The Christmas Wedding Ring. Susan Mallery
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He laid the ring in the palm of her hand. Molly closed her fingers around it and stared at him.
“Merry Christmas, kid,” he said, then settled onto his motorcycle.
Molly stood there and watched him drive off. It didn’t matter that Dylan had bought the ring for Janet, that he’d actually wanted to marry her sister. It really didn’t matter that Janet had been stupid enough to break up with him before he could propose. Molly had the ring now. As soon as she was finished growing up, she was going to find him and go away with him. She was going to make him fall in love with her and they were going to live happily ever after. She had his promise. A wedding ring promise.
December 5th, fourteen years later.
“It’s easier in the movies,” Molly said as she leaned against the door frame and surveyed the mess that was her bedroom. In the movies or on television, when a character decided to escape from her life by packing up and leaving everything behind, there was an upswell of music, then the scene changed and she was on the road, or the plane or whatever. In real life, someone had to do the packing.
“As no one else seems to be volunteering, I guess that someone is me,” Molly murmured.
She looked at the open suitcase on her bed, at the piles of clothing scattered around. There was a notepad on her dresser that listed the things she had to do before she could go. Stop the paper and the mail, check that her bills were paid. At least she didn’t have a pet to worry about.
There was also the small issue of deciding where she wanted to go. Running away would be easier if she had a destination in mind. But right now, all she wanted was to get away—to leave and never come back. Unfortunately, that wasn’t an option.
She crossed to the bed and picked up a sweater. It was early December in Southern California, which meant warm, sunny days and cool nights. She tossed the sweater into the suitcase. Jeans were necessary, but did she need a dress? A dress or even a skirt and blouse meant uncomfortable shoes, which were more than she wanted to deal with. Then there was the whole issue of the right purse and—
Molly swore under her breath. “None of this is important,” she told herself. “Just go.” She could feel the tears forming, tears that she’d promised herself she wouldn’t be crying again. It wasn’t supposed to keep hurting, but it did. If only she could forget. If only there were something she could do to fall asleep for the next couple of weeks until everything had been resolved.
She shook her head. It was going to take more than two weeks, she reminded herself. It could take months. So a year from now she would be fine, right?
She didn’t have the answer. No one did. She sucked in a deep breath. She was strong and tough and she wasn’t going to let the situation get her down. After squaring her shoulders, she crossed to her dresser and tugged out her lingerie drawer. She then returned to the bed and dumped the entire contents into her suitcase. If she couldn’t decide what to take, she would take everything. That made life simpler.
She dropped the empty drawer onto the carpet and began quickly sorting through panties and bras. As she picked up a plain cotton sports bra, one of several she’d purchased recently, something caught her eye. A glint of light...a flash.
Molly fished around in the tangle of elastic and lace. As she pushed aside garments, the small object fell into a corner of the suitcase. She grabbed it and pulled it out.
For the first time in ten days, Molly smiled. She rubbed her thumb over the gold ring. Dylan’s ring—the one he’d meant for her sister but had instead given her. It had been forever. Years. She sank onto the mattress. Whatever had happened to him? He’d ridden out of her life and disappeared, just like one of those western heroes she loved in the movies. Only instead of a trusty horse, Dylan had been astride his motorcycle.
That Christmas had been the loneliest of her life. Janet had been away on her honeymoon, leaving Molly alone with their parents, who had always been distant at best. She’d told Dylan that no one should be alone at Christmas, but she learned that year that you could be painfully lonely even when you weren’t by yourself.
She wondered where he was today. Did he still possess the same magic? There was a time when being close to Dylan had been enough to make her world right. She’d thought he was the most handsome, perfect male on the planet. She remembered how unattractive she’d been then, with her bad skin and braces, and winced. But Dylan had always had time for her. He’d made her feel special, and she would never forget him.
She slid the ring onto the third finger of her right hand. No doubt he was still breaking hearts at an alarming rate. Or maybe he’d grown up, like the rest of them, and was just some middle-aged guy with a wife, two kids and a mortgage. She tried to picture him driving a sensible sedan, but her imagination failed her. In her mind, Dylan would always be young and handsome, a dangerous rebel in black leather and boots.
Leaving the ring in place on her finger, she returned to her packing. She was folding a sensible long-sleeved cotton shirt when the phone rang. She knew who it was before she answered.
“I’m fine,” she said as she picked up the receiver and cradled it between her shoulder and her neck.
“I could have been a salesperson,” Janet said. “Then you would have felt really foolish.”
“Nope, there was a definite ‘Janet’ sound to the ring. I knew it was you.” She tossed the shirt into the suitcase, then sank onto the floor. “Seriously, I’m fine.”
Janet sighed. The sound carried clearly down the length of the state. Janet and her husband, Thomas, lived in northern California, in Mill Valley, near San Francisco. “I don’t believe you, Molly. And I’m worried. I know you tell me not to be, but I can’t help it. You’re my sister and I love you.”
Molly pulled her knees to her chest. “I appreciate that and I love you, too. I couldn’t have gotten through this without you. But you’ve gotta trust me. I’m doing okay.” It was a small lie that shouldn’t count at all.
“I considered coming down and spending a week or so with you. Until...you know.”
Molly thought about Janet staying in her small condo and fussing over her. Actually, the idea had merit. She and her sister hadn’t gotten along while they were growing up—a situation, they’d come to realize, that had been encouraged by their mother. But once Janet had married and moved away, the sisters had discovered they had more in common than they’d first thought and over the past ten years or so they’d developed a close, loving bond.
“As appealing as that sounds,” Molly said, “you’ve got three kids and I know my nieces would never forgive me if I took their mom away from them, especially over the holidays. And to be completely honest, you miss Thomas when you’re not with him. By day three, you’re a whining mass of helpless jelly. You’d get on my nerves.”
Molly said it lightly, partially because it was true and partially because she was afraid she and Janet would do nothing but cry for the week. She needed a distraction more than she needed sympathy.
“Besides,” she added, “I’m going away.”
“You’re right about the girls missing me, and how I get when I’m not with Thomas. Getting away is a good idea. Come see us. You know we’d love to have you. We missed you over Thanksgiving.”
“I want to,” Molly said slowly. Oh, how she wanted to. Her sister and brother-in-law would pamper her, and the girls would help her forget. Family was healing. But... “I need a complete change of scene. I haven’t decided where I’m going, but I’ll let you know when I get there.”
“I don’t know whether I should push you into coming here or let you do what you want.”
“You bossed me around enough when we were kids, so I think you should give me a break now. Besides, I’ll be there for your anniversary