Note: This story is back up and running. I've noticed that there have been some people who have added this story as their favorite, and I thank you for that. I really did not like the character development in Molly. She was becoming harder for me to like as a protagonist. I also did not like the way I introduced the story. So this is going to be the new way that I introduced it. If you like it please comment on what you think about it. It helps me to know what you like and what you think I should change. I do try to respond to everyone's comments if I can but if I miss yours I am very sorry. Anyway I hope you enjoy this. If you've read this story you will notice not much has changed, mostly the beginning and some parts in the middle. Thanks for reading and enjoy!
If there was such a thing as an organized pack rat, Molly's mother certainly qualified for such a title. Molly eyes scanned the overly organized attic in awe. It was unlike any other attic; each box was carefully stacked. labeled, and alphabetically arranged. Everything was pristine and in straight lines, like everything else in her mother's life. Her mother took comfort in organization, as a result much of Molly's life had always been routine and organized. Molly had inherited some of her mother's orderliness, but even Molly would not have gone to the extremes her mother had in the attic. From the lack of cobwebs and dust, it was evident it was also cleaned on a regular basis.
In the ten years since Molly and her mother had moved in with her stepfather Harrison, Molly had never ventured up to the attic. But this year, Harrison had taken her mother on a cruise over New Years. Molly's mother, who simply could not stand the idea of the Christmas decorations being up past the New Year, had asked her to take them down and put them away in the attic. Molly had come to simply put the decorations away, but then suddenly saw all the boxes labeled with her name. They had even been organized by year. Curiosity got the better of Molly and she wanted to know what her mother had deemed too important to throw away. She delved into the boxes.
Molly stood up to stretch her sore muscles, her legs sore after sitting indian style for most of the afternoon. She had been traveling through time and recalling her childhood as she looked through paintings, school papers, and report cards. A small sliver of sunlight was beaming through the attic window, it had changed position several times since Molly had started looking through the boxes. Her gaze followed the beam to a box that was simply labeled "Jack." Her heart fluttered in her chest, and an old pain that she had long ago buried started bubbling to the surface. Jack was her father's name.
She had not spoken, nor heard from her father since she and her mother had left Castanet Island twelve years earlier. Molly could almost remember every detail in her mind of that mild summer day when she had last seen him. After a while she had tucked that memory safely into the recesses of her mind, where it could no longer make her cry; like so many other things Molly had tucked away. She felt the tightening in her chest as she remembered how every day for six months she had anxiously waited while her mother would get the mail, for her father's promised letters. Every day her mother would come into the house and sadly shake her head saying "No honey, nothing today. I am sorry." Molly had eventually given up on any change of ever hearing from her father. Life had continued as usual. Molly had learned how to endure the pain, and eventually buried it along with the memories of her life on the farm. As she grew Molly had learned to protect herself. She had learned to keep people compartmentalized in her mind, and keep them at a safe distance. It was the reason that Molly had not cried since she was eleven years old. It was also the reason why she had never made a real connection with another human being.
Looking the box that had her father's name on it caused a range of emotions that Molly was unaccustomed to dealing with, flow through her. A warm heat rushed to her face as she slowly walked over to the offending box. As much as her mother detested even the mention of Molly's biological father, she wondered why the box even existed. Once again curiosity took over and Molly could not resist finding out what her mother had thought was important enough to keep around from her life with Molly's father. She carried the large box to the center of the attic, and with trembling fingers she tentatively lifted the lid. She was unsure of what she expected, but the contents in the box surprised her. Laying on the top was a large manilla envelope that was addressed to her. It was postmarked from three years ago. The envelope had been opened. She carefully drew the documents out. The first letter had a stationary heading saying "Attorney Gill Hamilton, Castanet Island." The next paper caused all of neat little boxes in which Molly safely tucked her emotions in, to tumble down; it simply said "Last Will and Testament of Jack Hardin." She started trembling; all of the pain she had buried for the past twelve years of her life came rushing back. A sharp physical pain gripped her chest, and she collapsed to the ground in tears.
Molly sat at the table waiting for her mother and Harrison to walk through the door. She had cried all the tears she was willing to cry. Directly in front of her was her father's will; stating that he had left her the family farm, and his dying wish was for his daughter to take it over. Each of the boxes labeled by year were lined up on the table like little soldiers standing in wait for the battle that was about to ensue. The boxes contained all the letters and cards her father had sent over the past twelve years, that her mother had hidden from her. Molly sat with her legs crossed, patiently waiting.
She heard the key turning, and she closed her eyes taking a deep breath. The first person she saw was Harrison with all the luggage, her mother followed shortly after looking as if she'd just stepped off a runway, instead of riding an airplane for hours.
"Hello Moll!" Harrison called out. He came forward to give Molly a hug, she pulled away, looking directly at her mother, who was eying the boxes sitting on the kitchen table.
"Why did you hide this from me?" Molly asked. She picked up the will and held it up. Harrison's eyes moved to the paper that Molly was holding, she heard his slight intake of breath.
"How did you find that?" her mother asked, her voice was shaky. The composure that her mother always had was gone.
"I went into the attic to put away the decorations, and I found the box labeled 'Jack.' How could you hide this from me all these years?" Molly asked the emotion in her voice was thick, and she struggled to stay calm.
"You had no right to go through that..."
"It's my stuff! They are letters to me! You had no right to keep this from me!" Molly shouted, no longer able to control the anger she felt towards her mother.
"Now Molly, I think your mother had the best..."
"This doesn't concern you!" Molly spat out, interrupting Harrison.
"Molly! Do not speak with your father that way!" her mother chided.
"He's not my father," Molly said calmly, once again trying to control the onslaught of emotions tearing at her soul. "My father is apparently dead." Molly walked up to her mother and grabbed her shoulders. "Why did you hide this from me?" Her mother's gaze dropped to the floor, Molly could see the struggle on her face. For the first time since they'd let Castanet her mother had tears in her eyes.
"I was trying to protect you Molly," her mother whispered. "Your father is... was not the most reliable man. I just did not want you to get hurt."
"Not the most reliable man?" Molly asked incredulously. "He wrote me consistently over all these years, even though there was never a response back. I've read them all. You had no right to keep this from me."
"Molly I just wanted to protect you."
"Were you trying to protect me? Or were you trying to protect yourself?" Molly asked.
"Molly I think that's enough," Harrison interjected. Molly backed away from her mother and stared alternately at Harrison then back to her mother. The silence hung between the three of them like nooses, waiting to be pulled.
"I'm going to Castanet," Molly said finally shattering the delicate threads of her mother's grip on her emotions. Her mother collapsed into a chair and started sobbing
"D-don't go!" Her mother wailed in between sobs. Molly stepped towards her mother and placed a hand on her shoulder.
"I have to," Molly stated with finality.