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shakespeareanwannabe · 2 years

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One Hell of a Year: October

Summary: When Molly Henderson makes the move from Chicago to Lockhart, Texas, she doesn’t expect much. A new teaching job, a new community, and maybe a few new friends, but what she didn’t expect was to meet Michael Perry, a man with a heart of gold, October eyes, and a smile that made her tummy do a strange little flip-flop. With Michael by her side, Molly finds that she may just be able to not only find a life in Lockhart, but thrive there as well.

Warnings: swearing, minor illness, pining, yearning

Disclaimer: I don’t own Won’t Back Down.

With the budget being set, and Michael and Molly promising to keep the costs low, preparations for the school production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream had taken off like a shot. Michael and Molly spent their prep periods putting together posters, sign up sheets, and making lesson plans that integrated as much Common Core as they could into their play prep.

Better yet, the kids were loving it. And not just the kids in their classes either. The entire school was abuzz with whispers of who was auditioning for what parts, who wanted to help with costuming and make up and hairstyling, and who wanted to help the teachers make the whole thing shine on show night.

In short, Molly’s chest felt like it was going to burst…and not just because of the cough that had been grumbling in her lungs for the past few days.

“‘M fine,” she wheezed at Lauren as they rapidly turned copied script pages into booklets for auditions.

Lauren cocked an eyebrow at her. “Uh-huh, sure.”

Molly cleared her throat and winced at the feeling of razorblades tickling their way down her throat. “Just dusty in here.”

“Girl, you know you are allowed to take a day off, right? It’s one of the few perks of this job. Germs breed like bunny rabbits in schools. Admin doesn’t want sick kids, so teachers actually get a decent number of sick days.”

Molly shrugged her shoulders against the massive weight of exhaustion that was crashing down around her.

“If I need one, I’ll take one.”

Lauren rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I’ll believe that when I see it.”

The copier whirred as it spat out more audition sides for the kids, Molly grabbing them from the tray and stapling them as quickly as she could despite her blurring vision.

“Hey, ladies. How’s it going?”

Molly’s eyes crashed shut. Despite her protests, she knew she looked like crap. She knew her eyes were red and watery, her face was puffy, and her nose was probably running. Hell, she knew she looked like crap because one of her students, Diego, had just told her that before second recess. And now, of course, she had to face him.

“Well, I’m good,” Lauren replied huffily. “But Ms. Henderson here seems to not have gotten the memo about teacher’s benefit packages.”

Michael leaned against the copier; his hands filled with a box of material for costumes. “What’s she talking about, Molly?”

She sniffed and swallowed, desperate to keep her voice steady. “Nothing. ‘m fine. Don’t—” A hacking cough cut through her, and she groaned at the force of her own body betraying her.

Michael sighed. “Ah, the first victim of the latest schoolyard special,” he commiserated with a sympathetic smile. “Welcome to your life as a teacher.”

“You guys know I taught before, right?” she said into her elbow as another cough overtook her. “In Chicago? Where you could catch pneumonia in the winter when you step out to get your paper in the morning?”

Lauren tsked. “Everyone knows that the schoolyard special is a different beast. Even doctors haven’t cracked the right combo of antibiotics and cold meds to give to help us fend it off.” Lauren leaned around her to look at Michael. “I found her in here, asleep at the prep table.”

Molly flushed, feeling her face heat up even more when Michael put a sympathetic hand on her shoulder. “So, this is where you were hiding, huh? I was looking for you.”

“Sorry,” she croaked. “I thought I’d get a head start on getting these audition sides together, but I was so tired I just put my head down for a minute.”

He squeezed her shoulder briefly. “Hey, Lauren, you drive today?”

She shook her head. “No, I hitched a ride with Alex. Why?”

“Why don’t you drive Molly’s car back to her place, and I’ll take her home in my car?”

Molly shook her head, putting her hand down on the copier when the room swayed in front of her eyes. “No, it’s okay. ‘M fine.”

Michael held her steady with his hand on her shoulder and pressed his other hand to her forehead. Molly felt her eyes flutter closed at the coolness of his palm as his callouses brushed against her temples.

“You’re not fine, you have a fever. I don’t want you driving home like this, honey. C’mon, I’ll give you a lift home. Lauren?”

Molly’s mouth was already open to protest, again, when Lauren sighed dramatically. “I suppose I’ll drive her germ-infested car back to her place. But you owe me, Perry.” She whipped out her cellphone from her pocket. “Let me just call Darren and let him know he needs to pick me up at Typhoid Mary’s house.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Michael chuckled as she strode out the door. “We’d better follow her. She’s going to have to follow me, and you’re going to have to give me directions to your place because I’ve never been there.”

“Michael, you really don’t have to do this…” she trailed off as he gently tugged her along back towards her classroom, where he helped her shrug into her jacket and pulled her purse out of her desk drawer.

Pressing it into her hands, he met her eyes and squeezed her hands gently. “I know. But I want to. And I’m not overexaggerating when I say that, if something bad happened to you, I don’t know what I’d do with myself.”

Molly credited her exhaustion when her heart didn’t skip a beat at his confession. Instead, she tiredly nuzzled into his shoulder as he began to gently guide her back down the hall to where Lauren was waiting.

“You’d be fine,” she mumbled as the front doors clicked shut behind them.

As he gently deposited her into the passenger side seat, she could have sworn she heard him mumble something in reply, but she was too tired to think about it, so she just mumbled her address to him when he slid into the driver’s seat and fell asleep.

*** *** *** ***

“Wake up, Sleeping Beauty. You’ve gotta tell me if this is your house because…well, damn.”

Molly forcefully pried her eyes open and blinked away the fog. Casting a quick glance at the large farm style house to her right, she nodded sleepily. “Yeah, this’s me.”

Michael whistled lowly as he got out of the car and made his way over to her. “Damn, sweetheart. They must pay those Chicago teachers way better than they pay us here.” He opened the door and held his hand out. Drowsily, she grabbed his hand and let him pull her to her feet. “Let’s get you inside, huh?”

Molly nodded slowly and leaned her head into his chest as he steadily led her up her front walk to her door.

“I don’t have my keys,” she murmured into his leather jacket, opting to burrow further into him rather than search for her missing keys. He was so warm and comforting, and he smelled so good.

She felt his chest rumble with a chuckle. “Well, I guess I should thank my sister-in-law for the cologne.”

She groaned and fought back the tickle in her throat to say, “I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

Michael cooed. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I know you’re not feelin’ good.” She grumbled as he shifted her weight slightly to dig into his pocket. “I snagged your housekey off your keychain before I gave them to Lauren. She drives like an old lady, so I figured we might beat her here.”

Holding up the silver key for a brief second, he swiftly unlocked the door and led her inside the spacious home, where moving boxes were still stacked up along the walls. He quickly relieved her of her purse, placing it on the oak entrance table, and hung her coat on the wrought iron coat stand.

“I’m telling you, sweetheart. When you feel better, you’re gonna have to tell me how you afforded a place like this,” he murmured as he led her further into the house.

“‘kay,” she sighed. “‘m sleepy.”

Michael gently rubbed her back. “You want to go to sleep?”

She nodded against his chest. “Upstairs.”

Slowly but surely, he helped her up the hardwood stairs to the second story of the house and into the large master bedroom.

“Do you think you can get changed out of your work clothes?” he asked hesitantly, rubbing his hand across his face and down to the back of his neck.

“Mhmm,” she sighed and flopped onto the soft mattress.

“Okay then, you get changed and I’ll go get you some cold meds, okay?”

Molly nodded absentmindedly as Michael left the room. She pulled off her skirt and blouse, dropping them at the foot of the bed and pulling on her soft flannel pajamas that had been folded on her pillow. Leaning over to put her necklace and ring on her nightstand, her head touched her pillow for just a second, and Molly lost her fight against consciousness, right there on top of the covers.

