Page 31 of Restless
“It’s about death.”
“Nuh-uh! It’s about sleeping and waking up with a new soul.”
CJ scowled at her. Before he spoke, the door opened.
“Hey, boy,” Dad said, stepping aside so CJ could enter. “I thought I heard you.”
“Hi, Mr. Outlaw,” Molly whispered, tiptoeing into the room like the fucking Grinch stealing toys in Whoville.
“What the fuck you doin’, Molly?”
“Being stealthy,” she murmured. “I don’t want to wake Mrs. Outlaw.”
Dad glared at CJ.
“Hi, Molly,” Mom greeted, sounding more lucid than she had in days.
“Mrs. Outlaw!” Molly squealed, rushing to Mom and throwing her arms around her.
“Back the fuck up,” Dad ordered, stomping to Molly and dragging her away from Mom.
CJ stared at his mother. She still had an IV with bags of medicine hanging from the pole, but that sickly pallor didn’t color her skin and her two plaits were gone. Her hair was in a ponytail.
“Mom?”
She smiled at him. “Hey, potato.”
“Is he French fries or boiled?” Molly asked.
Mom giggled. “He’s everything, Molly. He had the chubbiest cheeks as a baby.”
“Like a butter turkey?”
“A Butterball.”
“Oh. So, all butter turkeys are boys?”
“Ummm, well—”
“Nope, ain’t doin’ this shit,” Dad proclaimed. “You ain’t usin’ all your fuckin’ energy explainin’ shit and you ain’t usin’ allmyfuckin’ energy makin’ me listen. Molly, sit the fuck down and shut the fuck up.”
“Christopher,” Mom said.
The wind taken out of her sails, Molly trudged to the window seat and sat. Bowing her head allowed her hair to partially hide her features.
Dad scrubbed a hand over his face. “Molly, lemme take you to the cafeteria.”
She sniffled. “Are you going to be mean to me?”
“No, baby,” Dad said on a sigh. “Ain’t meanin’ to be, but you ain’t knowin’ when to shut the fuck up and Megan still not all well.”
Molly swiped at her cheeks. “I’ll go if you answer one question.”
“You hungry or not?” Dad demanded.
“It’s the same question I texted CJ last night.”
Oh, goddamn. “Uh, Mo—”
