"She's such a slut." It was the one part of the customer's conversation Molly tuned into as she bagged their items.
The two middle aged women probably knew she could hear them but simply didn't care. Molly sighed and rung up their total, plastering a fake smile on her face.
"That'll be $58.24." She said graciously. She liked her job at Gregor's Grocers and didn't think smacking a bitch would keep it.
The blonde lady rolled her eyes and handed over the cash quickly, as if touching her would mean catching a disease.
Molly grabbed the change for the $60 and dropped it into the awaiting hand and watched as the women left, clearly still gossiping about her as they went.
Molly took a sip of her bottled water and tried to contain her shame and fury at hearing those words. She hadn't meant to do what she did. But the reminders were constant in this shitty town.
A town she'd gladly leave in the rear view as soon as she'd worked up enough money.
The rest of her shift went the same, slow, boring, and with constant titters from whatever soccer moms swanned around the store in their active wear.
Charming must be a real boring place if this was the only amusement these bitches could find.
"Molly, can I speak with you in my office please?" Greg, the manager, popped up by her till as Martha took over. She clearly held the same opinions as the rest of the town and scowled as Molly passed her the key.
"Sure Greg." She smiled and followed him back to the little office.
Molly had known Greg a long time, he'd been a friend of her parents and when her mother passed away when she was 12 he and his wife came over often with their kids to help out her father. Fat lot of good it did in the long run, he still ended up becoming an alcoholic.
Greg gestured to the chair opposite his desk and settled himself in his office chair.
"What's up?" She asked quietly, hoping nothing had been wrong with the till count last night.
"Look, this isn't an easy decision Molly, but I'm going to have to let you go."
Molly jumped at the revelation, completely taken aback with news. "Why? What did I do? If it was about count last night I got distracted and-"
He held up a hand. "-count was fine last night. It's not that. It's just... well... I've had too many complaints for customers saying they don't want to shop here if you're serving. I'm real sorry sweetheart."
Tears burned in Molly's eyes and she rose to her feet. "Don't call me sweetheart, Greg. Not if you're going to listen to town gossip over me." She moved around the chair towards the door.
"Look, Moll, I'm giving you a month's wages and I'll give you a glowing reference for wherever but I just can't take the risk with business. I am sorry." He grabbed an envelope off his desk and tried passing it to her as she moved to the next room to grab her purse and keys.
"I don't want your guilt money." She huffed.
"It's not guilt money. I just want to make sure you'll be set up for a bit longer."
"Whatever helps you sleep at night." She snatched the envelope from his hand and stormed through the store to the exit. "Hope you're happy you shallow bitches!" She hollered at the queue of gossips hanging around the store and flipped the bird as she marched out the door.
xxx xxx
Molly had used a good chunk of Greg's money to buy half the liquor store on her way back the afternoon after she was sacked. She knew it probably wasn't healthy after everything she'd seen her father go through, then went through herself. But after 6 months sober she threw caution to the wind and just drowned her sorrows anyway.
It had been a couple of days and she hadn't left the house. The only thing she'd really eaten was a pizza she'd had delivered the day before and picked at since. She wallowed in her pity as she flicked through the Netflix selection.
At nearly 23 she had no education, no qualifications, no family, one criminal charge, and now no job. The only thing she had going for her was the fact her small 2 bed home was paid off before her father passed, and the trickle of money every month from her older brother's army pension. It was minuscule to say the least but at least it kept the electricity going.
Molly settled on some bullshit preteen comedy and took another healthy swig from the tequila bottle on the coffee table and threw the crust from her pizza at main character's stupidly happy face. It missed, by a mile, man how drunk am I, and hit her brother's photo frame on the side table, knocking it over.
Molly moaned and dragged herself towards it and set it right, staring into her older brother's face, all cheesy grin and pride in his army portrait. It had been taken the day he'd graduated, or whatever, from basic training. 3 months before he was sent to Iraq for the first time. He'd only been back a handful of times in the years since. Long enough to see their father disappear into an alcohol induced depressive coma like state. He hadn't made it back to the funeral.
Then last year he died too, leaving Molly all alone in their stupid family home.
She was broken from her thoughts by the sound of a motorbike pulling into her drive and she rolled her eyes before going over to the door to welcome her weekly visitor.
"Jackson Teller." She said by way of greeting as he stomped up to the door, raising an eyebrow at her shambled appearance. "Didn't realise it was Saturday morning already."
"So I see." He commented as he followed her in taking in the mess of the house before him. It was usually well ordered and smelt like cleaning products. Now it was strewn with liquor bottles and dirty clothes and smelt like old pizza, stale smoke, and weed.
"Went by the shop to see you. When I asked Martha where you were she just shrugged and said 'dunno'." Jax, or sometimes Tara, would come by and check on her every week. Usually at the grocery store but occasionally to the house when they had a free moment to bring Abel round.
Molly scoffed. "Bet that's all she said."
"What's going on? What happened to the sober life?"
"Greg let me go. So I'm having a pity party." She plopped back down on the sofa and resumed swigging from the tequila bottle.
"Let you go? Why?" Jax was confused.
"Didn't you know? Charming's mommy brigade doesn't want to buy their weekly shop from the local whore."
Jax pinched the bridge of his nose, he figured something like this would happen eventually. The Hale family's way of protecting their own.
"Right. Want me to talk to him?"
"Please. He's known me his whole life and still fired me. Doubt there's much else you could say to change his mind."
"I have my ways." He plopped down in the recliner.
Molly flicked her eyes to him as he brushed some ash off the leather arm of the seat before making himself comfortable.
"Won't matter. It was for the sake of his business." She sat the bottle back down. "Don't really blame him anyway."
They sat in silence for a moment as the tv chattered away.
"So what you gunna do for cash then?"
Molly laughed humourlessly. "Play to my strengths. Sure I can find a corner in Lodi to haunt."
"Don't be bitchy Molly. Doesn't suit you."
"Well I don't really have many other options Jax. Didn't exactly have the chance to go to college and get a high flying career." Nope. Because she'd spent her college years taking care of her raging alcoholic of a father.
Jax considered his options for a moment before standing. "Go clean yourself up. You're coming with me."
"Where?" Molly asked, indignant at the order.
"TM. We got shit you can do."
"Didn't realise crow eaters got paid." She snarked.
Jax rolled his eyes, his patience wearing thin. "They don't. They do it for the love of leather. But you can work in TM. Sure Gemma's got shit you can deal with."
"I don't want charity Jax. I appreciate it but I'll figure it out."
"It's not charity."
"It is when you're doing it on behalf of a dead friend."
Jax swore lengthily before standing by the door. "You got 5 minutes. Hurry it up."
Molly kicked a can across the floor and stood. It was obvious she wouldn't be getting out of this so she decided to just do it the easy way.
"Fine."
