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With a quick kiss, Liz swearing up and down she'd be ok and a promise to regroup soon, Liz and Isaiah parted ways within Huskers. Liz took in her surroundings that she was so accustomed to yet hadn’t stepped foot in for the better part of 4 months. The clinking of glasses, laughing of friends and scents of citrus and spirits, all brought a sweet sense of familiarity. Although leaving her job was somewhat of a necessity Liz did miss it something fierce.
As her eyes took in the scene before her they settled on Mollie who seemed to be standing away from the crowds. She looked… restrained. Seeing Mollie in this state especially in Husker’s of all places gave Liz a twinge of sadness. She was used to Mollie being anything but reserved at the bar, her laughs usually filled the air as she seemed to find time to converse with almost everyone. Liz wondered if she’d ever come back to Huskers after Kent’s death. Liz quit her job at the bar only 2 months after the man’s death and the lack of either of the McIntyres’ presence in that time was noticeable. Since Kent’s death most of the instances the women had crossed paths were at the general store or on the street, Mollie’s patronage to Husker’s wasn’t really a worthy query in those small interactions.
Liz made her way over to the woman, finding a place next to her. ”Hey, how you holding up?” she asks softly.
Stepping into Huskers for the first time since Kent’s passing had stirred a wave of emotions inside Mollie. The familiarity of her surroundings had hit her first, momentarily filling her with a strange sense of peace. Then came the rush of memories: the first time she’d laid eyes on Kent by the pool table across the room, the way his unmistakable laughter used to echo inside the space, the feeling of his arms around her lifting her up and spinning her around whenever she or they won a pool game, the many conversations they’d shared across beers and joints… She was grateful to have Dallas by her side– her arm keeping her steady until the overwhelm washed away. Once she gave her the okay, the cousins separated, with Dallas making a beeline to the booth at the furthest end of the room while Mollie chose to occupy the last, most discreet stool at the very corner of the bar. She ordered a water and quietly observed the familiar surroundings, trying to not call attention to herself.
Mollie offered the woman a sad smile and merely shrugged. “It’s so strange, being here without him,” the blonde admitted, discreetly wiping away the tears out of the corners of her eyes. “I’ve never known this place without him. We met here. We had our first date here. We had our first kiss right outside of those doors. We came here every weekend to play pool. Even when he was sick, he still tried to make it in here at least once a week; even if it was just to have a glass of water while chatting with his neighbors or listening to the same old songs in the jukebox. Coming in here and knowing he’s never going to walk through the doors with that loud Scottish laugh of his announcing he’s arrived ever again is just… It’s a lot.”
Liz nodded her head sympathetically, pulling out a nearby seat at a small table and sitting herself down, she nodded at the seat across from her, offering the younger woman a seat. Liz knew the pain of losing a loved one but she knew it in the form of losing an unborn child, not a partner. She had no clue how she would act if she lost Isaiah. “I'm sorry, Mollie,” the woman says softly. “It can't be easy. I quit a few months ago but the time I was here after his passing we missed having him around. We missed both of you. I don't think this place was ever the same. Or ever will be. Is this your first time back?”
“That’s so kind of you to say. Thank you,” Mollie thanked Liz with a soft, grateful smile, feeling her spirits lift a little. While the pain of losing Kent was immense, it made her feel better to know that she wasn’t the only one to lose someone so meaningful, and that she wasn’t alone in her time of grief. “Yeah, it’s my first time back here since it happened. I wish it was under better circumstances, but this power outage kind of forced my hand a little. It was either come here to enjoy the AC and maybe a cold one or stay home baking in the heat and listening to Dallas whine about not having power,” she joked, poking fun at her spoiled little cousin. As much as she loved Dal, Mol would’ve gone nuts if she’d been subjected to her dramatic sighs and protests for the entire day.
Liz gave a chuckle as Mollie poked fun at her younger cousin. It was nice to see a somewhat real smile on the girl's face, even if small. Most of the time Liz had seen Mollie recently she had been miserable, not that any of it was invalid misery. “It's nice to see you smilin’ again, feels like getting some of yourself back, hey?” she says gently, shifting in her seat. The AC was much nicer than the oven their home had suddenly become overnight. “Let me buy ya a drink, I think you deserve it for putting up with this place. You still a bahama mama girl?”