*** *** *** ***

Six hours later, Molly groaned and coughed. Her head was on fire, her chest felt like someone was sitting on her, and her bladder was full. Shivering slightly as she pulled off the covers, she trudged to her ensuite, trying to move as fast as her tired body would allow so she didn’t wake up too much.

Molly moaned when the glare of the bright lights reflected off the mirror and she got a good look at herself for the first time since she left the house that morning. She looked like Death warmed over, but at least she had no smudged makeup to add to her disheveled appearance.

Molly frowned as she finished up in the bathroom. She didn’t remember taking off her make up. And, come to think of it, she hadn’t gotten under the covers either.

Crawling back into bed, Molly turned on her bedside lamp, quickly shoving the shade so the light was blaring in the opposite direction. Her brow furrowed despite her migraine, and she reached out to pick up her cellphone, plugged into the charger by her bedside table and currently lit up with a message.

Drowsily, she put in her voicemail passcode and pressed the phone to her ear.

“Hey Molly, it’s me. Michael. Sorry but I put your phone number into my phone so I could call and make sure you live until tomorrow. Haha…sorry, bad joke. Anyway, I hope you don’t get this until tomorrow morning. You need your rest. The school doesn’t know how to run anymore without the amazing Ms. Henderson. But, if you do happen to listen to this before sunrise, take the cold pills I left on your nightstand. There’s a bottle of water too, and that Thermos is full of soup that might still be warm.

I already let Renata know that you were really sick. She needs your confirmation, but I know she already put out the request for a floater teacher to fill in tomorrow. Apparently, you weren’t as convincing as you thought when you told everyone you were fine. Please, take tomorrow off. I will make sure everything is set up in the morning when I get there, even though I will miss having my partner in crime at work tomorrow.

If by some miracle you recover before 8 a.m. tomorrow, know that I have your housekey. I can drop it off tomorrow after school lets out for the weekend, or, if you do decide to come in, just call me and I’ll drop it off. I just didn’t want to leave the door unlocked with you asleep.

Anyway…sleep well and feel better, sweetheart. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Despite her head and her throat and her chest, Molly smiled. She reached over to pick up the purple Thermos and opened it to find warm chicken noodle soup (that she knew for a fact she didn’t have in the house earlier).

As she tossed the cold pills into her mouth and washed them down with warm broth, Molly began to wonder if, perhaps, a little more ‘new’ in her life wasn’t such a bad idea, so long as that ‘new’ was Michael Perry.

*** *** *** ***

Molly followed Michael’s instructions. She had washed down her pills with the still warm soup, she had called Jefferson and left a message for Renata confirming her absence, and she trusted Michael to know where to find everything the supply would need for the day. After that, she slept on and off for the rest of the day, and finally trudged downstairs around 4 p.m. to find something to eat and curl up on the couch.

Finding nothing in her fridge and her cupboards bare, she had just resigned herself to the couch and a stack of takeout menus when the doorbell rang.

Molly whimpered at the very thought of having to get up and get the door when she was still wearing the same flannel pajamas from the previous night, and that whimper turned into a croaky gasp when the door cracked open and a voice called out, “Don’t freak out! It’s just me, returning your key!”

Pressing a hand to her chest, Molly called out weakly, “C’mon in, Michael.”

He poked his head around the corner with a soft smile. “How ya feeling, honey?”

Molly shrugged painfully. “I’m still alive.”

“Well, thank god for that,” he smiled as he toed off his shoes and stepped into the room, holding a large paper bag aloft as he announced, “I come bearing gifts.”

Molly groaned as the aroma of something fried wafted towards her, cutting through her stuffy nose. “Oh my god, that smells incredible.” She coughed lightly into her elbow. “But you didn’t have to do that.”

He flopped onto the couch next to her. “You think I’m gonna leave you to suffer on your own? What kind of man do you think I am?”

“A good one,” she sighed heavily. “But if you stay, you’re gonna get sick.”

He shrugged as he started unpacking containers from the bag. “You underestimate me. After 15 years of working in way too many schools to count, my immune system is like the Iron Curtain. Nothing gets in.”

She snorted. “You know that’s not how the Iron Curtain worked, right?”

“Hush, or I’ll take your food away,” he smiled softly.

She pouted. “But I’m sick.”

Michael’s gaze softened, his head tilting just slightly to the left as he hesitantly reached out a hand and pressed it against her forehead. Molly forced herself to freeze, desperate not to nuzzle further into his hand or purr like she so desperately wanted to.

“Well, you feel a little cooler than you did yesterday. But you’re not out of the woods yet, so I guess I shouldn’t steal your food.”

She returned his soft smile. “Thank you, Dr. Perry. Can you tell me what you got me?”

Instead, he plopped a pillow in her lap and balanced one of the tins on it. “Ta-da,” he sang quietly as he pried off the lid.

The sight of fried chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, and sauteed garlic green beans made her mouth water.

“Wow…” she whispered. “You really are an angel.”

Molly counted herself as blessed, despite her illness, when she looked up and caught the flustered look on his face. He shrugged as if it were no big deal and said, “I’m just doin’ what my mama would have done.”

“Oh? Did she prescribe fried chicken when someone caught the plague in your family?”

He chuckled and handed her a plastic fork. “It was her secret to successfully nursing her children through childhood illness. First day, chicken noodle soup, which you now have cans of in your cupboard, by the way. Day two, comfort food. You’re tired, you don’t want to eat, your body is burning energy faster than you can make it, so a meal that really gets you excited is the way to go. Day three, lots of fruits, veggies, and water to flush your system and help boost your vitamin intake.”

She giggled. “Your mom sounds like a smart lady. I’ll make sure to follow her instructions tomorrow.”

Michael shot her an incredulous look. “Again, what kind of man do you take me for? My mama raised a good man, so I’m not leaving your side until you feel better. I mean, if that’s okay. I can totally leave if you want me to. I don’t want to—”

“Michael, shh. It’s okay,” she soothed, reaching out a hand to squeeze his forearm. “I appreciate it, but I also know that you’ve probably got better things to do on a Friday night than hangout with me.”

He scoffed and popped open his own container. “Clearly you don’t know me at all. The best thing I can do is hangout with my friends, and you, Molly Henderson, are shaping up to be one of my best ones.”

Molly felt her face flush with heat. “Th-thank you, Michael. Y-you’re one of my best friends too. I don’t think I would have made it through the past month and a bit without you.” To her dismay, she felt tears well up in her eyes and rushed to brush them away. “S-sorry,” she murmured when she caught his concerned eyes lingering on her. “I always get super emotional when I’m sick.”

He reached out tenderly and brushed her sweaty hair from her forehead. “Don’t worry about it, sweetheart,” he murmured. “It’s just me.”

Her chest rumbled. “I know,” she murmured. “That’s what scares me. It…” she felt her face heat up. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had anyone in my life who cares like you do.”

Michael sighed and squeezed her arm. “Me too. But I promise you, kid. I’m not going anywhere.”

Molly snorted with laughter, wincing as it turned into a cough. “You know, I’m not that much younger than you, right?”

Michael smirked. “Yeah, but you’re young enough. And you look it too, in your cute PJs.”

Molly didn’t have it in her to be embarrassed, but she reached out and gently kicked his knee for good measure. “I never did get to thank you for tucking me in last night. Or for taking off my makeup. Or for getting me soup.”

He shrugged, digging into his meal. “I grew up the oldest of six, 4 boys and two girls. I used to help my mom out a lot, especially when the younger ones would get sick. Besides, – and if you tell anyone at school this, I will straight up deny it – I kind of missed having someone to take care of.”

