Jamie

Molly’s very easy to please. All it takes is crispy bacon, a bit of scrambled eggs, and some lightly buttered toast, and she’s putty in my hands. It’s all part of my evil plan to prove to her that I’m good boyfriend material. I may have my limitations, but I make up for them in other ways.

After we feed Gus and Charlie, we both brush our teeth in the bathroom and head out to the tattoo shop.

“What did that crazy motherfucker do to you?” Chloe says. “Molly, your poor face! Oh, my God, I could kill him!”

“There’s no need,” Molly says. “He’s dead.”

“What!” Chloe’s screech is deafening.

“He died of an accidentally self-inflicted stab wound to the chest.”

“What in the hell is an accidentally self-inflicted stab wound?” she says. “Were you there?”

Molly nudges me, and I realize Chloe’s talking to me. “Yes. I was there.”

“When Todd accidentally stabbed himself?” She sounds incredulous.

“Yes.”

“Was he, by any chance, trying to stab you at the time?”

I chuckle. “Yes.”

“I see,” Chloe says. “And he just happened to miss and hit himself instead? Well, I always suspected Todd was an idiot. Now I know.” Then her voice softens. “Molly, your poor face.”

“They’re just bruises,” Molly says. “And one small cut. They’ll heal.”

After assuring Chloe that Molly’s okay, we leave her still fuming at Todd and walk the short distance to Molly’s studio. I go in with her. The shop’s not open today, but she wants to work on paintings in the back room. I figure I’ll hang here for a while until she gets settled in to her work.

I listen as she takes off her coat and hangs it on a hook. Then she starts to gather her supplies – glass jars, brushes, fresh water from the faucet.

“I guess I’ll go home and do some work myself,” I tell her a little while later. I hate leaving her here alone. But I keep telling myself, Todd is dead. She’ll be safe. But will she be okay? “I’m only a phone call away,” I say. “If you need me for any reason at all, just call me, okay?”

“Okay.”

“How about if Gus and I come pick you up at five and take you out to dinner?”

“I’d love that,” she says, lifting up on her toes to kiss me.

“By the time we get home from dinner tonight, your bedroom should be cleaned up.”

When she doesn’t reply, I say, “Are you okay?”

She exhales heavily. “The idea of going back to my apartment isn’t very appealing. I want my things, but I don’t want to be there.”

I nod. “I figured as much. Why don’t you stay with me, in my apartment, for the time being? We’ll move your stuff into my place this evening.”

“Thank you. I’d like that. You don’t mind?”

I laugh. “Are you kidding? I’ve been doing everything I possibly can to get you into my life. No, I don’t mind.”

* * *

On the way back to my apartment, I stop in for a quick chat with Chloe. She’s Molly’s best friend, and that makes her important to me. When I enter the tattoo parlor where she works, I find her on the phone, and clearly not in a good mood.

“What do you mean sometime next week? I have no fricking heat, Mr. Carver! In case you haven’t noticed, it’s pretty damn cold outside! It’s winter!”

I step up to the counter and wait for her conversation to end.

“Well, that’s no excuse. It’s so cold I can’t even bear to take a shower in my own apartment. You’re the landlord, for crying out loud. You’re supposed to fix the things that aren’t working, and my heat’s not working!”

She’s quiet for a moment, listening to the other party of the call. I can just barely make out the muffled voice of a man. It doesn’t look like her landlord is giving her good news. “I’m calling the housing authority if you don’t do something about the heat.”

She ends the call and sets her phone down on the counter top with an exasperated sigh. “I should just move. My lease is up next month anyway, and the place is a total dump.” She takes a deep, cleansing breath as she abruptly switches gears. “Howdy, handsome,” she says, her tone brightening instantly. “What brings you in here?”

I listen intently, but I can’t tell if we’re alone in her shop or not. I hear a couple of muted voices, but it sounds like they’re coming from a back room.

“It’s okay. We’re alone,” she says. “Say what’s on your mind.”

“Molly’s having a rough time processing everything that’s happened.”

“No kidding,” she says. “The guy was her husband, for crying out loud. They were happy once. Then he had to go and turn into a freaking monster.”

