little statues of angels to keep on their bedside tables, little angel bookmarks, posters; one of her friends even had an angel tattoo on her belly, a sexy little angel. “Great place for a guardian angel,” Molly had said with a laugh. “Think that will keep the boys out of your pants?” But her friend had just given her a sly look, said, “Oh, no, it’ll make ’em want to come a little closer for a good look at what I have.”
Molly thought that was trashy, but she didn’t say so. She knew the way to keep her friends was to keep half her thoughts to herself. Like church. Most of her friends went to church. Mostly Baptist, and they were always trying to bring her along. But she got out of it by saying she was Catholic; she had her own faith. Right. They used to be Catholic, which meant her dad could run around all he wanted as long as he confessed, said a few Hail Marys. All that faith in God hadn’t done her mother any good with the breast cancer. No, it was a good doctor and a plastic surgeon who’d saved her from that. Her mother had learned a few things from how the church and a husband could fail you. She went to a women’s support group every Wednesdaynight—an excuse to drink wine and gossip, but it made her mom strong. She’d learned a few things there and kept repeating them to Molly: “Believe in this world, not the next, Molly. Keep your body fit, your mind sharp, and your money invested. If your wits don’t save you, nobody will.” With her mother’s words in mind, she remembered what day it was and hurried down the hall to her room. Molly sat at her computer to log on to the college website to see if the class she wanted had any openings yet.
Down the street, Jesse unhooked the leash from his dog and let him run through the woods alongside the trail. He needed to run. He thought about the girl. Yeah, she’d seen him. And what was with that stopping and bending down to tie her shoes? He let the dog run and sniff and pee on just about every tree in those woods. Dogs did that. Marked turf. He loved that dog, his muscled chest, the way his fur glimmered in the light, loved watching him run through those woods like the wild thing he ought to be.
His cell phone buzzed. His mother. She’d been completely on his ass since he’d stayed at Mike’s that night. He answered. “I’m walking Luke; I’ll be right home. Yes, ma’am,” he said. He clicked off the phone. He’d forgotten to edge the sidewalk after he’d mown the grass. Everyone else in the neighborhood had a lawn service. But oh, no, his parents had him, not a good boy but the bad boy, the one they’d bought on sale and couldn’t take back to the store. He called his dog, and he came running and stood at Jesse’s side while he clipped the leash on. He crouched, patting the dog’s side with firm, loving smacks. He ruffled the dog’s ears, bent close, whispered, “We’ve got a job to do, Luke. Let’s go.”
Molly looked at the clock. Just after 5:00. Perfect timing , she thought. It was the last day for students to pay their tuition; as of 5:00, those who hadn’t paid would be purged. Purged , she thought. It was an ugly word, as if the great computer system vomited out the poor ones who didn’t have the money, whose financial aid hadn’t come. So they were purged from the classes they’d registered in—no money, no class. The world isn’t fair , she thought, and that really did strike her as a sad thing for a moment. It wasn’t fair, but at least now there was a chance she could get into that afternoon section of the pedagogical theory class she needed. She was already in the night class, but she wanted her nights free to spend more time with Matt: dinners, movies, tennis at the club. She was trying to talk him into ballroom-dance classes, but he was resisting that. What she really wanted to tell him was that they needed dancing classes so they could dance at the wedding, really dance, not just wiggle and bounce around
Molly thought that was trashy, but she didn’t say so. She knew the way to keep her friends was to keep half her thoughts to herself. Like church. Most of her friends went to church. Mostly Baptist, and they were always trying to bring her along. But she got out of it by saying she was Catholic; she had her own faith. Right. They used to be Catholic, which meant her dad could run around all he wanted as long as he confessed, said a few Hail Marys. All that faith in God hadn’t done her mother any good with the breast cancer. No, it was a good doctor and a plastic surgeon who’d saved her from that. Her mother had learned a few things from how the church and a husband could fail you. She went to a women’s support group every Wednesdaynight—an excuse to drink wine and gossip, but it made her mom strong. She’d learned a few things there and kept repeating them to Molly: “Believe in this world, not the next, Molly. Keep your body fit, your mind sharp, and your money invested. If your wits don’t save you, nobody will.” With her mother’s words in mind, she remembered what day it was and hurried down the hall to her room. Molly sat at her computer to log on to the college website to see if the class she wanted had any openings yet.
Down the street, Jesse unhooked the leash from his dog and let him run through the woods alongside the trail. He needed to run. He thought about the girl. Yeah, she’d seen him. And what was with that stopping and bending down to tie her shoes? He let the dog run and sniff and pee on just about every tree in those woods. Dogs did that. Marked turf. He loved that dog, his muscled chest, the way his fur glimmered in the light, loved watching him run through those woods like the wild thing he ought to be.
His cell phone buzzed. His mother. She’d been completely on his ass since he’d stayed at Mike’s that night. He answered. “I’m walking Luke; I’ll be right home. Yes, ma’am,” he said. He clicked off the phone. He’d forgotten to edge the sidewalk after he’d mown the grass. Everyone else in the neighborhood had a lawn service. But oh, no, his parents had him, not a good boy but the bad boy, the one they’d bought on sale and couldn’t take back to the store. He called his dog, and he came running and stood at Jesse’s side while he clipped the leash on. He crouched, patting the dog’s side with firm, loving smacks. He ruffled the dog’s ears, bent close, whispered, “We’ve got a job to do, Luke. Let’s go.”
Molly looked at the clock. Just after 5:00. Perfect timing , she thought. It was the last day for students to pay their tuition; as of 5:00, those who hadn’t paid would be purged. Purged , she thought. It was an ugly word, as if the great computer system vomited out the poor ones who didn’t have the money, whose financial aid hadn’t come. So they were purged from the classes they’d registered in—no money, no class. The world isn’t fair , she thought, and that really did strike her as a sad thing for a moment. It wasn’t fair, but at least now there was a chance she could get into that afternoon section of the pedagogical theory class she needed. She was already in the night class, but she wanted her nights free to spend more time with Matt: dinners, movies, tennis at the club. She was trying to talk him into ballroom-dance classes, but he was resisting that. What she really wanted to tell him was that they needed dancing classes so they could dance at the wedding, really dance, not just wiggle and bounce around
Similar Books
