Page 34 of Moonlit Kisses

Simone raises one eyebrow and one side of her mouth tips up slightly. “Well, you’ve managed to get more out of her than anyone else has.”

I pull my head and shoulders back. “What? Really? I felt like I had failed. And then I got busy in the kitchen and I didn’t get the chance to check back in with her after her shower.”

Simone steps forward, placing her hand on mine and giving it a squeeze. “You did well. Never feel that you’ve failed. You’re here helping us help them. That’s incredible, Molly.” She gives my hand another squeeze before letting go. “Now go home. You’ve earned a good night’s rest.”

We all say our goodbyes and I promise to return next Tuesday.

I walk through my front door and head straight for the bathroom to take a quick shower, then drop into bed. I’m exhausted. After spending the day looking after the single parents and their kids, then tonight atShelter, I’m dead on my feet. I glance across at the photo of Mom, Jack, and E I keep on my nightstand.

Reaching out, I pull it closer to me. I trace my finger over their faces and whisper, “I think I’m gonna be okay.”

Their image becomes blurry, and I let the tears fall. They slide down the side of my face, landing in my hair. “I’ve met some genuinely good people. I’m pretty sure I made the right choice coming here, Mom. It’s such a gorgeous city. You were lucky to grow up here. Thank you for sharing all of your stories with me. After all, they’re what led me to my new life.”

CHAPTER16

–molly–

Max has been actingstrange since Tuesday morning, almost like he’s trying to avoid me. Whenever I speak with him, he’s polite but short in his responses, then he makes an excuse to get away from me. I’m not sure what I’ve done to upset him, but I really need to speak with him about my hot water. The stupid switch keeps turning off at the most inopportune times and I’m hoping he’ll be happy to get an electrician to check it out. This morning it turned off while I was halfway through my shower, my hair lathered in shampoo. The freezing water forced me out of the shower before I had finished washing my hair. It was easy enough to flick the switch back on, but still, I think it needs to be fixed.

The only problem is that I don’t want to seem like I’m ungrateful for a safe place to live. The apartment is amazing and I’m thankful that he’s allowing me to live here. I don’t want to be a pain in the ass and make things difficult. He might decide it’s easier to kick me out and leave the place empty, like it was before I moved in.

Making my way downstairs, I find the office empty, but the scent of coffee lingers. He must have made himself a coffee a few moments ago. I do the same and then make my way out to the workshop to say good morning, hoping he’s returned to his usual friendly self. I don’t think I can handle him being aloof toward me any longer. It’s been really uncomfortable. I hope he hasn’t changed his mind about me working and living here.

Only one way to find out. “Morning.” I keep my voice as upbeat as I can.

Without looking up from whatever he’s doing in the trunk of the Sprint, he responds. “Morning.”

Moving next to him, I try to peer around his body to see what he’s doing, but I can’t. “I thought you’d finished working on this car. What are you doing?”

He glances up at me. “Martin’s bringing his wife in this afternoon to look at her. I’m making sure all the wiring for the rear lights works properly.”

“Oh, do you think he’ll buy the car today?”

He stands to his full height, picking his coffee up from the floor to take a drink. He shrugs. “Maybe. He was pretty keen, but I guess it’s important to him that his wife agrees. It’s an expensive car, considering it won’t be his everyday drive.”

“If he buys it, will you buy another wreck straight away, or will you have a break in between?” I take a sip of my coffee.

“Depends if another car catches my attention straight away. I’ve actually got my eye on a nineteen thirty-eight Ford pickup truck, so we’ll see.” He shrugs one shoulder and takes another sip of his coffee.

“Well, I hope Martin takes the Sprint off your hands so you can get the truck. I love the shape of those pickups.” The lines are amazing on the vintage trucks, not like the models today. All square and bulky.

Max raises his eyebrows at me. “You know what they look like?”

“Yeah, my stepdad used to always be looking at the older cars. Muscle cars and pickups were his favorites. He was the one who taught me and my younger brother how to draw.”

A smile forms at the memory of us sitting on our front porch in the trailer park and drawing our neighbor’s truck. I’m pretty sure it was a late nineteen thirties pickup, but it was in terrible shape. It always surprised me whenever it started. I chuckle at the memory of the time it backfired while we were drawing it. Ethan nearly pooped his pants.

“What’s brought those dimples to life?” Max asks with a small smile of his own.

“Just remembering something funny. Our neighbor had a really run-down pickup. One day, we were sitting on our front porch practicing our drawing skills when the old guy came out and climbed in. When he started it up, it backfired and scared my little brother. I think he was about five at the time. I’ve never seen him bolt inside so fast.” Another chuckle escapes.

Max chuckles too. “Sounds like the engine was running too rich.” I look at him in confusion. “It happens when there’s too much fuel and not enough air.”

“Oh, right.” I take another sip of my coffee to hide my smile. I don’t think he realizes he’s actually looking at me as we have a conversation. The first we’ve had since he turned up at the workshop on Tuesday morning. I relax a little, feeling like we’re back on even ground.

Remembering the sketch I’ve framed of the Sprint, I hold up my finger and take off back to the office to grab it. I haven’t had a chance to show Max because he’s been so distant. Jogging back, I hold the frame with the sketch facing me, hiding my surprise for him. I can’t hold in my excitement. I hope he likes it. I stop next to him and make a big fuss about turning the frame around.

He chuckles until his eyes land on the framed drawing. The car looked great before, but framed with glass over the top, it looks really professional. He steps forward, studying it closely and I hold my breath, waiting for him to share his thoughts. I don’t need to wait for his words, because his expression shows everything he’s thinking. He glances between me and the sketch. “Molly.” His eyes drop back to the sketch, before rising to meet mine. “It’s incredible.” He holds his hand out toward the frame. “Do you mind?”

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