Letters to Molly (Maysen Jar, #2)(15)

“Finn.” Mom placed her hand over mine. “You are all over the place today. Take a vacation. Please. Work will always be there.”

“I know. I’m cutting back.”

She frowned. “Really?”

“I’m trying to cut back,” I admitted.

“Try harder.”

She’d said the same thing to me almost every week since she and Dad had moved to Bozeman. It was wonderful to have them closer, especially for the kids, but they had a lot more insight into my life.

And Mom—much like Jimmy and Randall, who were still arguing next to me—didn’t hold back her opinions on my lifestyle. Dad didn’t either.

They thought my business had caused a rift in my marriage that had eventually led to complete and utter destruction.

I didn’t agree. Sure, I’d gotten busy, but I’d been providing for our family. Molly knew that too.

My phone buzzed in my pocket—a text from my landscape designer, Bridget. She was having trouble figuring out a retaining wall for a property we were landscaping along the Gallatin River. I thumbed through the pictures she’d sent and texted back a couple ideas.

Then I dove into my breakfast and sipped my latte before it got cold. “Is Molly here?”

I hoped my question came across as casual, not the reason I’d come in here today. The last person who needed to know I’d had sex with Molly last night was my mother.

“I haven’t seen her yet, but she’s probably in the back with Poppy.”

I swallowed the last drink of my latte and pushed up from my stool. “I’m going to head on back there then. I need to talk to her about something.”

“Everything okay with the kids?” she asked.

My family knew that Molly and I didn’t do much anymore but talk about the kids. Our once-epic relationship had been reduced to conversations about pickups, drop-offs and the kids’ nights at her place versus mine.

“Kali and Max are great. I just need to visit with her about some schedule stuff.”

It was worth the lie. The truth would send Mom into a tizzy. She’d get her hopes up that Molly and I might reconcile. Worse, she’d get Poppy’s hopes up.

My sister had lived through enough heartache, so she didn’t need to be on the roller coaster that was Molly and me.

That ride had ended.

I pushed through the swinging door that separated the kitchen from the restaurant and found Poppy at her workstation, pressing circles of pie crust into miniature glass jars.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” She looked up, her hands covered in flour. “What are you doing here?”

I shrugged, sticking with the same lie I’d told Mom. “I had a slow morning at work.”

“Did you get breakfast?”

I nodded. “Mom fed me.”

Since the divorce, everyone’s top concern was my meals. Even though I’d taught myself how to cook—and pretty damn well—I was constantly given casseroles and frozen meals to reheat. It hadn’t gone unnoticed that they showed up the night before the kids were with me.

But the kids and I loved Poppy’s and Mom’s cooking, so I hadn’t put a stop to it.

“Is Molly here?” I asked.

“She’s in the office.”

“Thanks. I’m going to sneak back there.” Leaving her to the pies, I went to the office, rapping my knuckles on the door before going inside.

Molly was at the desk behind a laptop. Her eyes widened as I walked inside. “What are you doing here?”

I closed the door behind me. “Well, you kicked me out before we could talk this morning, so —”

“There’s nothing to discuss.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “It was a one-time lapse in judgment.”

“Yeah. I guess.” She was completely right, but her words didn’t settle with me.

I walked over to the wall Poppy had covered in corkboard squares so she could pin up a ton of pictures. I wasn’t ready to turn tail and leave this conversation, but I also needed a few moments because I had no idea what else to say.

Most of the pictures on Poppy’s wall were of her and Cole and their kids. There were some of me. Some of Molly. There were even a few from college, when Molly and I had been inseparable, when there hadn’t been a party we all hadn’t attended together.

When Jamie had been alive.

Damn, I missed that guy. I bet he’d tease the hell out of Molly and me for hooking up last night.

I wasn’t sure how Poppy could come in here and see his picture. It gutted me every time I saw his face and remembered he was gone. I still remembered his mother’s scream the night I’d called to tell his parents that their son had been murdered.

I forced my eyes away from a photo of Jamie sitting behind Poppy on a snowmobile. I scanned more photos, hoping Molly would be the one to break the silence.

I smiled at MacKenna’s and Brady’s faces. Even though she’d had a horrific few years, Poppy had made it through and was happier than ever with Cole by her side. With those two beautiful kids.

My smile dropped when I landed on a more recent photo. I hadn’t been in here for months, but now I wished I’d stopped in the back more often. The picture was of Brenna and me playing board games at Poppy and Cole’s place. It didn’t belong on this board.