Tangled Up in Daydreams (26 page)

“Come on, let's go.”

“Think I qualify for worker's comp, Dad?”

“Cute. My daughter the comedienne.”

Henry helped situate Molly in the front seat, then kissed her on the cheek.

“I'll be home as soon as I can.” Henry, continuing.

“Dad, you have the party.” Molly, stating.

“I know, but …”

“Henry, I'll stay with her,” Renee affirmed.

“Thanks, Renee.”

“No problemo.”

Renee drove fast and hard to the hospital. By the time they got there, Molly was even woozier and Renee had to help her out of the car. Molly's blood had seeped through the towel and had splatter-painted the front of both their aprons. Renee signed her in and soon Molly was again on a table with her hand propped, watching the doctor probe for glass.

“I think I'm going to be sick.” Putting her free hand to her mouth.

“Here.” The nurse handed her a pan. “Maybe you shouldn't watch.”

“Maybe you're right.” Wiping off her mouth.

“Molly, you have been getting sick a lot lately,” Renee added from her seat in the corner.

“Is that so?” The doctor asked as he irrigated the wound.

“It's nothing. Just been feeling a little queasy every so often.” Lying down on the raised bed. “How big was the glass?”

“I'll show you when I am done.” Beginning the stitches. “I think you are going to need about six.”

“Nice enough number.”

“How often have you been throwing up?” The doctor asking.

“I don't know.”

“It's been a few times in the last three weeks. Maybe five total,” Renee answered.

“Man, you pay attention.” Molly looked at Renee. “Must be MSP kicking in.”

“MSP?”

“Motherhood special powers.”

“Have you been taking any new medication? Or eating anything strange? It could be a side effect or an allergy.”

“No, nothing new.”

“When was your last period?”

“About a month or so ago.” Molly, trying to count back.

“How ‘or so'?”

“Maybe I'm a little late, but I have been traveling and let's just say stress is an understatement.”

“Well, you are all set here. Nice piece of glass.” Placing a bandage on her hand and showing Molly the shard. “Why don't I run a few tests and then you can be on your way.”

“What? Like a pregnancy test?” Molly's face paled.

“That, and I will do some other cultures to see if it is bacteria of some sort. The nurse will draw some blood and if you can provide a urine sample, we will go from there.”

“Fine, I do kind of have to pee.” Sitting up and swinging her legs off the bed.

“Slow down a little, Molly,” Renee asserted.

Molly stood up and took the cup from the nurse. She went to the bathroom and sat down. The twinge had returned and began attaching to every nerve in the base of her back. It slowly grew like a spiderweb, delicately lacing and coiling itself onto Molly's spine. There was no way in hell she was pregnant. Molly sat on the toilet and prayed for E. coli.

By the time blood was drawn, bloody aprons tossed in the trunk, and Tylenol downed, Molly was in a state of panic. Renee tried the entire ride home to elicit some sort of response, but Molly just sat there, drugged and distressed.

“Relax. You probably have a stomach bug or something.”

“Yeah,” Molly responded halfheartedly. “Just a bug.”

“The doctor said it easily could be a virus. No sense flipping out until tomorrow.”

“Okay, whatever.”

Renee pulled into the driveway and helped Molly from the car. They went inside, up the stairs, and Renee eased Molly out of her dirty clothes. She fished in Molly's drawer for some pajamas.

“These okay?” Lifting out a pair of blue sweats and a faded red T-shirt.

“Fine.”

“Do you want to try to clean up a little?”

“I should.” Looking at the spattered blood on her arms. “Can you help me?”

“Of course. Sit tight and I will run some water in the bath.”

Renee went into Molly's bathroom and ran a tub. Molly could hear every sound amplified. The rush of water, the swirl of a hand, the unfolding of a terry towel. Every quiet sound was a cacophony blaring in Molly's ear. Even the whir of the air conditioner made the hairs on her legs quiver with attention.

A few hours later Molly woke up and her hand felt like it had grown into the Super Bowl blimp. It pulsed like a vibrator, only it wasn't emitting stimulating beats. Molly slowly lifted herself up and tread softly into the bathroom. Her hair was sticking out on the left side and everytime she moved her arm she felt the swelling pain. On the countertop was a bottle of Tylenol. Molly popped two more, peed, and then carefully wrapped herself into a black cashmere cardigan. Her mouth felt like sandpaper after priming a summer deck. All she could think of was orange juice and seeing if there was a chainsaw in the garage to amputate the aching wound. When she got downstairs the living room was overflowing with people. Renee was holding court from the couch with Abby, Lisa, and Corey. They were all in the midst of hilarity when Molly shuffled by and plopped herself on the couch next to Renee.

“Hi, guys.” Trying to smooth her Medusa mane. “I guess our whole drink plan didn't work out too well. Sorry.”

“No worries. We brought the drinks to you,” Lisa answered as she got up and gave Molly a kiss on the cheek. “Margarita?” Tucking a wisp of her black bob behind her ear.

“Actually, just some juice. I just took some pain pills the doctor gave me and I wouldn't want to start drooling.”

“Like senior prank night?” Corey got up to help Lisa and squeezed Molly's shoulder. “To this day I have never seen anyone puke up so much in so many colors.”

“Thanks. Nice to see you too.” Winking at Corey. “You were right there next to me, buddy. We both woke up facing the porcelain goddess.”

“True, true.” Laughing as he walked into the kitchen.

“How does it feel?” Renee asked, looking at Molly's wrapped hand.

“Like I wish I had a phantom limb.”

“That bad?”

“Kind of. I'll survive.” Readjusting. “Abby, where is Scott?”

“He had to work late.”

“I haven't seen you guys in so long. I think since the wedding.”

