Nevertheless, she refused to acknowledge her pulled pork craving—or any of the others. None of them were appropriate cravings. They were mediocre consolations at best, not things she’d ever craved before. Or things that deserved her craving attention.
Not like strawberry shortcake, for example. Her most favorite dessert of all time.
Though she’d never admit it.
If anyone asked, she said chocolate cake because that made more sense. A girl could reasonably like chocolate cake. The rich, dense crumb of the layers made sense.
Strawberries were nice and shortcake was fine, but it wasn’t…wow.
Pulled pork was neither chocolate cake nor strawberry shortcake. Definitely not a Sunday at the park with her best friends.
This. This here at the park.Thiswas one of her favorite things.
Laying on the itchy grass, watching the clouds that refused to make shapes today, ignoring all chatter because nothing felt right and everything felt wrong.
“Are you ready to talk about it?” Rachel asked.
“About what?” Molly replied. Yes, she sounded extremely grumpy. She cleared her throat and said again, this time much more gently, “About what?”
“Uh, Gavin,” Sadie said.
“I saw the show,” April added. “It was on fire. You beat out the puppies!”
Only one puppy—and one baby—but she wouldn’t correct April.
April had actually shown up and the occasion deserved celebration.
Turned out, April had been holding out on her girlfriends. Or, at least, Molly. Because April was building up a whole Calm Mommy online empire in the wake of her ex’s assholery. Meanwhile, Molly had been off in Mollyland, not even realizing it.
She mentally kicked herself for being too caught up in her own life to see what was right in front of her face with April.
“You were totally on fire,” Rachel agreed.
Molly wasn’t so sure. She didn’t feel like she was on fire, if “on fire” was a good thing. Now, if “on fire” was an uncomfortable thing? Then, yes. Yes, she did feel like the show was on fire.
“Double entendres are ‘on fire’?” Molly asked, sitting up on her elbows, much to her dismay. Couldn’t she just lay there miserable in the itchy grass, thinking about Gavin, without anyone forcing her to talk about it?
“The way you two did them,” Rachel said, innocent like she wasn’t trying to fix Molly’s perfectly ruined Sunday morning. “That whole thing was something else.”
Yes, it had been. It’d also knocked her into first place as a matchmaker.Take that, perfect Peter and your perfect couple and your perfect baby and your perfect puppy.
That wasn’t even sarcasm. Peter and Chrisweretotally perfect. They even sent her a gourmet gift basket telling her how excited they were to be in the contest with her—the kind of basket filled with pears and French chocolate and three kinds of cheese with those fancy crackers she loved but never bought because they cost way too much money for crackers.
That gift basket did not feel like a “fuck you” gift basket. Not one with sparkling cider and plastic cups—that would’ve been a whole different message. This one…it was sent with thought and genuine expensive-cracker generosity.
“I’m so confused.” Molly didn’t mean for the words to come out as a wail. And yet… there they were.
“What do you want?” April asked, like a woman who was also searching for the answer to that question. “Really want?”
“To go back in time,” Molly said. To be a better girlfriend to Ollie’s dad so he wouldn’t leave her high and dry and pregnant as all hell.
“What do you want that you can actually have?” Rachel asked.
“More,” Molly said, instantly. The word spilled from her lips with no thought and with no permission whatsoever.
“You’re trying too hard,” Sadie said gently, like Molly was about to bolt.
She wasn’t. She’d had half a tumbler of mimosa that was heavy on the sparkling wine, so if she tried to run anywhere she’d end up with a sprained ankle and a whole heap of bruised pride.