Molly spooned some mashed potatoes into her mouth. “I kind of get what you mean. I’m an only child, but I loved playing with my stuffed animals when I was a kid, making sure they were all warm and tucked in and, I don’t know, happy, I guess? My grandpa always told me that I would make one hell of a teacher because I was so obsessed with taking care of my stuffed animals. Then, when I was old enough, I would babysit the neighbourhood kids and I absolutely loved it.”

Michael smiled softly at her as he shifted on the couch, balancing his tin of food on his leg as he turned towards her. “Sounds like taking care of kids has always been your passion then.”

She nodded shyly, brushing her hair out of her face and taking a bite of fried chicken. “After babysitting came tutoring, and I stuck with that all through high school and college. I just love it, though I do miss the one-on-one time sometimes. It’s so hard getting through to 30 kids and making sure that no one gets left behind.”

Michael hummed. “I get that. I’ve got this one kid in my class who never turns work in, never on time, and that’s when he actually does show up at school. I’ve asked him what’s up, if he needs help, he shrugs me off. I ask his home people; they say they don’t care if he goes to school because he’s just going to end up working on the family ranch.”

Molly shook her head sadly. “Wow. Do they realize that he could learn stuff at school to help him run the ranch? Balancing the books, writing proposals?”

Michael shrugged. “They don’t care. And the kicker is that I remember this kid’s answer from his journal entry in the first week of school. I asked them what they want to do when they grow up. He said he wants to be a vet to help the animals on the ranch. And the kid is smart. He knows so much about animal habitats and behavior and how to handle emergencies. He could be an amazing vet, but nobody but me is willing to give him the push he needs.”

Molly reached out and squeezed his arm. “And me. Anything you need, any time, any place. I’m there.”

Michael slid his arm back and caught her hand, squeezing it slightly. “Thank you, Molly.”

Molly found herself entranced, not for the first time, by his sweet brown eyes. Deep and warm and rich, like the hot chocolate her grandfather used to make her on cold winter days, and lined by the longest lashes she had ever seen, lightly kissing his cheeks whenever he blinked. Unwittingly, unthinkingly, she began stroking her thumb along the back of his hand, still encasing hers.

She wasn’t lying before. It had been a long time since someone had cared for her to this degree. And while she was afraid of getting burned again, she was still drawn like a moth to a flame by his sweet, October eyes, his broad, teasing grin, and his melodical voice.

He seemed to feel it to, the tension that drew over them like the drawstring of a bow, just waiting for the little cherub to lose his arrow. He shifted slightly closer and leaned in, that spicy cologne cutting through her plugged nose.

“Michael…” she breathed, his face coming ever closer. “I—”

Molly thanked God that she had quick reflexes as she turned her back on Michael, sneezing violently into her elbow. Grabbing a tissue from the box on the side table, she told herself that her wet eyes were only from the sneeze, that she didn’t just ruin something that had the potential to be great. If Michael was the guy she thought he was, he’d be willing to wait until she wasn’t running a fever. And, if he didn’t end up wanting her the way she wanted him, then she knew it was his loss, but she would still count herself lucky to be his friend.

When she turned back around, Michael was sitting back in his seat, thoughtfully munching on his fried chicken as he stared around the room.

“You know,” he took a chance to swallow and take a swig of his sweet tea. “When you’re feeling better, I’m gonna come and help you unpack. This house is amazing and you’d have a lot more room if you were able to get these boxes out of here.”

Molly smiled, grateful for the out. “What, you don’t like the ‘just moved in’ aesthetic I’m going for?”

He shrugged playfully. “I mean, if it’s what you want, you go for it. But I’m hoping to spend a lot more time here, so I would like to have a place to sit without having to move…” Michael checked the label on the box next to him. “Photos, Knickknacks, and Assorted Décor.” Michael smirked at her. “Photos, huh?”

Molly sniffled pathetically, pasting on her best pout. “You wouldn’t. Not while I’m sick.”

Michael grinned softly. “No, I wouldn’t. But when you’re feeling better, I’m going to need to see those photos.”

Molly smiled. “Deal.”

Saturday passed in the most peaceful blur that Molly had ever experienced. Time with Michael just seemed…different.

When she had awoken on Saturday morning from a deep, medicated sleep, Michael was up and cooking, the scent of scrambled eggs and bacon tempting her from her bed. As promised, his breakfast feast came with a side of fruit salad, as well as fruit juice. When she had pouted at the lack of coffee, he had just laughed and told her she was cute when she pouted, which was a high she rode throughout the day. Together, they did laundry, cleaned the house, and did some marking, though Michael begged her to let him do all the heavy lifting. When she had come out of her ensuite bathroom from taking a much-needed shower, her flannel pajamas were sitting folded on the end of her bed, toasty warm, as though they had been pulled out of the dryer seconds before her arrival.

She found herself falling harder for him every second that they were together. They never seemed to run out of things to talk about, and she could honestly say that she felt like she had known him for her entire life. Things were comfortable, fun, and warm. Molly wanted to bury herself in that warmth like a childhood blanket or a favourite, worn sweater.

And yet, Sunday she awoke feeling…better. Her nose was less stuffy, her throat had just a tickle, and her thermometer said her temperature was just a few degrees above normal. She knew she couldn’t be selfish, so she greeted him in a pair of grey leggings and a hoody from her alma mater.

“Well, it looks like Mama Perry’s recipe for curing an illness worked wonders,” she murmured into her orange juice as she perched in the chair next to him. “I feel almost one hundred percent. By tomorrow morning, I’ll be fully charged and ready to go.”

Michael smiled, and Molly hoped she wasn’t imagining the tinge of sadness she thought she spotted. “Well then, I guess I’d better not overstay my welcome.”

“Michael, you couldn’t –”

He smiled and held up his hand. “I know, Molly. But I unfortunately do have some responsibilities to deal with at home. It’s all part of that ‘being an adult’ thing. I’ve gotta make sure my fish and my cactus haven’t thrown any wild parties, y’know?”

She giggled. “Well, you never know. I hear goldfish are real rebels.”

He chuckled as he put his dishes in the dishwasher and gathered his things. “Oh, you don’t know the half of it,” he teased. “I’m up all night sometimes just because they can’t keep it down. They really are terrible roommates. And the cactus is no better, always complaining about kids on our lawn. He’s a really grumpy fellow.”

“Oh, so I guess you can say he’s a bit…prickly?” Molly fought to keep a straight face but couldn’t help the giggle that escaped.

Michael snorted and shrugged on his coat. “Oh, you really are feeling better.”

She shrugged and leaned against the doorway as he put on his shoes. “All thanks to you.”

He shrugged humbly and rubbed the back of his neck. “Anytime, sweetheart.”

“No, really.” She stepped closer. “Thank you, Michael.” Hesitantly, she raised her arms and, giving him time to move away, she wrapped her arms around his chest and squeezed lightly.

After a beat, his arms twined around her, and she felt his head rest atop hers. “For you, anytime,” he whispered before pulling back and planting a quick kiss on her cheek. “Take care of yourself, sweetheart. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She smiled as he opened the door. “See you then,” she sighed as the door clicked shut. Leaning heavily against it, she turned and faced her now-empty house. For the first time in years, it had felt like a home, but Michael had taken all that warmth with him as he had stepped out into the blistery autumn day.

True to her word, Molly woke up Monday morning feeling much better. By no means was she back to one hundred percent, but she was close enough that she got ready for work with the slightest pep in her step, only pausing to put some Advil in her purse, just in case.

