“Molly. Sugar.” Char heard a tinge of exasperation in her voice and paused to glide her tongue along the backs of her teeth.“You are truly welcome to pick up this cell phone and use it whenever and for however long you would like. It makes no never mind to me or Cam or the phone company. I never use up my allotted minutes.” Well, not every month, anyway.
Molly sat at the kitchen table, her hands tightly clasped beside the phone, a forlorn expression on her face. “You’re sure?”
Standing at the counter, Char traced the fronts of her teeth and swiveled around to pick up the coffee carafe. How could the woman be so out of touch with the twenty-first century?
“Molly, I am sure.” She poured the last of the coffee into her mug.
“I would have used Jo’s earlier, but she didn’t take it to the restaurant. It must be hormones.”
“What must be hormones?” Char turned to face her.
“This…” Molly waved her hands above her head and twirled her fingers. “This…I don’t know! This out-of-body experience.”
“You’re having an out-of-body experience?”
“It feels that way. Like my brain detached itself. I don’t feel in control. Not that I am truly ever in control, but this is like I don’t know what’s going to come out of my mouth until it’s already been said.”
“Sounds like caffeine overload. How much coffee have you had?”
“Only a cup, and most of that was soymilk. Ten minutes ago I was fine. And now look at me.” She pulled the elastic from her ponytail and combed her fingers through her hair. “I’m totally unnerved because there is no telephone in this place!”
“There are three, hon. Three cell phones and you are welcome to use any of them. Jo would even turn hers on more than once a day for you.”
Char sipped from what was her fourth cup of coffee. Evidently her caffeine tolerance surpassed Molly’s. Only now did she begin to feel awake and ready to face the day, which appeared to be developing into a complicated one. Jo’s moodiness remained intact after twelve years. She had disappeared into her room again. Char wondered if she should check on her. Or search the room for a bottle? No way was she climbing into a car with a drunk behind the wheel.
Then there was Andie. Spunky aside, she’d always possessed an eggshell exterior and, like last night, it was shattered on a regular basis. Nothing new there—until Char found her first thing that morning wiggling into a wet suit, asking for help with the back zipper. It was as if a hard-boiled interior had emerged, a totally uncharacteristic version of the soft woman she knew. Andie was simply the last woman on earth who would surf, especially with a stranger.
And Molly was the last woman on earth who would fall apart over a telephone. Maybe it had something to do with her fortieth and that business she mentioned about Scott, something about pretending their marriage was okay.
Molly fiddled with the phone. “It’s just that I’ve never been away from the kids for such a long period of time.”
Long period—What? “Twenty-four hours?”
“Well-l-l, it will be a long time before I get home.”
“Honey, how are you and Scotty? You said something about your birthday…”
“We’re fine. We’re working on some issues. You probably know what I mean. You’ve made it to what? Fifteen, sixteen years?”
“Seventeen.”
“Seventeen. That’s great. We were just growing apart. I was feeling—” Abruptly she stood. “Will you excuse me, please? I have to call him.” Without a backward glance, she palmed the cell, her long legs already in motion. She crossed the room and went down the hallway.
Char remained standing and drank her coffee. Molly probably wouldn’t care to hear how she and Cam had made it to seventeen years. How a couple could just ignore the inevitable growing apartness. How she could find fulfillment in school and community affairs and innumerable friends. How he could be content fixing teeth and watching television and not be concerned that one of her closest confidants was the neighbor guy. Why go to all the effort of working on issues?
Oh, well. Different strokes for different folks.