Chapter Four

I guess it would be an understatement to say that I'm stubborn. I've become more stubborn over the years, I suppose. And it's not about to change anytime soon.

I had milled over Jack's words from when he called me the other day and decided it was about time I start doing something with my life. The royalties weren't going to last forever, and those were precisely what I had been living on for the past few years. Actually, I suppose that technically I could live off the royalties, but… it was time to face reality. My life was going nowhere. Not to say I was suicidal, or anything. The thought passed through my mind on occasion… that I could "join Rick" in the "spirit world"… something ridiculous like that. But I couldn't. I don't believe in that stuff. I can't believe in it. Look what it did to him. Look what it did to me.

It wasn't hard to get back into the business of writing commercial jingles—if that could be called a business. I was only working part-time. It was just a hobby for now… something to busy myself with, so I wouldn't think about other things. I think you know what the other things are.

Jack and Fi both called, pleading with me not to write jingles again. That I was so "above" that. I, of course, was too stubborn to admit that they were right. I hated jingles. I felt like I was going backwards. I used to be a rock star—or, at least, in my hazy view of the world, I was. I sure felt like a rock star.

So imagine my shock when someone else called, also pleading with me.

"Hello?" It was one of those rare occasions when I answered the phone, because I was expecting a call from a local grocery store to find out whether or not they approved of my latest tune. The Caller ID said "Restricted," and I didn't think anything of it.

"Molly?"

I almost didn't recognize the voice at first. Actually, that's a lie. I recognized the voice immediately—I just couldn't believe my ears. "Who's this?" I asked hesitantly, fearing the answer.

"Come on, Molly. Let's not play this game anymore. You know damn well who this is."

"Irene."

"It's been a while, huh?"

I wanted to hang up. My hands were shaking. Why was she calling? And yet, hearing her voice on the other end of the line, all I could think was one thing: this must have something to do with Carey. Something happened. Is she ready to forgive me? Or did something bad happen? Am I about to get something worse than the silent treatment? I clung to the receiver, anxiously anticipating whatever words were about to come from her mouth. "It's been a while," I repeated.

"I just heard your latest jingle on the radio, Moll. I've been hearing it all week. Twenty times a day, if not more. I couldn't get you off my mind."

I wasn't sure how to respond. Without thinking, the words just spilled out. "I miss you, Irene…"

"God, I miss you too. Why didn't you call?"

"I don't know. What was I supposed to do? I mean, the days turned into weeks… the weeks turned into months… and years. What could I do? I felt silly," I admitted. "I wanted to, so bad…"

"To apologize?"

I blushed hard, though Irene couldn't see it through the phone. Apologize? I thought. Never. I was growing angrier now—how dare she ask me to apologize! I may regret what happened to Carey and me for the sole reason that it turned out so horribly, but I don't regret what I said to Irene when I quit, and what I didn't say to her when she sent Carey away. She ought to consider herself lucky that I was even talking to her now, and I wanted to tell her so, but held my tongue.

"Oh God, I'm sorry," Irene said quickly, interrupting my thoughts and the long pause in our conversation. "I didn't mean to say that—it just—"

"Don't worry about it," I interrupted. "But to answer your question, I never wanted to apologize. I don't regret it. I'm not sorry. I'm only sorry that you couldn't respect my decision."

"Molly, I completely understand why you quit. I was trying to take your music in a completely opposite direction, and you didn't want that. But then to just cut me off like you did—"

"What? How did you expect me to react, after what happened next?" My heart was pounding again. I hoped we wouldn't get into specifics. I really didn't want to talk about this, not with her, not right now. I didn't need additional stress.

"Okay, Molly, you got me. I didn't call you to argue. I guess I'm the one who should be sorry. And I am. I'm sorry. I just never expected you'd hold a grudge against me for so long. I didn't know how much I hurt you." There was another pause. "Look, this is crazy. We live right down the street from each other. Why don't you just come over? Have dinner with us. Ned is making his famous meatloaf…"

"I don't know, Irene." It didn't feel right. How had we avoided each other for so long? I saw her in town all the time, but always looked the other way, pretending not to see her. She did the same.

"All right. What about tomorrow, then? I want to see you. I want to just get everything out in the open." I cringed at the thought.

"Tomorrow… sure," I agreed reluctantly.

"Great," she said. "Tomorrow it is. Stop by sometime around two, if you can. Or whenever. I'll be around."

"Okay."

And just like that, the stubbornness was beginning to melt away.