In all honesty, she had missed her kids. She had missed their faces and their questions, the goofy moments they still laughed over and the solemn moments they had supported each other through. And, truth be told, she missed Michael like crazy. It had been less than 24 hours since she had seen him, but she felt his absence like a missing limb. She just didn’t know how to operate quite right without him, which was a dangerous precedent but one, if he was willing, she wanted to explore a little more.

On that note, and as a thank you, she stopped by the local café and picked up two coffees and a box of doughnuts to share with her favourite co-worker/friend/hopefully-something-more.

“Knock, knock,” she called as she pressed the door of Room 17 open with her hip. “Hey Michael, I—oh! Hi.” A young redhead sat behind Michael’s desk, looking startled and frazzled. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry.”

The redhead giggled nervously. “It’s okay, seriously. Umm, I’m Rachel McKinley. I’m subbing in for…” she paused to look at the paper on her desk. “Michael Perry.”

“Oh…” Molly felt her heart squeeze in her chest. “Is everything okay?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah. I think so. The secretary said that he should be back tomorrow and that I should try to find Molly Henderson?”

Molly nodded. “Yeah, that’s me.”

A look of relief washed over Rachel’s face. “Oh thank god. I got the call this morning about subbing for the day, but there’s no supply notes and the office didn’t have a clue as to where to find any lesson plans. But apparently he said to ask you in his voice mail.”

Molly nodded, a slight smile on her face and a glowing feeling in her stomach. He trusted her to help out his class, his students who meant the world to him.

“Uh, yeah. Hold on a second.” Molly shuffled the coffees in her hands. “Uh, Michael likes his coffee black but I’m sure there’s milk and sugar in the staff room if you want this.” She held out the unopened coffee cup.

“Oh, thank you,” Rachel took the cup and gulped part of it down as Molly shuffled through the binders stacked on Michael’s desk.

“Ah-ha!” she exclaimed, pulling out the lime green folder that was buried under stacks of play scripts. “Here’s his generic supply plans. It’ll all be review, so the kids shouldn’t struggle with it. I know he wasn’t planning on being absent today, so this’ll have to do.” Molly flipped open the folder and scanned through the pages. “Yeah, these’ll be good for the kids, and it’ll be an easy day for you too. Just review the math and social studies, have them read their books and fill out these worksheets, have them play some tag games for gym, and you’ll have prep at the end of the day. Easy-peasy.” Molly handed the folder over. “I’m just across the hall if the kids give you a hard time, but they shouldn’t. They love Michael, and don’t want to disappoint him.”

“That’s awesome. Thanks so much.”

Molly left the room as Rachel read over the worksheets in the file, feeling a little sad and more than a little guilty.

*** *** *** ***

“I need a favour.” Molly slid into the seat next to Lauren in the staff room.

“Jesus!” she gasped. “Hi to you too, Typhoid Mary.”

Molly rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Thanks for driving my car over. You’re clearly alive and not sick, so it couldn’t have been that bad.”

Lauren cocked an eyebrow at her. “Yeah, I survived to tell the tale. But I see Lover Boy isn’t here, and a little birdie told me that our beloved Mr. Perry spent all weekend at your house, which is gorgeous, by the way.”

Molly felt her face flush. “Tell Alex to stop spreading rumours. And thank you. So…about that favour?”

Lauren rolled her eyes. “Yeah?”

“You’ve been friends with Michael for a few years, right?”

Lauren eyed her suspiciously. “Yeah…”

“So…you’ve been to his house?”

Lauren sighed. “Yeah. But that information is gonna cost you.”

Molly glared. “Fine. I’ll cover your bus duty all next week.”

“Sold!” Lauren tore a piece of paper out of her notebook and scribbled an address down. “Pleasure doing business with you.”

Molly scoffed and stood. “You’re one heartless wench, Mrs. Lancaster.”

Lauren laughed. “And yet, you still put up with me.”

*** *** *** ***

Molly shuffled nervously on her feet as she stood in front of the red door in the row of townhouses. This was stupid. He was probably pissed at her. After all, it was technically her fault that he was sick. But Michael wasn’t like that. And, technically, she had warned him.

Molly sighed, shifting the packages in her arms to lightly kick the door.

A minute, then two, slowly passed, and Molly’s worry grew. Had his condition taken a turn for the worst? Had her minor cold turned into a deadly flu? Had—

“M-Molly?”

She looked up and her heart broke. Those sweet, honeyed whiskey eyes were clouded, his nose rubbed raw, and that sweet voice was cracking like thin ice.

“Hey, Michael,” she murmured softly. She held up a bag of take-out from the local deli. “I guess this is where I say ‘I told you so’, huh?”

He groaned and leaned against the door. “You don’t have to. I don’t—” A harsh cough cut him off.

“C’mon, Michael,” she said softly, stepping closer and urging him back into the house. “Let me take care of you.”

He moaned but nodded, stumbling backwards into the house and she closed the door and toed off her shoes.

She followed him into a brightly light, cozy living room, where he promptly collapsed onto the couch and laid down.

“Jesus, is this how you felt, Molly?”

She perched on the arm of the sofa and pressed the back of her hand against his forehead, hissing when her hand burned against his skin.

“Yeah, it seems like it. But that’s okay, I know the perfect cure.”

He groaned and opened an eye to gaze blearily at her. “Yeah?”

She held up the brown paper bag she had been carrying. “Mama Perry’s patented cure all, right? Hot chicken noodle soup from that deli you keep telling me to try. Tomorrow I’ll come back and bring you comfort food. And Wednesday, it’s all fruits, veggies, and smoothies for you, my friend.”

He coughed weakly, but she could see a small smile pulling on his lips. “You don’t have to do this.”

She sighed and carded her fingers thoughtfully through his short, cropped hair. “Yeah, I do. And not just because you’re sick because of me. I want to. You deserve someone who is going to take care of you, Michael.”

That hint of a smile grew into a full-blown grin. “I told you so.”

She grinned and stood. “I’m pretty sure that’s my line.”

He shook his head, his eyes tracking her as she wandered through the house, trying to find the kitchen. “No, I told you that you were one of my best friends. This just proves it.”

Molly took a second to breathe in the kitchen, not letting him see how his words affected her. Maybe she had put him off by continually calling him just a friend. Maybe she should have mentioned the unspoken tension between them, or the electricity that had sparked on Meet the Teacher Night. But Molly knew she couldn’t be selfish. If all he wanted was a friend, then she was going to be the best damn friend Michael Perry had ever had.

Unfortunately, Molly didn’t have the same privilege as Michael to stay overnight and take care of him. However, that didn’t stop her from stopping in the next morning before school to deliver homemade pancakes and bacon, while simultaneously promising to deliver the lesson plans that she and Michael had drafted together the night before while he sipped on his soup.

It also didn’t stop her from picking up barbecue from Kreuz’s on her way back to his place that night.

Digging his spare key, which he had urgently pressed into her hand before she had left his house that morning, out of her pocket, she called his name as she turned the knob and stepped into his sanctuary. Toeing off her shoes, she silently trod into his living room and felt her heart melt.

Michael was asleep, exactly where she had left him, curled up on his leather couch and hidden under a half-dozen blankets.

Smiling softly, she perched on the arm of the couch next to his head and carefully pressed her hand to his forehead, wincing internally at the heat that was rolling off of him in waves.

“Poor thing,” she thought to herself, leaving her hand resting on his sweltering skin for a moment. In the almost two months that she had known Michael, he was never still. He was always thinking, always in action. In class, he was always wandering around or playing ukulele or dancing. During lunch, Lauren had whacked him more than a few times for jiggling his knee under the table. In prep, he was always flipping a pen or bouncing his knee again. Seeing him so still, so completely wiped out, felt so unnatural that it made her heart hurt. And yet, she was glad that she was there. She was glad she got the chance to take care of him, to show him how much she cared, even if he didn’t.

