Yes, life changed, but would it really be so hard for it to freaking at least try to fit into some semblance of the design she endlessly had to adjust?
The alert chime on her front door beeped.
She looked up.
“Just us,” Molly said, letting herself in and striding through the living room to the kitchen with her son Oliver. “I came early to help you clean up.” She pulled the tablet from her purse and handed it to Oliver. He grinned like it was Christmas morning,since Rachel happened to know that Molly was stingy with screen time.
Which was odd, if you asked Rachel, given her profession as a MyTube personality.
Sunday mornings were for their “special” working mom meeting at the neighborhood park. Special because they all brought mimosas. Also, the moms each owned a business of some sort,but this was not a work meeting. This was a let-the-kids-play-while-the-moms-catch-up-on-all-the-things-that-happened-that-week meeting.
Oliver settled on the sofa and Molly turned her focus to Rachel standing in the kitchen.
She paused, probably because the kitchen was clean. Not just after-party-exhausted clean, butRachelclean. And Molly knew Rachel well enough to know that after the party she’d have crashed and left the details for the next day.
“Did the house-cleaning, margarita fairy visit your house last night?” Molly eyeballed the half-empty remnants of Rachel’s last-night cocktail. “Or do you have a new best friend you forgot to mention?”
“How could I possibly replace you? You’d never allow that.” Rachel grinned.
“So it was a margarita fairy,” Molly said.
“Yes. Well, mostly.” He’d cleaned up after himself and even used the special spray that Rachel liked because it smelled like lavender.
Not that he’d known it was her favorite—it was the only cleaning spray in the kitchen—but what kind of guy even used cleaner? Didn’t they usually just go for a wet paper towel and call it good? Or was that only her experience?
“He?” Molly’s eyes turned to slits. “Like a mystical man creature who fills your cup with cocktails?”
Well, that was one way to put it.
“Something like that.” Rachel poured a dollop of milk into her coffee.
“Who…” Molly placed both palms on the counter, totally serious. “Is he?”
“Pretty sure he’s like the Tooth fairy, and he’d prefer to stay anonymous.” Rachel shrugged.
Molly pursed her lips like she did when she was thinking too hard. “Was it Dave? I bet it was Dave.”
Rachel poured cereal into a bowl. “It wasn’t Dave.”
“Gavin?” Molly didn’t seem certain about this guess, but she tossed it out anyway. “Did Dakota keep the boys so your ex-husband could bring you drinks because they realized they take advantage of your awesomeness and therefore don’t deserve your goodness?”
Rachel sipped her coffee. Fine, she chugged her coffee. “Travis.”
She wasn’t good at keeping secrets. Why would she in this case, anyway? Molly needed to help her dissect why he’d returned after everyone had left. Why he’d come bearing gifts. Why he’d cleaned up the rest of the kitchen when Rachel fell asleep. And why he’d covered her with a blanket before he left. Why? All the whys?
“Travis?” Molly stared. “Is this a joke?”
Rachel gave her head a slight shake and said, “Have I ever joked about Travis?”
Molly’s mouth fell comically open, then she used the back of her hand to push it closed. This was Molly and her flare for dramatics and propensity toward slapstick—both of which made her MyTube channel so popular.
“Stop, it’s not a big deal.” Rachel spoke with certainty. “He felt bad because I’d had a rough week.”
Molly lifted the cocktail from where Rachel had set it beside the sink. She examined it.
“That’s from last night. I wouldn’t—”
Molly took a slug of the cocktail.
