Sorry, folks. New schedule, and I got behind. But here’s the entry for December 7th. Today’s will be up later.
December 7
“Bah, humbug.”
Molly looked out the window at the backyard and tried to figure out why she was so grumpy. Part of it was Tom, of course – despite everything, he still managed to get under her skin. And that damn SA, too. Who was he?
Schrodinger poked his head around the edge of the doorway and blinked sleepily at her. Is it time to get up?
Even cranky, Molly couldn’t help smiling at him. The CrossCat was too damn cute for his own good. “Only if you want to share my tea and my grump,” she said. “It’s only about 7 am.”
Yes, but the bed is now cold, because I’m the only one in it. His mental voice was plaintive. And it’s Tuesday. Why did you get up early on Tuesday? Do we have to make something? Or be somewhere?
“No, I just couldn’t sleep.” Molly looked back out the window. It was a day that matched her mood: grey, heavy clouds hung low in the sky, sulking just over the tops of the houses and trees. The snowman they had built in the backyard raised lonely hands to the clouds, as if appealing to someone, anyone, to come and join him. His cap, knit by Molly’s mother for her two years ago, had slipped down to one side, giving him a slightly rakish, slightly desperate look.
After inspecting his food bowl briefly, Schrodinger climbed nimbly up into her lap and, instead of curling up like he normally did, he faced her. Why do you let Tom do that?
“Do what?”
Fluster you.
Fluster wasn’t quite the word Molly would have used, but it worked. She sighed and cupped his fuzzy cheek. “I don’t know,” she said. “If I knew, maybe it wouldn’t bother me.”
Do you love him? Schrodinger reached up and placed a silky paw on her cheek. Do you want him back?
Molly swallowed. Part of her did, badly, desperately – wanted to recapture the early days of their relationship, when everything had seemed lit from within by her happiness. But another part of her, the wiser part, reminded her about the absences, the long silences – and while she knew as a Gate tech that was part of his job, there had been too many on short notice, and too many that hadn’t seemed to correspond with any Road work that she knew about. Even his fellow techs had commented on how often he was gone.
And then there had been that odd call, the one that had made Tom go white when she’d played it for him – a young girl’s voice, asking for Tom with an odd accent. The call that had completely shattered her trust in him.
Molly?
Schrodinger’s questioning voice snapped her out of the memory and she blinked at him. “Sorry. Old thoughts.” Molly shook her head. “Do I love him? I do. Not the way I did, and I’m not ready to let him back in our lives, though. Not like that. I just don’t trust him anymore.” Then she focused back on the CrossCat. “What about you? Do you want him back here?”
Only if it makes you happy, Schrodinger said, leaning up against her. His purr vibrated through her, warming her and chasing away, at least for a little bit, her blue mood.
Later that afternoon, though, the gloom settled in again, heavy as the clouds pressing down from above. Molly sat at the dining room table, flipping desultorily through her cookbooks, looking for a good recipe for the tea house, hoping the familiar act of baking would raise her mood. Problem was, her creativity and impetus to do anything other than sit and sulk was as flat as the sky outside.
Then someone knocked on her door. The sound echoed through the silent apartment; Molly jumped, her heart pounding at the sudden surprise. Then she shook herself. Probably one of the girls, looking in on her.
But it was Drew standing on the small landing, a large holly wreath in his hands. “Hey,” he said, grinning. “I come in peace.” And he held out the wreath.
“Thank you, but you didn’t need to,” Molly said, accepting it. “Come in for tea?”
“Thanks.” Drew followed her into the apartment, pulling off his jacket and hanging it up on the hooks by the door. “That’s from all of us, by the way.”
“All of you?”
“Me, Luke, Mal, Jake, Tom and Patrick,” he said, then flushed. “Well, it was going to be from us. But when I got to the stand…”
“It was already waiting for you,” Molly said, plucking the red envelope from between the leaves. “So you decided to deliver it?”
He nodded. “That way, I could scope out to see if you had a tree yet. So we could get you that. We really, really appreciate all the cookies and tea you’ve sent over this year to the station.”
Molly blushed a little at that. “I was just being friendly,” she said, and put the wreath on the counter. “You don’t need to get me anything. But I appreciate the sentiment. Too bad my secret admirer beat you guys to the punch.”
Drew watched as she opened the envelope, pulled out the mini CD and a small note. “What does it say?”
“Dear Molly, I saw you had no wreath, and, well, pretty girls should have pretty decorations. Thank you for being a lovely part of the Cove. SA.” She looked at the CD. “I wonder what carol he sent me this time.”
“I’ll bet it’s the Holly and the Ivy,” Drew said. “Considering that’s what the wreath is made of.”
Molly shook her head. “This is so weird,” she said. “Why now? Why, after all this time, is Tom playing these games?”
“Do you think SA is Tom?” Drew said.
“Who else could it be?” Molly asked. “Most of the guys here in town treat me like one of their sisters, after all. And Tom…” Her voice trailed off.
“Look, Molly, I don’t want to give advice or anything. Heck, I’m not even from around here, so I don’t want to pretend that I know what went on between you and Tom.” Drew hesitated, and then continued, “But do me two favors, okay?”
She looked at him.
“Don’t be too hard on Tom; his heart’s in the right place, even if he acts like an idiot when he tries to follow it.”
“What’s the second favor?” Molly said, eying him.
He surprised her by leaning in and brushing a light kiss on her forehead. “Don’t believe that every other guy here thinks of you as his sister. I can tell you that in at least three cases, you’re definitely wrong.”
Before she could say anything else, his phone buzzed loudly. He looked at the message it displayed, swore and grabbed his coat. “Sorry, gotta go. Mal says there’s a VIP coming through one of the Gates. Talk to you later!”
And he was gone.