A weak grasp around her wrist startled her out of her introspection, and she looked down to see a dozy but smiling Michael pulling her hand off his forehead and, her heart stopped, pressing a kiss to her palm.

“Hey…” he croaked.

“Hey, honey,” she cooed, unable to resist the sweet moniker. “How ya feeling?”

He groaned. “Like death. I’m sorry I didn’t put you out of your misery.”

She giggled softly. “That’s okay. I would’ve missed you too much if you had.”

He hummed and released her hand, sitting up slightly. “How did it go today?”

She shrugged playfully, putting down the bag of take out on the coffee table. “Oh, you know. Same old, same old. Your kids hung their supply from the flagpole. I’m pretty sure one of them set Mrs. Thomas on fire for telling them to be quiet in the library. By the end of the day, they had total school domination.” She smiled playfully. “You trained them well.”

He chuckled. “I’ll have to reward them when I get back.” A hacking cough stole his breath for a moment, and Molly slid into the space between him and the couch arm to rub his back. Finally, he breathed easy. “If I ever go back, that is.”

She rolled his eyes. “Oh please. I don’t see this being the thing that’s going to hold you down. What would happen to Johnny, Cash, and Spike if you let this thing beat you?” she asked, gesturing to the two goldfish swimming in their tank, a tiny green cactus in an earthen pot standing proudly beside the tank.

Michael turned his sweet, honeyed, puppy dog eyes on her. “I leave them to you in my will. Make sure they know I loved them,” he replied dramatically, letting his head flop into her lap.

She gently played with the short strands of greying hair as she laughed. “Tell them yourself when you get better. I’m not done playing Nurse Ratchet yet.” Before she could second-guess herself, she leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss onto his forehead, then pretended to ignore the quiet, contented hum that he made at the light pressure.

“Nurse Ratchet wishes she had your bedside manner,” he whispered, tilting his head slightly to catch her gaze.

“Well, I should certainly hope so,” she teased as she leaned over to open the bag of food. “If she’s the standard by which nurses are measured, we are in deep trouble.”

She closed her eyes briefly to let the sound of his laugh wash over her like a wave, as she tried to convince herself that, yeah, friendship would be enough with this man.

Though Molly did miss her favourite teacher friend on Wednesday, she was happy when she rolled into school on Thursday morning to find him leaning against his little blue Nissan, next to her unofficial parking space, holding two cups of take away coffee.

“Well, look who decided to rejoin the land of the living!” she crowed, grabbing her teacher bag out of the backseat as he took the few steps to meet her. Sighing, she thanked him as he passed over her cup of coffee, which was half gone by the time they breached the entrance doors of the school.

“Yeah, well, someone had to congratulate my class on total school domination,” he teased, hefting his satchel higher on his shoulder. “Though I do see that you overexaggerated when you said they went full Incredible Hulk on the building.”

“Did I say that?” she hummed naively. “I don’t recall. You had a pretty bad fever though, so I don’t blame you for being confused.”

He shook his head as he stepped closer, crowding just slightly into her space and compelling her to lean back against the brick wall outside her classroom door. “I’m not confused, sweetheart,” he murmured. “A little disappointed that my kids didn’t take over the school as planned, but not confused.”

She giggled and tilted her head, uncrossing her arms and welcoming him closer. “Well, better luck next time, I suppose.”

“Ahem!”

Michael quickly backpedaled as Molly straightened, crossing her arms again.

“Jesus, Lauren! Warn a guy next time you sneak up behind him,” he griped.

She cocked her eyebrow at both of them. “Oh please, if you two hadn’t been so busy flirting, you would’ve heard me coming a mile away. These heels do not lie.”

Molly rolled her eyes at her friend. “Sure, Lauren. Was there something you needed?”

Lauren huffed. “Yeah. Renata’s not in today, but she’s left me as Teacher in Charge. If you need anything, please, for the love of god, don’t send the kids to me. You know how much I hate being TIC.”

Michael nodded. “Yeah, I recall. What did the kids call you last time? Mrs. McMonster? How long did it take for that nickname to fade away?”

She laughed. “It didn’t fade. It is now a well-used threat in my arsenal.”

The three laughed as Lauren began to retreat. “Oh, and there’s a quick staff meeting in the staff room at lunch,” she called over her shoulder.

Molly’s brow furrowed. “But I thought you said Renata wasn’t here?”

“Shits still gotta get done, Ms. Henderson,” Lauren laughed as she turned the corner.

Michael stepped closer and nudged her gently. “Don’t worry, it’s probably just Lauren trying to pressure some other poor schmuck to take the TIC roll next time Renata’s out. It’ll be fine.”

*** *** *** ***

It was clear as day that the students adored Michael. When Molly had stepped out onto the pavement for her morning duty, Michael had joined her and had been immediately swamped by students of all ages, shouting about how they had missed him and where he had been and asking whether or not his absence would affect the audition schedule that had been posted on Monday. Molly had posted that schedule, unaware that her partner was absent, but had been reassured multiple times by Michael himself that the show would, and must, go on.

All day long, she had heard Michael singing away in his classroom, laughter and cheers emanating from the room across the hall.

“You’re adorable,” she announced, barely thinking, as she leaned against the doorframe of his classroom after the lunch bell rang and all the kids had run out to recess.

“Oh?” he smirked over at her, pulling the pen from between his lips. “Tell me more.”

She felt her face flush. “Oh, please. You know you are. Your cute little dances and sing-alongs. The kids adore you.”

He stepped closer, invading her personal bubble, and she welcomed it. “And you?”

She bit down on her bottom lip. So many mixed signals to choose from and so little time. And yet, he didn’t seem like he was just playing with her emotions. He seemed genuine and, well, perfect.

“I…”

“C’mon you two, McMonster isn’t going to hold off this staff meeting forever!” Alex shouted down the hall.

She turned back to Michael and spotted the disappointed look on his face.

“Keep it up, Mr. Perry,” she murmured as they turned and walked down the hallway together. “I might just tell you what I really think about you.”

She just caught sight of his bright smile as they reached the staff room. “I might just take you up on that, Ms. Henderson.” He sighed as he placed his hand on the door. “You ready for this?”

Her brow furrowed. “Ready for what? I thought this was just a quick staff meeting.”

He smiled softly. “Now who’s adorable?” With that, he turned the knob and pressed the door open, allowing Molly to step in ahead of him.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” the staff and teachers of Jefferson shouted.

Startled, Molly stepped back, right into Michael’s warm, hard chest.

He gently placed his hands on her shoulders, rubbing soothingly and whispering in her ear, “I’ve gotcha. Happy Birthday, honey.”

She gazed around at the normally drab staff room, now decorated with bright blue and purple streamers, a Happy Birthday banner, and some cute helium balloons, and felt her eyes well up.

“Guys…” she murmured.

“Okay, before you lay into us,” Lauren interrupted. “We know it was your birthday on Tuesday. But someone –” she glared playfully at Michael. “– begged and pleaded with me to hold off just so he could be here.”

Molly turned to Michael, aghast. “Y-you remembered?”

He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Yeah. I wanted to wish you a happy birthday when I saw you on Tuesday, but it kept slipping my mind. When you left, I realized that I had forgotten so I called Lauren, who, in my defence, had also forgotten, and she agreed to push your birthday celebration to today instead of yesterday.”

Molly swiped at her tears. “You guys didn’t have to do anything, I…”

Michael wrapped his arms around her, engulfing her in a bear hug. “Of course we did. You’re one of us now, Molly Henderson.”

Lauren and Alex piled on. “One of us! One of us!”

