Almost a Family

Chapter Seven

They went back to Jason's house for hot chocolate, at Sara's request.

After that kiss, all Molly wanted to do was disappear and brood, but Sara was demanding treats, and Molly knew the rest of the day would be a disaster of pouting niece if they didn't give in. Hopefully, there'd be no time to talk. Molly simply wasn't prepared. How could they possibly work things out when she didn't even understand her own feelings?

Jason made cocoa from scratch while Molly watched him from across the room. He frothed the milk with a wire whisk while Sara romped with Bubbles and Molly put out a plate of store-bought cookies. In some ways Jason was unpredictable, but in others...

Oh, in others. The way he kissed hadn't changed at all. He had a style, a taste that was simply Jason, one she was helpless to resist. One that was as natural to her as the sunrise each day. As he brought the steaming mugs to the table, topped with fluffy white marshmallows, she swallowed hard to stop remembering. To stop wanting him again.

"I only filled yours half, muffin," he explained, putting the cup before Sara. "But you can have more if you want it."

Sara happily munched on oatmeal raisin and sipped her cocoa, using a finger to dab at the white blobs on the top. Silence fell, heavy and awkward, until Sara finished her snack and headed for the living room and television, clearly subdued after her busy afternoon.

"Mol..."

She stopped him with a look as she cleared mugs off the table. "Not now. I can't talk about this now."

"Then when? Because we should talk about what happened. Today and the other day, too."

She aimed a furtive, frustrated glare in his direction. "Nothing happened, okay? Nothing that can happen again."

"We can't pretend it didn't happen, Mol."

"Yes, we can!" She turned her back to him, rinsed the mugs and put them in his dishwasher. She wondered how his voice could sound so calm and rational when everything was churning up inside of her. "We can because it changes nothing!"

"Aunt Molly!" The shout came from the living room followed by a tiny giggle. "You were pretty!"

She met Jason's bland stare and he shrugged, so she followed him into the living room.

Sara was in the middle of the sofa, her chubby hands holding a white-covered photo album in her lap. "Look." She pointed, obviously enthused. "Aunt Molly's pretty dress. And you have funny hair, Uncle Jason!"

Her angelic face looked up, having fun with an album Molly never even knew existed. One that Molly would rather not look at, but she didn't have the heart to take it away from Sara, not when the girl was having so much fun with it. She couldn't expect a child to understand what she herself could not.

They sat down, one on either side of Sara, with a book that was a visual diary of their years together. The picture she was pointing to was their prom. Jason in his black tuxedo and she in a long blue gown, a corsage of white roses adorning her left wrist. Pictures of the two of them and friends they'd long since lost touch with. Other pictures from their final year of high school, when he'd lived in rugby shirts and jeans, and she'd had her hair permed into a blonde, unruly mass. There was one of them at a school dance, her arms around his neck and his resting on her waist as they smiled for the camera. Another of them at the school Christmas drive for the local food bank. At a skating party with their group of friends. Sara asked what each one was and Jason dutifully explained while Molly swallowed back sadness as the memories trickled in, warm and painful.

Jason's mind drifted back as he touched a picture with his finger. This one, their hair damp and both of them dressed in oversized sweatshirts after a beach party and bonfire at the provincial park. That night had been the first night they'd made love after a year of dating. He'd known with all the wisdom of his eighteen years that he loved her, and that night, in his two-man tent, they'd gone all the way. It had been better than he'd expected. His nervousness had melted away the moment he'd held her warm, soft body in his arms and kissed her. He'd been her first. And she his. They'd learned all that they knew together.