Brayden, Melissa: How Sweet It Is

She set out for Molly’s house just after four. While she’d never been there before, she knew the neighborhood well enough, so it didn’t take long to locate Molly’s block. The quaint street felt lived in, comfortable, and screamed of backyard barbeques and block parties. She kind of liked it. Along her route, she passed overturned tricycles beneath shady oak trees, sturdy houses with colorful doors, and more “welcome” signs than she thought to count. It was a happy place and it fit Molly to a tee.

Upon arrival, she didn’t knock immediately and instead took a moment to study her task. The dilapidated shutter, while a pretty powder blue, sadly needed more than just a re-hanging, as did its three neighboring counterparts. The finish was cracked on all four and there was evidence of sun bleaching. Not to mention the fact that the hinges were rusty and would need to be replaced entirely.

“So what’s the verdict?”

Jordan turned to see Molly standing on the porch behind her. “I don’t think I have the heart to break it to you.”

Molly sighed. “I can be big about this. Give it to me straight.”

Jordan walked to the nearest window and ran her hand across the wooden shutter. “I think if I just re-hang this one, you’ll be right back here again in a few months.”

“So they have to be replaced entirely?” She sat in defeat on the steps of the porch. “I lied. Not feeling big about this at all. How much is that going to cost, do you think?”

Jordan could sense Molly’s immediate hesitation when money became a question, confirming her suspicions. “You know, I think we could save a few dollars if we just did a little rehab on these guys. Save their little shutter lives. It seems the humane thing to do. What do you think?”

“I think a pardon’s in order. So we can actually do that?” Molly asked in an adorably hopeful voice. “The rehab thing?”

Jordan took the spot next to her on the steps. “We can. Well, I can at least. You can tell me jokes that aren’t exactly funny and I’ll feign amusement at your attempts.”

Molly shot her a look of outrage. “I’ll have you know that I’m incredibly funny and half this town will back me on this.”

“They’re laughing because they like you and you do this thing where you light up on the punch line. Regardless of the bad joke, it’s kind of cute.”

Molly considered this scenario before seeming to reject it entirely. “Uh-uh. I’m funny. You’re jealous. End of story.”

“See? You’re even kind of cute when you’re angry. Well done.”

Molly slugged her hard in the shoulder. “Stop patronizing me.”

“Ow. I’ll definitely try. Color me intimidated.” She rubbed her upper arm.

“Thank you.” She paused and floated back down to sincerity. “But back to the shutters. It sounds like more work than you originally agreed to. I don’t want you to feel obligated to—”

Jordan pointed at her. “Back alley agreement, remember? Don’t you dare renege now. I don’t know how we’d get past it.”

Molly nudged her shoulder playfully with her own. “You’re right. We wouldn’t. But how much work are we talking about?”

“Not as major as you’re probably projecting. I’ll pick up some supplies today and see how far I get before dark. I can always come back tomorrow to finish up if need be.”

Molly nodded. “I guess I should be honored. Once the news that you’re back in town hits the masses, I won’t have you to myself anymore. Everyone loves you, you know. It’s kind of annoying.”

“Nah, I’m pretty boring. No one will pay me much attention.”

“Are you kidding? Attention is one thing you’ll never be without. People notice when you walk in a room, Jordan. You must know that. Then you turn on the charm and they’re gone forever. It’s always been that way.”

“Those were my wild child days. Things are different now. I’m different.”

“If you say so.” They stared out at the street and watched as an elderly woman walked her Yorkshire terrier past the house. “So…are we going to talk about it?”

Jordan squinted. “I think you’re going to have to be more specific.”

“This used to be easier.” Molly turned to her more fully and took a moment to study her, her soft brown eyes full of concern. “How are things really ? And please remember who you’re talking to.”

Jordan pulled her eyes from Molly’s and stared hard at her hands. She could still see right through her and whether Jordan wanted it to be or not, her guard was now officially down. Molly had a way of doing that to her. She broke through all the barriers to just…her. “So things have been a little all over the place. Not so great, actually.”

Molly leaned back on her hands patiently as if she had all the time in the world. “Okay, tell me.”

And she would because that’s what she did with Molly. “The short version of a long story is that I feel a little, what’s the word…lost? God, that sounds so cliché that I can’t believe I just said it. Erase the word lost from this conversation. I guess I just don’t know what I’m doing anymore.” She raised her hands in helpless wonder and let them drop, then sat quietly for a moment thinking how to best explain. “I work day and night because that’s what it takes. Shooting schedules, contracts, location scouting, talent management, and long hours on set. But I’m not shy about putting in the time. I’ve ascended the studio ladder ahead of schedule, which should feel great, but it doesn’t and I don’t know why. I should be reveling.”

“So revel. What’s stopping you?”

She shook her head. “It feels hollow. I have friends that I tolerate, and women…well, let’s just say the revolving door’s had quite a workout, and you know what? I’m too old for that. What exactly is my purpose in life? Because it’s all wearing a little thin.”

Molly grinned in amusement and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “You’re twenty-seven.”

“What?”

“You’re only twenty-seven years old.”

“Exactly. And what do I have to show for it?”

Molly laughed. “A pretty impressive résumé to start with.”

“Yeah, well, the studio has placed me on a temporary leave of absence. Did I forget to mention that particularly flattering part?”

“Okay. Wow. What prompted that?”

Jordan hesitated, not sure she wanted to share what had been a tragically weak moment for her. “They might have taken issue with the fact that I poured a pitcher of ice water over a high profile actor’s head in front of an entire working set.”

Molly covered her mouth, though the smile was hard to hide. “Jordan, you didn’t. You can’t do things like that.” But she was now laughing, which only made Jordan laugh too.

“Listen, that guy had it coming. He’d been hitting on me since day one of the shoot, and no matter what I did or said, politely I might add, he wasn’t getting the message. It was time he learned to keep his damn hands to himself.”

“And you thought the ice water would—”

“Make it a bit more clear. Trust me, it did.”

Molly shook her head, trying to regain composure. “You could have gone to movie jail.”

“I still might.”

“Will this hurt your career long-term?”

Jordan considered this. “Maybe. I don’t know. It’ll definitely be hot gossip for a few weeks.” She stood, strolled to the suicidal shutter, and turned back. “If I apologize profusely and fall on my sword, that kind of thing, I should be able to get back in the studio’s good graces. I would just have to, you know, find the motivation to actually do that and I’ll be honest, it’s eluding me in this moment.”

Molly shook her head in amazement. “Only you, Jordan, only you.”