“The room was a triangle. You couldn’t fit any furniture in it.”
Molly laughed. Her mom laughed, too, and her cheeks would turn pink and her eyes would sparkle. David would look at her, and Molly saw that look—the way men in movies look at women when they’re falling in love. She didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing. On one hand, her mom deserved to be happy. On the other, Molly was afraid that everything would change, that this strange new world would collapse as suddenly as it had appeared.
But for now, nothing collapsed. Weeks passed, then a month, then two. Spring arrived, the snow melted, and the first flowers appeared in the yard. Molly started at a new school, one that wasn’t as gray and boring as her old one. This one had after-school clubs, and the teacher didn’t say “that’s not on the curriculum” when Molly asked about something interesting. Everything was good. Too good, as it turned out.
One evening in April, David came over, and he wasn’t alone. He was with a woman, but not Liz—someone else. She was tall and dark-haired, with a face so beautiful it seemed unreal. Like a mask.
“This is Kira,” David said, and his voice was strange, tense. “My fiancée.”
Molly saw her mom’s face change. Just for a second, then she smiled and said, “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” but Molly saw the truth. She saw it and couldn’t do anything about it. Kira surveyed the apartment with the kind of look you give something unpleasant but not fatal, like a fly in your soup.
“Charming,” she said. One word, but it was loaded with so much meaning that Molly disliked her instantly.
“David told me about your daughter. The one who saved him.” She looked at Molly, and her eyes were empty—no warmth, no interest, not even real dislike. Just a void. “A very brave thing for such a little girl to do.”
“She’ll be eight soon,” Vera said, her tone the same protective one she’d used with David during their first meeting.
“Right, of course.” Kira turned away as if she’d lost interest. “David, we need to go. Remember, we have dinner with the Crawfords?”
“Yes, in a minute. Vera, I wanted to say…” David was clearly uncomfortable. “The wedding is next month. We’d be happy if you could come. And Molly, of course.”
“Thank you for the invitation,” Vera said, her voice as smooth and cold as ice. The same ice where it had all begun.
After they left, Vera stood by the window for a long time. Molly went over and took her hand.
“Mom?”
“What is it, sweetie?”
“Are you sad?”
“No. Why would you think that?”
“You always stand by the window and look at the trees when you’re sad.”
Vera sighed.
“Maybe a little. But it’ll pass.”
“Do you love him?” The question slipped out before Molly could stop it.
Vera looked at her, a long, careful look, as if deciding what to say.
“I don’t know,” she answered finally. “Maybe. But it doesn’t matter. He has a fiancée, and you and I have each other. That’s enough.”
Molly nodded, though she wasn’t sure she understood. She was seven, almost eight, and love seemed like something from books and movies—beautiful, but distant. But she saw her mom’s eyes and knew it wasn’t that simple.
The wedding was a month later, in May, when everything was in bloom. At first, Vera said they wouldn’t go, but then she changed her mind.
“You can’t hide from life,” she explained to Molly. “He did a lot for us. It would be rude not to show up.”
Vera bought a new dress. She resisted spending the money for a long time, but Molly insisted.
“You have to be the most beautiful one there.”
“It’s David’s wedding, sweetie. The bride is supposed to be the most beautiful.”
“The bride is mean. And you’re kind. Kind people should be more beautiful.”
Vera laughed but bought the dress anyway: a floor-length blue gown with an open back. When she put it on, Molly stared. Her mom looked like a princess from a fairy tale. A sad princess, on her way to someone else’s celebration.
The wedding was at a country club, a huge place with columns and a fountain out front. Molly had never seen anything like it. There were flowers everywhere, music drifted down from somewhere above, and waiters in white shirts carried trays of champagne glasses. There were so many guests: women in gowns, men in suits, all beautiful, all smiling. Vera held Molly’s hand tightly, as if afraid of losing her in the crowd.
“Vera!” David appeared out of nowhere, and Molly barely recognized him. In a black tuxedo with a flower in his lapel, he looked like he’d stepped out of a magazine. But his eyes were the same—warm, with laugh lines at the corners. “You came. I’m so glad.”
“Congratulations,” Vera said. Her voice was almost normal. Almost.
“Thank you. You… you look stunning.”
He was looking at her in a way a groom shouldn’t look at another woman on his wedding day. Molly understood that, even at almost eight. Vera understood it, too. She was the first to look away.
“Where’s the bride? I’d like to congratulate her.”
“Kira… she’s over there,” David gestured vaguely. “With some guests. Come on, I’ll introduce you.”
They walked across the hall, and Molly could feel people watching them. Not unkindly, but with curiosity: who were these people, and why was the groom personally escorting them? Kira was standing in the center of a group, and her white dress was so breathtaking that Molly forgot to breathe. Lace, pearls, a long train—it was a true fairy tale. But the bride’s face was the same as always: beautiful and empty.
“Darling, you remember Vera? And her daughter, Molly.”
“Of course.” Kira smiled, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes. “The little girl who saved my fiancé from catching a cold.”
“From dying,” Vera said quietly, a new edge to her voice.
“What?”
“She saved him from dying. Not from a cold. He would have drowned if it wasn’t for her.”
Kira blinked, the first crack in her perfect mask.
“Oh, right. Of course. I was just… joking.”
“Funny joke,” Molly said. She knew she shouldn’t talk to adults like that, but she didn’t care.
Kira looked down at her, literally, because she was very tall.
“Quite the personality… Takes after her mother, I imagine.”
“Thank you,” Vera replied, and it didn’t sound like gratitude at all.
David stood beside them, clearly at a loss for what to do. The situation was growing tense, and he could feel it, but he couldn’t find the words to defuse it. A waiter with a tray of champagne saved them.
“Champagne, ladies?”
Everyone took a glass, they toasted the happy couple, and the tension seemed to dissolve on its own. But Molly saw the way Kira looked at her mother: with the cold calculation of someone sizing up a rival. And her mother saw it, too.
The rest of the evening was strange. Vera smiled, talked to a few people, even danced once with an older man who turned out to be David’s business partner. But Molly could tell she wasn’t really there. It was as if her body was at the wedding, but her mind was somewhere far away. David came over to their table a few times, asking if everything was all right, if they needed anything. And each time, Kira would appear from nowhere and lead him away, her hand possessively on his arm.
“Mom, can we go home?”
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