"He said we shouldn't tell you. He said you shouldn't know. But I think that's forhissake, not yours."
"Knowwhat?Mama, please. Please tell me what's going on."
"I want to. I've wanted to forever. Since…well, always. I never wanted this, any of it."
Her gaze snaps behind her phone, and she freezes, puts on that bullshit smile and I hear my Dad say," What's going on?" his voice strange, hard.
"Hey," she says cheerily, trying to pull her face together. "I thought you were going to the gym."
This time, he sounds like himself. "I forgot my water. Is that Molly?" He appears next to her, smiling casually like Mom isn't sitting on the floor in her closet crying. "Hey, chicken! What are you up to?"
And on goes my bullshit smile too, since we're all lying. "Oh, not much, just ready for spring break!"
"You know what, honey," Mom starts, "let me call you back, okay?"
"I…ah--yeah! Yeah. Sure. Okay. Love y'all."
"Love you," they say in unison. And then she hangs up.
Every molecule in my body sinks, the hairs on the back of my neck rising, the sickening knot in my stomach twisting and tightening. I can't process what she said. How long has she been unhappy? Has she just been pretending?
Is it all just a lie?
And what else have they lied about? What secret did she want to tell me?
I have a feeling Dad's not going to the gym. Which means she won't call me back alone. Which means she won't tell me what the hell is going on.
Movement catches my eye--someone walking down the street with a dog.
I recognize him, the man from the baseball game. Older, quiet. Faded baseball cap. But this time, he's got a big, slobbery mutt, straining against its leash. He sees me, waves that neutral neighborhood sort of wave, and I wave back, still distracted.
But then his dog sees me and decides he has better plans--he pulls loose, wild eyed and tongue flopping, so happy to be running free, he looks like he's smiling. I laugh as he barrels up the steps and half into my lap to slobber all over me.
"Duke! Duke, get back here--" the man calls, trying to hurry after him.
But I don't mind--I can't help but giggle, taking his face in both hands and scratching his ears. "Oh my gosh, hi buddy!" And then he proceeds to lick me to death.
The man reaches the porch, apologetic. "I'm so sorry--he's got no manners."
"That's okay, I love dogs. He's sweet. Aren't you, Duke?' Duke pants and leans into my hands and slobbers, his tail going crazy.
The man watches me with Duke, something soft in his expression that I can't quite read, too well guarded.
"Did I meet you at a baseball game a couple weeks ago?"
"Not properly. Name's Danny."
I smile. "Molly. Nice to officially meet you."
A pause. "You too."
He looks at me for a moment, long enough that I almost ask if something's wrong. He clears his throat.
I keep my smile up against the strange energy. "What is it you do, Danny?"
"Quarry foreman, use'ta be. And you said you're the school librarian? Duke--oh hell, dog," he mumbles at the dog, trying to pull him away as he tries to climb into my lap like he weighs ten pounds and not sixty.
I giggle. "Really, he's all right. Yes, I'm the librarian at the elementary school."