She giggled and broke away from Michael reluctantly, still swiping at her falling tears. He smiled softly and grabbed a tissue, carefully soaking up any tears that she had missed. Molly found herself getting lost in his kind eyes, wondering if, maybe, he felt the same way as her after all.

A soft grunt from Alex broke her reverie, and she giggled awkwardly, looking around at the staff members, wondering just what to say to them.

“Cake!” Laura Rivera called from her table in the corner, a soft smile on her face as she tossed Molly a lifeline.

“Oh shoot, yeah!” Alex chuckled as he ducked into the fridge and pulled out a large sheet cake covered in white icing, with purple and blue flowers and a large ‘Happy Birthday Molly!’ in cursive. “We’re not gonna put on a bunch of candles because that would take too long,” Alex teased as he stuck a large candle into the middle of the cake and lit it. “But we’re still going to sing because what’s the point of having a birthday party if we can’t embarrass you.”

There were a few chortles and chuckles as the staff stood and crowded around her.

Molly turned as Michael pulled away, perching himself on the counter next to the sink, pulling his ukulele out from the cupboard.

Strumming it, he began to sing, “Happy birthday to you…”

*** *** *** ***

Knock, knock, knock…

Molly looked up from the pile of papers on her desk to find Michael standing in the doorway, a sheepish smile on his face.

“Hey!” she greeted cheerfully before glancing up at the clock on the wall. “Shoot, when did it get so late!” She began scrambling to push her belongings into her bag.

“Hey, easy champ,” he soothed, stepping into the room and perching on the corner of her desk. “You got a hot date or something?”

Molly bit her lip. “No…I just didn’t realize that it had gotten so late.”

Slower this time, Molly piled her papers up and calmly shifted her belongings from her desk to her bag.

“What about tomorrow?”

“Hmm?” she mumbled absentmindedly, trying to count the test papers in front of her.

“Do you have a date tomorrow?”

Startled, she looked up. “What? No. Why?”

He shrugged. “I just thought, since you spent your birthday trying to nurse me back to health, maybe I could take you out tomorrow night?”

His body language was relaxed, careless even, but Molly could see the hopefulness in his eyes.

She felt her face heat up. “Um…yeah. Yeah, I’d really like that.”

He chuckled, sounding relieved. “Awesome. That’s…that’s awesome. I’ll pick you up at your place? Six o’clock?”

She nodded eagerly. “Yeah, that’s perfect. See you tomorrow morning?”

He smiled broadly and nodded. “Yeah. See you tomorrow, sweetheart.”

He grinned and exited.

3…2…1…

Molly squealed, surprising herself. She felt as giddy as a freaking schoolgirl, and she was a schoolteacher. She was supposed to be professional, someone for her kids to depend on and emulate, and yet, there she was, butterflies in her stomach over the cute boy across the hall.

“Shit,” she thought, standing and quickly pacing over to the still-open door. “What if he had heard her?”

She peeked out the door and down the hall, and her heart absolutely melted.

Michael was dancing down the hall, pumping his fist in excitement.

Molly pulled her head back into the room and settled her back against the brick wall, wrapping her arms tightly around her chest. Yeah, she felt like a schoolgirl, but what was the problem with that? Some people waited their entire lives for a feeling like that and, God help her, she wanted to see where that feeling led her.

When the doorbell rang the next night, Molly almost panicked. Almost.

She and Michael had spent every available second of the school day (not in front of their students) unabashedly flirting with each other, so much so that Alex and Lauren both opted to sit at a different table during lunch. During prep, it had taken just about everything inside of her not to just lean over and kiss him. But she didn’t. Because she had to be professional.

When she had gotten home, she kicked into high gear. She had two hours to get ready, and, while she knew that Michael wasn’t some kind of playboy, she wanted to be prepared for every possibility. So, she pampered herself. A nice, long, warm luxurious bath with a rose-scented bath bomb (and a tall glass of red wine to sip on to calm her nerves). She shaved and moisturized, put on a face mask and a hair mask, buffed and polished every square inch of her body until she felt like the damn Sears Building. Then, she spent a solid thirty minutes trying to perfect an understated, natural but complimentary make up look before sitting in front of her open closet, wondering what the hell to wear, especially since she had no clue where he was taking her.

Eventually, she collapsed back on her bed. She had nothing to be nervous about. It was just Michael. Her friend. Hell, her best friend. Her sweet, warm-hearted, kind-eyed, loving, caring, nurturing, handsome, charming, sexy as all hell best friend. Who had asked to take her out for her birthday. There was nothing to suggest that this was a date, but if he meant the invitation as a date, she was sure as hell ready to go on a date with him.

She groaned and sat back up. She was thinking too hard, too deeply, about this. She was reading too much into it. It was just Michael.

She picked up her favourite pair of high-waisted skinny jeans and a black floral print tank top that was just a touch too tight and low-cut for school, the v-neckline enhanced by a criss-crossing tie up feature over her bust. She tossed on her favourite tan leather jacket and jammed her feet into a matching pair of suede wedge sandals.

That’s when the doorbell rang, and her heart almost jumped out of her chest.

Steeling her last nerve before it abandoned her, she took a deep breath and strode over to the door, opening it widely.

“Hey, Michael,” she smiled.

Again, he looked good. Every pair of jeans he owned just seemed to cling to him in all the right places, and his black button up showcased just enough of his chest to have her mouth watering. And, of course, his black leather jacket made the sweet man in front of her look just a tad dangerous.

“Hey, Molly,” he breathed. “Wow…you, uh…you look amazing.”

She shyly brushed her hair out of her face. “Thank you. You look really good yourself.”

He rubbed the back of his neck shyly. “Thanks. Oh! These are for you.”

He hastily held out a beautiful bouquet of flowers. Yellow peonies, pink gerbera daisies, soft purple lilac branches, and a single red rose smiled up at her.

She sighed softly. “Michael, they’re beautiful. Thank you so much. Do you want to come in while I find a vase for them?”

“Sure,” he stepped inside and closed the door behind him. “So, I realized I never told you what we were doing…”

“Am I overdressed?” she called over the sound of running water.

“No, no, you look great!” he called back, eyeing the boxes that were still in her living room. “I got us reservations at this Italian place downtown. Then, if you’re not caked out from yesterday, I thought maybe we could grab some gelato?”

“That sounds perfect.” The sound of her low heels against the hardwood floor preceded her as she came back into the room, the flowers now safely at home in a crystal vase. “Shall we?”

He nodded, his eyes skimming distractedly over her form. “Yeah, let’s make like a banana and split.”

She snorted. “Again, you’re adorable.”

He smiled softly at her. “I still think you’re the adorable one, but I’m not going to argue with you on your birthday dinner.”

She smiled back at him as she followed him out of the house, locking the door behind her as they headed out into the cool fall air.

The restaurant was quaint and romantic, kind of a stereotypical Italian restaurant that you’d see in the movies. A tiny tealight candle flickered in the frosted glass jar on their table, doing little to combat the dim mood lighting, while the artistic stained-glass windows did just as little when it came to letting in any natural light.

But still, it was…perfect.

Michael sat across from her in a small booth in the back, smiling as he regaled her with the tale of the first time he had met Lauren.

“…and then she goes, “Damnit, Perry. What am I supposed to tell admin now?” To which I respond, “If we cover it up with an anchor chart, they’ll never know.” And they never did find out, so now you’re in on this secret too.”

Molly giggled loudly. “Oh my god, that’s amazing.” She took a moment to take a sip from her red wine, partially trying to calm her breathing. “I mean, the staff at Jefferson is incredible. I feel so lucky that I get to be a part of it.”