“I was hoping you would keep an eye on her. Maybe stop over and check on her this afternoon? I’ll be back at five to take her to dinner.”

“Sure, of course I will.”

Chloe gives me her mobile number, and I send her a text so she’ll have my number as well.

“Thanks,” I say. “If she needs anything, call me.”

* * *

When we get back to the apartment building, there’s a spat of activity going on out front. I hear a lot of people – men from the sound of it – carrying a lot of heavy stuff.

“Find the door, Gus,” I say, and Gus leads me up the stone steps. Inside the lobby, I hear an unfamiliar female voice coming from the left – from Apt 1A. Mrs. Powell’s apartment.

“Be careful, that’s very fragile!” the young woman says.

“Hello,” I say. “Can I help you?”

She pauses near me. “Oh, hi. I’m Cheryl Powell. I’m moving my grandmother out of her apartment and into my house.”

“Ah, Mrs. Powell.”

“Yes.” The young woman lowers her voice, speaking barely above a whisper. “I’m afraid she can’t live on her own anymore. It’s just not safe. Her memory’s just not what it used to be.”

“I’m sorry to see her go,” I say, not knowing what else I can say. Mrs. Powell let Todd into the building on several occasions, always confused and thinking Todd was Molly’s husband, so I can’t say I’m sorry to hear she’s moving out.

“Well, it’s for the best. I’ll be able to care for her better if she’s living with me.”

Mrs. Powell comes out of her apartment, fussing at one of the movers. She stops abruptly. “Oh, hello, dear,” she says.

I assume she’s talking to me. “Hello, Mrs. Powell.”

“He’s the nice young man I was telling you about, Cheryl. He’s married to the young woman who lives upstairs.”

“That’s nice, Grandma. Come back inside the apartment while we pack up the last of your stuff.”

After Mrs. Powell has shuffled back into her apartment, the young woman says, “Sorry about that.”

“No problem,” I say, laughing. “It’s not a bad idea.”

* * *

Gus and I head up the stairs. When I open the door to my apartment, Charlie’s there to greet us, purring loudly as we enter.

“You guys entertain yourselves. I’ve got work to do.” 

I’m having trouble focusing on this new novel I’m writing. My mind keeps wandering back to Molly. I hope she’s doing okay. Maybe I shouldn’t have left her alone today. I didn’t want to smother her, but maybe it’s too soon for her to be alone all afternoon.

I lean back in my office chair and put my feet up on the desk. I review the last chapter I dictated to get caught up, then proceed with dictating the next chapter.

An hour later I’m still at it, actually making some decent progress, when my editor, Kara, calls just to check up on me. She calls me once a week to touch base and see how things are going.

After a couple of hours of productive writing, an idea occurs to me. I pick up my phone and call Chloe.

“Wow, twice in one afternoon,” she says. “I must be doing something right. What’s up, stud?”

“How would you like to move into our apartment building? The two units on the first floor are both opening up. I think Molly would love having you downstairs.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously. You said your current lease is up next month. Now’s the perfect time to move.”

She sighs. “I’d love to, but I don’t think I can afford it.”

“The landlord’s a pretty reasonable guy. I think I can work something out for you.”

“Really? Oh, my God, that would be awesome! I’d love to live in your building.”

When we hang up, I call Shane.

“Hey, Jamie, what’s up?” my brother says.

“Mrs. Powell is moving out of Apt 1A. I want Molly’s friend Chloe to move in there. I think Molly would really like that.”

“Okay. Both of the downstairs units are opening up. I’m thinking of moving Cameron Stewart into one of the units. I’d feel better if I had one of my guys on the premises.”

“Shane.” Mentally, I’m rolling my eyes. “Todd Ferguson is no longer a threat, to me or to Molly, and as far as I know, neither one of us has any other nemeses lurking in the background.”

Shane laughs. “I know. Just humor me, okay. Mom doesn’t like you living alone. Having one of my guys living in your building will go a long way toward alleviating her concerns. And, it would make Elly happy too. She tries not to show it, but she worries about you.”

I sigh. “All right, fine.” The things we do for family. But Cameron’s a good guy. I’ve met him several times. He’s former special forces, a real no-nonsense straight shooter. He’ll make a good neighbor.