“And I imagine you made a mushroom for Mushroom?”
“Oh my God, wait ’til you see it,” I tell her excitedly as I search for the finished patch in my craft box.
“Wow, you’re really good,” Molly says as she runs her thumb over the red mushroom cap. “And these white spots are blended in so smoothly. Honestly, you should sell these.”
As silly as it sounds, her praise makes me feel valuable. “I don’t know about that, they’re just for friends. But thank you.”
“They’re gonna love these, they’re so thoughtful and personal.”
“They loved the patch I made Hawk, and that gave me the idea.”
The memory of Hawk proudly parading his patch around the compound and telling everyone who’d listen about it makes me smile.
“Speaking of presents, did you manage to hide that terrifying plushie Mushroom got DJ?” I ask with a grimace, and Molly laughs.
“Eddie? Nope, haven’t even tried, DJ loves him too much.”
Hawk explained that the creature was the mascot of Mushroom’s favorite band, but that didn’t make him any less inappropriate as a toddler toy, in my view.
“You'd better start thinking about where to store all the toy bikes and HD baby merch he’s gonna get at the Wolves’ party,” Molly tells me.
“Dylan can keep those. Is that what they always got you?”
“Back when they celebrated my birthdays, they did. I’m sure Ryder still gets tons of stuff. And since he’s a boy, there’s gonna be a real bike and a car waiting for him as soon as he’s 16. Ugh. Sorry,” Molly says and shakes her head like she’s trying to dislodge the thoughts from it. “I love my brother, but… our father is an asshole.”
“I know. I’m sorry,” I say and squeeze her hand.
Although Sly's always been a shit dad to her, I still feel a little guilty whenever I think of my role in his imprisonment.
“Maybe he’s the reason I’m into older guys who don’t want me. Daddy issues,” Molly says self-deprecatingly.
“I have my fair share of those, so I get it. Family is weird. Hawk got me one of those DNA kits, find-your-ancestors or whatever, since I don’t even know my dad’s name. But I’ve been delaying sending it in. Rachel would probably call me a coward.”
Molly smiles. “Would she be right?”
My heart aches at the thought that I’ll probably never speak to Rach again.
“Yeah. I don’t understand myself. My whole life, I’ve been wondering about the other half of me. People say someone’s a chip off the old block. What does that make me? A splinter that doesn’t know what tree it came from? And now that I have the chance to find out, I’m paralyzed. I guess my fear of rejection is stronger than my curiosity.”
Then she frowns. “Is fear why you shut down my business idea?”
My cheeks warm. “I really don’t think my patches are good enough to be sold.”
“Despite my telling you they are? I don't say things just to be polite, Marissa. You need to believe me.”
I don’t want Molly to think I’m a crybaby, so I press my lips together.
“Maybe I do.”
*
The party started out wonderfully.
First, we had a barbecue at the clubhouse, then we all went for a celebratory ride, and now we’re back in Rat Park for cake and dancing.
The twins’ parents, Barb and Robert, share several amusing anecdotes from their childhood, much to Shroomie’s chagrin.
When it's time to open the presents, my patches are the biggest hit, although Hawk’s offerings of Iron Maiden merch for Shroomie and some new fishing gear for Shiner are a close second. That is, until Cotton shows up and gifts Shroomie a whole live rabbit.