He reached out and took a swig from his beer, shaking his head. “No, we’re the lucky ones. It’s hard to get good teachers to come to a mediocre school like Jefferson, but you show up and you care so much. The kids are lucky to have you. We are lucky to have you.” Michael paused for a moment, then grinned. “Okay, we’re not doing this. We’re not talking shop on your birthday celebration. So, from here on out, we don’t talk about work. We don’t talk about teaching or our students. Deal?” He held out his bottle.

Clang!

“Deal,” she smiled. “Okay, Michael Perry. What movie could you watch over and over again without getting bored?”

“Ahh,” he sighed, sitting back in his seat. “Finally getting to the good stuff, I see. Hmm…” he drew circles around his beer bottle as he thought. “Probably Stand By Me.”

Molly let loose a low whistle. “Damn, that’s kind of a dark answer.”

He shrugged. “Maybe. But think about it. At its core, its about how we all eventually cross that line where we’re no longer children, sure. But it’s also about the unshakable bonds of friendship that we all have at that age. I don’t know a single person who watches that movie and doesn’t think about the friends they had in primary school, wishing they could reach out and talk to them. But we can’t because we aren’t those people anymore. Plus, the parallels to real life are chilling.”

Molly sipped her wine. “Like I said, dark. But I see what you mean. It is probably one of my favourite 80s movies.”

“Okay, Molly Henderson. What about you?”

She put her wine glass down. “Easy. The Princess Bride. Comedy? Check. Drama? Check. Action? Yep. Adventure? Of course. Romance? It’s got it in spades. It’s quite simply the most perfect movie to ever exist.”

He smiled knowingly at her. “I knew you had good taste.”

She smirked, picking up her wine glass again. “Oh hush.” She sipped. “Okay, your turn.”

Michael held up a finger as the waitress approached their table, carrying two plates laden with delicious smelling Italian food.

“Thank you,” he smiled, Molly echoing the sentiment as she pulled her plate closer. “Okay, if you could go to any moment in history, not to change anything, but just to take part in it, what would you choose?” he asked, grabbing the red pepper chili flakes and sprinkling them over his pasta.

“Oh, that’s a good one,” she smiled, grabbing the chili infused olive oil and drizzling a touch onto her chicken and spinach pizza. “Umm, selfishly? Queen’s performance at Live Aid back in 1985. To be in that crowd and witness a twenty-minute set that set the standard for live performances forevermore? I’d sell a kidney for that.”

Michael chuckled as he took a bite of his meal. “I don’t think there’s anything selfish about that. I was going to say Woodstock.”

“Really?” she blinked up at him. “I never took you for the hippie sort.”

He shrugged. “I’m not, really. I’m not about the grow my hair out and start smoking up, but peace in our lifetime and love for all? I don’t see anything wrong with those philosophies.”

Molly nodded. “I get that. Sorry, I didn’t mean –”

He held up his hand with a soft smile. “No, I know you didn’t. Besides, I’d go to Woodstock for the music alone.”

She bit her lip to hide her smile. “Just warn me if you start wearing tie-dye, okay?”

“Why, would you stop hanging out with me if I went full hippy?” he pumped his eyebrow, a challenge in his eyes.

She scoffed. “How shallow do you think I am?” She took a bite of her pizza, her eyes twinkling. “I’d just have to drastically cut down on my time with you.”

He laughed loudly, his head falling back, allowing her to admire the lines of his neck.

“Oh, I knew I liked you, Molly.”

She felt the heat rise to her cheeks. “I…I like you too, Michael,” she murmured softly, looking down at her plate. She didn’t want to overstep her boundaries as his friend and co-worker, but she had the feeling it would be so worth it if she could just find it within herself to take that plunge.

She glanced up when she felt his hand cover hers, warm and slightly calloused.

“How’s your food?” he offered with a gentle smile on his face.

“It’s really good. Do you want a bite?” She held out a slice and he leaned forward, allowing her to guide the slice to his mouth.

He winked right before taking a bite and chewing thoughtfully. “Mmm, that’s really good,” he claimed before holding up a fork laden with pasta. “Your turn?”

She nodded and leaned forward, wrapping her lips around his fork and pulling the pasta off it. She moaned and closed her eyes as the aromatic spices and tangy sauce hit her tongue. “God, that’s good.” She took her time chewing and swallowing before opening her eyes, noting Michael’s eyes locked on her. “You okay?”

He seemed to shake himself before biting into his food again. “Yeah, I’m good.”

She nodded before hitting him with another question.

*** *** *** ***

Conversation flowed between them as easily as a river in spring, carrying them through their complementary dessert, their hand-in-hand walk through the park with gelato in waffle cones, and the drive back to Molly’s house. Inevitably, that easy conversation died out as he pulled into her driveway and walked her up to her door.

Molly pulled her jacket close around her as a cold blast of autumn air blew through her street.

“I guess that’s nature’s way of telling me to let you get inside,” Michael chuckled half-heartedly.

“I guess so,” she replied hesitantly, not wanting the night to end but the words inviting him back in not coming.

“Umm, I was thinking…” Michael shifted on his feet, digging his hands into his pockets. “If you’re not doing anything tomorrow, maybe I could swing by and help you unpack those boxes? I mean, if it’s not too presumptuous.”

Molly smiled softly, unable to believe that this soft, sweet man was her friend, even if she knew in her heart that she wanted more. “Yeah, I’d really like that. Umm, maybe like 1ish?”

He nodded eagerly. “I’ll be here.”

Michael stepped up onto her porch and engulfed her in a warm hug. “Happy Birthday, Molly,” he whispered before pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek. She clung to his back, not wanting to let him go, and he gently swayed back and forth, one hand coming up to cup the back of her head.

Eventually, she pulled back just a tad and found herself staring into his warm October eyes, his breath gently fanning across her face. Michael leaned in microscopically and rubbed his nose gently against hers.

They stayed suspended in that moment, Molly’s breath caught in her throat. It would be so easy to just push forward that inch or so and press her lips against his. But the potential consequences of such an action were too many to imagine. She didn’t want to ruin their friendship by adding another layer. Michael Perry was already one of her favourite people, and she didn’t want to lose him. So, she pulled back, a small, apologetic smile on her face as she caught what she imagined a crestfallen look in Michael’s eyes.

“Goodnight, Michael,” she murmured. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

He nodded, seeming to steel himself before smiling up at her. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Molly. Have a good night.”

She swallowed back the desire to stop him, run to him, kiss him, not let him leave, as he turned around and walked back to his car. She waved as the car pulled away, then turned and entered her home, wondering if she had just ruined things before they even started.

*** *** *** ***

“I’m an idiot,” Molly groaned, collapsing onto her couch and kicking off her wedge sandals.

“If you tell me that Romeo made a move and you didn’t jump all over him, I’m driving there and kicking your ass,” Lauren shouted, her voice tinny from the phone reception.

“Fine, then I won’t tell you,” Molly grumbled, shoving a handful of barbecue potato chips into her mouth.

“Molly, what the hell?” Lauren screeched. “You have been mooning over him since your first day at Jefferson, why didn’t you make a move?”

Molly groaned, sinking further into her couch. “I don’t know! I was afraid, I guess.”

“Of what!?!”

Molly could hear Lauren pacing through her house, probably trying not to wake her kids and Ken.

“I don’t know. Getting hurt, ruining our friendship, putting my job in jeopardy. Take your pick!”

Molly heard Lauren sigh in frustration, and Molly mirrored the feeling. She was frustrated too. She had just gotten home from the best date she had ever had, but she didn’t even know if it really was a date. She really liked Michael, and it seemed like he really liked her too, but what if she was imagining it? What if she had built him up in her mind to be the perfect guy for her, and she ended up getting hurt? What if she hurt him? What if they ended up being awful together, thereby affecting the way they worked together? And yet, she couldn’t quiet the voice in her head that said they could be fantastic together and that nothing would go wrong.