“Well, that's what happens when you move to LA, become fabulous, and start dating a rock star.”

Renee tossed Abby a look, and Abby blushed with embarrassment. Her head of blond curls tumbled as she tried to recoup.

“I'm sorry.”

“It's fine. I liked the fabulous part.” Smiling at her friend. “Hey, Corey!” Yelling. “Think you could bring some food in here as well? I should probably eat something.”

“I'll get it.” Abby got up and pulled down her light blue work shirt. “I brought over some snacks, which now that I think about it was kind of stupid seeing whose house this is.”

“It's a good thing. With the big party at the restaurant, there is zero food here. Plus, I never turn down snacks.”

Abby got up to join the rest of the crew in the kitchen to assemble the poo-poo platter and Molly, feeling the effects of the medicine, tucked herself deeper into the couch.

“You didn't say anything about you know what to anyone?” Molly asked Renee.

“No, of course not. I told your parents that they stitched you up and everything was going to be fine.”

“Ha!”

“Molly, just enjoy your friends tonight and we will go from there? Okay?”

“Okay.” Leaning over and giving Renee a kiss. “Thanks. For this and before. I know you were trying to help and I am here for you too.”

“Thanks. I feel a little shitty that I laid that on you about Alex.”

“It does suck to know how absolutely awful my brother can be, but if you have learned to forgive him, which obviously you have seeing how your stomach continues to grow exponentially, then I can't create my own drama with him. I don't want to become one of those tsking friends who judge. It just is unfortunate that he lost some of his glow.”

“I know, but it does slowly come back. New experiences, like our baby, kind of rebuff the surface and make everything shiny again. Maybe that will happen with you and Liam.”

“Maybe, maybe I am not as forgiving, I don't know.” Running her good hand over her hair. “By the way, how cute does Corey look? I love his hair longer.” Changing the subject.

“I know. It almost makes me want to rekindle our torrid tenth-grade affair.”

“What affair?”

“You remember. We made out for, like, a week in February before it all got too weird.”

“No, I do not remember. Are you sure? Because I had a torrid affair with Corey junior year for about a week in March.”

“That little prick!” Renee laughed. “I bet he made out with Lisa and Abby too.”

“Perk of being friends with a group of girls.”

“Did he do that weird tongue twirl?”

“Yes!” Shrieking with laughter. “Renee, what was that?”

“To this day I have no idea.” Laughing harder.

Corey, Lisa, and Abby all returned to the living room carrying trays of beverages and food. They carefully placed everything on the glass coffee table and sat back down.

“What's so funny?” Lisa asked as she took a sip of her margarita.

“Did you ever make out with Corey?” Molly asked.

“What are you talking about?” Corey blushed ever so slightly.

“Of course I did.”

“Me too,” Abby added. “Senior year fall.”

“Senior prank night before the dueling pukers,” Lisa noted.

“You slut!” Renee chided.

“I deny everything!” Blushing more.

“I can't believe you made out with all of us,” Abby stated.

“What guy wouldn't have?”

“So you admit it!” Molly shouted

“Well …” Taking a large swig.

“Can I just ask one thing?” Lisa interjected. “What the hell was that weird tongue-twisting thing you did?”

Molly and Renee laughed even louder and harder, their giggles ricocheting around the room like rubber bullets. Soon all of the gang dissolved into the same hysterics and the evening progressed much the same way. At some point, Molly faded into the couch, and Renee and Corey had to help her upstairs. They settled her in her bed, turned out the lights, and left Molly to her dreams.

Molly woke up feeling hot pink and fleshy. Everything felt tender, like lips stung by a jalapeño. Her mouth was the Sahara and she crawled from the bed, tipped her head under the sink, and drank greedily. She ran some water for a bath and eased herself out of her clothing, being careful not to bump her hand. She slid into the tub and the hot water wrapped around her. Molly held her hand out of the water and looked at her nails. Some were still caked with blood. She took a washcloth and methodically cleaned her cuticles. The cut didn't hurt as much today—all that was left was a dull ache. Molly was used to dealing with those. Molly placed the washcloth on her head and rewound yesterday's activities. Talking with her father, Elizabeth, Renee, being at the restaurant, getting the stitches, seeing her friends, and then, the potential disaster awaiting her. It had been too big of a day and Molly felt turned around. She was definitely struggling to find which end was up. Her head was lolling about somewhere by her feet while her toes brushed the ceiling.

Molly thought about her parents and what this whole saga was doing to them. She could imagine them huddled together in their California King worrying about their only daughter. Wondering what they did to encourage her to get mixed up with a guy who lives on an edge not even they saw in their hippie pot-smoking days. Wondering if anything they say or do will push Molly one way or another, wondering if they should speak their minds or hold their tongues. Wishing that their daughter could have found some nice, normal man with a normal job and a less extensive list of problems. Wishing Molly had someone like Renee to come home to, someone who they knew would remain centered and supportive and forgiving in a way they would never fathom. Knowing that there was no way in hell Molly was going to listen to anything anyone says because she never has. Praying that Liam would love her better. Hoping things would get better.

Molly took a deep breath and went underwater feeling the need to be submerged and held down. She wanted to feel weightless, to feel nothing. She broke the surface and ran her healthy hand over her face to brush the water from her eyes. She stared at the ceiling and counted the tiles. There were twenty-five yellow ones. It was right then that Molly knew she didn't belong lounging in her childhood any longer. She was too old to be so young. And what if she was pregnant? What if some little thing was growing in her? Then what? What the hell was she going to do? Molly ran her hand over her flattish stomach and looked at her belly button trying to see what was inside. No way. It was just a bug, some sort of flu. She kept her hand there just in case.