One Night with her Bachelor(13)
At least she still had a home to bring him home to. A month from now, she might not. She’d fallen a few months behind on her mortgage payments and couldn’t seem to get on top of her mounting debt. Tension pounded in her temples. The knot that had taken up residence between her shoulders grew tighter, harder.
“When are you taking off to get him?”
“In about twenty minutes.” She dropped her arm from Lily’s waist. “I need a sandwich first. Hungry?”
“Starved. Let me make it, though. You have a long drive ahead of you. Put your feet up.”
Panic hit Molly, and she rushed after Lily into the kitchen. “No, no, I can do it! Lil—”
“What the hell is this?” Lily pointed at the open refrigerator door. Its light was off and its shelves empty. She spun and looked at the ice chest on the floor next to the back door. Giving Molly a hard stare, she opened the ice chest and glared at the cheese and vegetables packed in the snow Molly had gathered this morning. Then she straightened and flipped the light switch on the wall.
Nothing.
Crossing her arms, she tipped her head to the side and raised her brows. “Want to tell me something?”
“I thought Josh and I should get back to basics and live a simpler life, Little House on the Prairie style.”
Lily shook her head. “When did they cut off the electricity?”
Molly’s shoulders slumped. “A week ago. It should be switched back on later today, though, so it’ll be on by the time Josh and I get back. I borrowed the money from Greg.”
“Jeez. How did that go down?”
Molly cringed. “About as well as you’d expect.” He’d accused her of seeing him as a cash cow and even made her sign a piece of paper saying she’d pay it back with five percent interest. “He’s actually been really good to Josh since the accident, but he loves making me squirm since I threatened him with a lawsuit for not paying child support a few years ago. I really, really don’t want to ask him for more.”
Problem was, she might have to. She’d received two bills this morning stamped with Final Notice in big, red letters. She bit her lip. She was desperate, and there was a subject she’d been meaning to broach with her friend but she didn’t know how. Lily’s former career was a sensitive subject, not something they’d ever talked about openly. Unlike most people in Marietta, Molly had met Lily long before she’d moved here to make a new life, so she’d always known how Lily had made her living in Billings. Also unlike most people in Marietta, Molly had never judged her for it. “Lil, can I ask you something about… about how to make a lot of money in a short amount of time?”
Lily’s brows snapped together. “No. Don’t even think about it.”
“But—”
“Seriously. No.”
Despair tinged with relief swept through her. “Yeah, it probably wouldn’t have worked anyway. I mean, I know my body’s kinda mommy-ish.”
“You have a great body compared to some of the women I worked with. That’s not the issue. You’re sweet and optimistic and believe the best in people. Stripping would kill that. Some women can hang onto that part of themselves. Some women can distance themselves from what they’re doing and who they’re doing it for. Not you, Mol. I know you well enough to be absolutely sure of that. It would kill the best parts of you.”
Molly rubbed her forehead. There it was again, though not in so many words. She was nice. She couldn’t pay her bills because she was too nice for the best-paid profession available to her. How unfair that tearing off her clothes and gyrating for strangers would leave her flush with cash while teaching kids to read and count had left her in crippling debt.
“I’ll figure something out.” She had to. She wouldn’t take Josh away from the comfortable home his dad provided and force him to grow up in a hovel just so she could stay close to the community she’d grown up in. She would figure out a solution. She had to.
They talked about nothing important as they ate, and then Lily left so Molly could get ready for the long drive to Colorado. She packed up her crochet bag—one of the only things that had kept her sane on the long, lonely evenings when she felt Josh’s absence most. Not having the brainpower to focus on a real project, she’d crocheted hundreds of squares in dozens of colors. She had no idea what she would do with them all. Maybe burn them, since they would only remind her of the worst months of her life.
She hoisted her overnight bag over her shoulder, locked up the house, walked down the porch stairs—and froze. Slowly she turned back around and looked at the stairs.
Shit.
The curse word fumed inside her as darkness and fury melded into a hot, living beast. The day after tomorrow, she would come home with her son in a wheelchair, and the only way to get into their house was up three stairs.
“Shit!” Five months ago, she had complete control over her mouth. Five months ago, she’d never had a violent impulse in her life. Now she needed to hit something, bad. Her gaze flew around the front yard, but everything was covered in snow. Fortunately her boots were heavy because she kicked the wooden stairs so hard she heard the crunch of wood breaking.
She sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Then another. And another.
Still angry, she stomped over to her truck, opened the door and threw her bag onto the passenger-side floor. She climbed in and turned the key in the ignition, watching the gas gauge climb steadily to the right. The familiar sight only made her more uncomfortable. A full tank, just like every Friday. She would have to fill up in Boulder for the journey home, but after she got home she would wake up to a full tank again. Her gas had been magically topped-up before and after every long trip.