“Girl, that guy would light himself on fire before he hurts you, the two of you click like I’ve never seen, and Renata knows how to handle in-house romances when they go sour. But you’re getting ahead of yourself. It’s not like you have to marry the guy tomorrow. Just let him know how you feel, because I bet you anything that he feels the same way,” Lauren sighed. “You said he’s coming over tomorrow to help you unpack?”

“Yeah, he offered to come over after lunch.”

“Okay. Be friendly. Act like you normally do when you two are together. Wait for an opening, then tell him how you feel. Make sure to tell him that it’s a no pressure situation, because he’s probably incredibly confused based on the weird signals you’ve been throwing off, but I guarantee that he cares about you just as much. If not more.”

Molly chewed on her bottom lip. “You’re sure?”

Lauren sighed. “No. Nobody can be sure about these things, Mol. But I know Michael Perry, and I have never seen him look at another person the way he looks at you. Tell him.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll tell him tomorrow.”

“Good. Now, I think my yelling woke Charlie up, so I’ll see you Monday.”

“See you, Lauren,” Molly mumbled as she hung up.

Calling Lauren had been the right move, she was sure. Her friend was a straight shooter, always straight to the point. But still, even though Molly had a plan now, she had never felt more unsure.

This time, Molly leapt anxiously for the door when Michael knocked the next day, just a few minutes before 1.

“Hey,” he greeted, stepping in from the rain that had started pouring overnight and not let up.

“Hey, thanks for coming and helping me with this,” she replied, taking his jacket, and hanging it up.

“No problem, anything for you,” Michael smiled warmly.

“Yeah, so you keep saying. I guess I’ll just have to keep throwing tasks at you and see if you ever refuse,” she joked.

“Well, I draw the line at donating my necessary organs, but you can have ‘em if something terrible happens to me.”

Molly’s eyes widened before she scoffed. “Don’t even joke about that, Michael.”

“Sorry,” he murmured after looking into her eyes and seeing a hint of sadness there.

She shrugged. “It’s okay. You want something to drink. Water, lemonade, soda, coffee…”

“Sure, a lemonade would be great.”

Michael followed behind her into the living room, Molly continuing into the kitchen.

“So, how many boxes do you still have to unpack?”

Molly re-entered the room with two tall, icy glasses of pink lemonade. “Umm, just these, I think. Everything else is in the basement, but those are more holiday décor and seasonal stuff than necessities. These boxes are photo albums, knickknacks, and little kitschy things that I didn’t need right away.”

Michael took the proffered glass and settled cross-legged on the floor, pulling one of the boxes close. “Let’s get started then.”

Brushing her hair back from her face, Molly crouched on the floor beside him, coming to rest on her knees.

Michael smiled brightly over at her as lightning clapped in the background.

“Does this mean I get to flip through these photo albums?” he wiggled his eyebrows.

Molly giggled softly. “I thought you were here to help, not to make fun of me.”

He shrugged, opening one of the boxes and pulling out a photo album. “I can do both at the same time.”

He cracked the album open and started flipping through the pages.

Hesitantly, Molly shifted to sit next to him, her legs curled up under her. As she moved, her hair brushing against his cotton-clad shoulder, she caught sight of the cursive writing in the corner of the first page. Molly’s Prom.

“Oh god,” she buried her head in her hands. “You just had to pick this one.”

“What?” he chuckled. “It can’t be as bad as my prom photos.”

“What, were you wearing a powder blue suit with a ruffled white shirt?” she snorted.

He wheezed with laughter. “No, but close. I think it was supposed to be a navy-blue suit, but it ended up being forest green? My shirt was too small, so I had to be careful not to breathe so I didn’t pop any buttons. Oh, and I almost got my ass tossed out because I tried wearing Converse instead of dress shoes. To a rigidly Catholic school dance.”

Molly grimaced. “Oh, yikes. That sounds awful.”

“Exactly. And I know there is still photographic evidence somewhere. I will even find it for you. But you have to show me yours now, especially if I show you mine.” Michael froze, embarrassment colouring his features for a moment. “I…I didn’t mean it like that.”

Molly’s heart began beating out of her chest. “Michael, I…”

“Oh my god!”

Molly looked down and spotted the picture that was proudly sitting centre stage.

“Shut up,” she mumbled, desperate for the Earth below her to swallow her whole.

Her dress, if such a monstrosity could even be called a dress, was an extremely unflattering shade of lime green lace with black satin. Her hair was piled in a complicated updo that had honestly given her such a migraine that she could barely remember the night. And, of course, to tie together the stereotypically bad, nightmarish prom picture, was her wide smile, marred by a painful looking set of braces.

“Shit, I’m sorry, Molly,” Michael wrapped his arm around her. “I didn’t mean to sound…yeah, I’m an ass, okay?”

“‘S okay,” she muttered. “I know I look like trash. We didn’t have a whole lot of money, so my grandma made my dress for me with this really cheap green lace and one of my mom’s old black satin dresses. The neighbour lady did my hair for me, and my best friend did my make up. And, of course, the braces went on a week before prom night, so there was no hiding them.”

“Hey now, c’mon. You don’t look like trash. You look cute, but you also look really uncomfortable.”

She shrugged. “I was. I didn’t even want to go to the stupid dance, but everyone told me that it was going to be the best night of my life. Spoiler alert, it really wasn’t. My date danced with everyone but me, my friends all ditched me to go to an afterparty, and my grandpa had to come pick me up.”

“Oh, well that’s just crap.”

Michael released her and stood up, heading over to the CD player she had set up in the corner of the room.

“Michael, what are you doing?”

He flipped through her CD book and pulled one out, slipping the disc into the player and turning back to her as Maybe I’m Amazed by Paul McCartney and the Wings began to play.

“I’m making up for your shitty prom experience. C’mon, don’t leave me hanging, kid.”

Heart in her throat, Molly reached up and took his hand, allowing him to pull her up and into his arms. One of his arms banded around her waist, his hand resting on her opposite hip. His other hand grasped hers warmly, pulling it up to about shoulder height as they began to sway. Her free hand came up to rest gently on his shoulder, prompting him to pull her closer, close enough for her to lay her head on his shoulder.

Closing her eyes in bliss, she breathed in that spicy aftershave along with a scent that was so uniquely Michael. Regardless, she wanted to bathe in that scent and the warmth of his arms around her forever. It was perfect. Sure, there was lightning and thunder crashing in the background, her living room floor was strewn with boxes and photo albums, and they kept coming close to almost kicking over one of the glasses of lemonade, but it was perfect for her.

All too soon, the song came to an end and Molly opened her eyes, only to find Michael was already looking down at her with a tender expression clear in his eyes.

“Michael…I…” she breathed, his breath once again fanning across her face.

“Tell me to stop if you don’t want this,” he whispered urgently, his nose brushing against hers, so close that she could almost feel the vibration of his lips against hers.

“But…” she met his eyes. “I don’t want you to stop.”

He breathed in sharply. “Molly…”

“I’ve wanted this for a while,” she murmured tearfully. “I know I’ve been throwing off some mixed signals, but—”

His lips pressed against hers urgently, as though he couldn’t wait another second to kiss her. A light whimper escaped from his lips as he shifted to band both arms around her waist, her arms coming up to wrap tightly around his neck with a moan.

As the lightning flashed and the thunder crashed, Molly found herself at peace with Michael in her arms, his lips against hers.

*** *** *** ***

Tags List: @budcooper , @mattmurdocksscars , @aellynera , @beenthroughalot , @itspdameronthings

#michael perry #michael perry imagine #michael perry x molly henderson #wont back down fic #wont back down #one hell of a year fic #oscar isaac #oscar isaac characters

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