbor, Gertrude, with a casserole dish in her hands. Molly groaned. She liked her neighbor—Gertrude was lovely. The woman’s cooking? Not so much. The last casserole she brought over, Lou wouldn’t even eat. But the woman was a spinster, and Molly was just superstitious enough to not want to tempt fate, so she fixed a smile on her face and opened the door.
And found Boone chatting up Gertrude like they were best friends.
“Oh, there you are, Molly. I was hoping I’d catch you at home today,” Gertrude said. “You’ve been a little social butterfly lately, either not home or entertaining . . . friends.” Molly thought she saw the slightest leer from her elderly neighbor. Oh, brother. Gertrude thrust the casserole dish into Molly’s arms. “I’ll leave you to your handsome guest, Molly. Toodle-oo.” And she was off.
“Molly, honey, I think we had a little misunderstanding the night of the Fall Funfest that we need to discuss.” Boone sprawled across the doorway, blocking her in. The mixture of his strong cologne and the scent of whatever godforsaken hot dish that Gertrude concocted made Molly’s eyes water and stomach roil. She just wanted him to go away, for good.
“I have nothing to say to you, Boone. Please leave.” She attempted to duck under his arm to go back into the house, but he hedged her in so her back was pressed into the corner of the front porch.
“Now, you listen to me, Molly. I think I’ve been more than patient with you. I’m divorced now, so what’s the fucking problem? Now that I’m available, you don’t want me? Is that how you play?” Boone loomed over her. He was a man who was used to getting what he wanted, doing as he pleased, and Molly was over it. She was done, and the seven weeks of self-defense classes kicked in. Molly stomped on his foot and reflexively threw the casserole at him. The heavy Pyrex dish hit him and rebounded off his nose, bloodying it, and the mixture of olives, salmon, pimento cheese, and rice splattered down his chest.
Molly pointed at him. “No, Boone Cash, you listen to me. You are not welcome here. You are finished manhandling me and intimidating me. Right now, I’m going back into my house, and you are going to get in your car and drive away and not talk to me ever again. That means at school, too. And if you try to call me, text me, or even look at me, I’m calling the police.” She bent down and snatched the now-empty dish from where it lay on the ground. “So long, asshole.”
She stomped into the house and shut and locked the door behind her. She listened hard for the sound of Boone’s car pulling out of the driveway. After hearing the sound of tires on the gravel and risking a peek out the window to confirm he was gone, she finally relaxed. Actually, she fell apart, sinking to the floor and sobbing in the aftermath of the rush of adrenaline. Lou ran over to her, and Molly threw her arms around the big dog and hugged her tight. It was after Lou licked the remaining casserole from the sides of the dish and then licked Molly’s face that Molly began to laugh. She was going to have to go rinse the porch off if she didn’t want it to stink, but it could wait. Hell, maybe all the neighborhood cats would take care of the mess.
“Oh, man, Lou. This has been a crazy weekend, hasn’t it, girl?” She rubbed the dog’s ears and gave her scratches. The phone rang, and both Molly and Lou groaned. “I know, Lou. If it’s Mama, I’m going to ignore it, okay? Don’t rat me out.”
She glanced at the caller ID and answered, “Boy, am I thrilled to hear from you.”
Molly didn’t want to think about anything except for Buddy right then—not Boone, not her old school, nothing. If it hadn’t been Sunday evening, she would have invited Lucy and Buddy over for dinner. As it stood, she figured Lucy was already in bed, hence the ability for Buddy to call. Hopefully, everything had gone well when he picked her up from her mother’s.
“Did everything go okay with Lucy last night?” she asked.
Molly heard him sigh, and her heart dropped. “Uh, not exactly. Molly, we have to talk.”
Fuck.