“I am, but I’ll settle for a mimosa this early in the morning,” the blonde replied. While indulging in day drinking would not be judged by any of the townspeople (especially not someone in her situation), Mol wanted to avoid hard liquor so early in case the power came back on and she had to reopen the store. The last thing she wanted was to lose her job over something like that. “Enough about me and my troubles, though. I feel like I’ve wallowed in my own misery for too long. How are things with you and the baby? It’s almost time, isn’t it?”
Liz made a mental note of Mollie's request, she'd make sure to swing by the bar and get her her drink soon. She rests a hand on her stomach as Mollie asks about the baby. “We've got ‘bout 2 months to go,” if it actually happens her mind couldn't help but internally tack onto the end of that sentence. Liz wished she could avoid the slight pull of dread that seemed to present itself when the baby came into the conversation. She should be excited. She was excited but that excitement seemed to come with the condition of that excitement being tampered. She tried to shake it away.
“Oh shit, already?! That’s so exciting!” Mollie replied with earnest enthusiasm. She knew there were women out there who, after suffering from their own fertility battles, would have bittersweet or negative feelings around pregnancy and pregnant women. In Mol’s case, she had already come to terms with the fact that she wouldn’t be a mother, so the proximity to Liz in her expectant state didn’t trigger any adverse reactions.
“Well he's alive and- quite literally- kicking so I guess they're good. We're honestly a bit behind on everything. Sai repainted the nursery but I don't think he's moved back the furniture or started decorating. Guess we should get on that soon, shouldn't we?” Liz gave a gentle sigh, moistening her lips slightly. “Grief is a… weird thing, ain’t it? I mean Sai and I tried years for this baby and we're almost there and this place was essentially your home and family for the better part of 5 years but neither of us are really having a good time right now, are we?”
“You’re not wrong…” Mollie trailed off with a sigh of her own. “I just try to look at the bright side of things, no matter how hard it can be sometimes. My Kent is gone and there’s nothing I can do to change that. But thanks to him, I’ve got a home, and I’ve met such wonderful people in this town. Gives me something to be grateful for. You and Isaiah suffered a lot to get here, but now look: you’re weeks away from being blessed with the child you both wanted so desperately. It’s just a matter of reminding yourself that time’s your best friend, and that nothing bad lasts forever.”
“You’ve got a good point there, Mollie,” Liz replies with a smile. Not that it ever felt that simple, or that time seemed to be on Liz’ side in recent days but she kept that inside, no need to be more of a downer to an already grieving widow. “I’m glad you’re seeing the good in it all; I can see why Kent was sweet on you. Just make sure you try to see it when you’re alone too, yeah?”
Mollie nodded in agreement. “I'll certainly try,” she told the woman, taking a sip from her water. Sometimes days were harder than others, but she tried to live by her own words as much as she could. “What about Isaiah? How is he doing? I haven't seen him in a while.”
“He's… trying his best.” Liz replies with a sigh, leaning back into her seat. Her fingers nervously tap on the tabletop. “It's a bit of a hard time for him between the mill shutting down and being so close to the anniversary of our… my last miscarriage. I think it's weighing on him more than he'll admit. But he's keeping busy, he's been here with the guys most nights the past couple of weeks. How's the smokeshop?”
The blonde clicked her tongue sympathetically. The closing of the lumber mill had been a hard blow for the town and its residents, and it couldn't have come at a worse time for Liz and her family. Mol could only hope that Isaiah found something to support them before the baby came. “I'm sorry to hear that, Liz. I really am. I'm here if you ever need anything,” Mollie told the dark-haired woman, reaching out for her hand to squeeze it in an attempt at comfort. “And the smokeshop is fine. Boss won't be happy about having to close down and missing out on business because of this outage, but not much you can do, you know?”
Liz squeezes Mollie's hand in return. “We're fine, really,” she replies. Not a lie, at least as long as Isaiah found himself work in the next week or two it wasn't. Liz managed to catch the eye of a bartender, the pair trading small smiles.
“Liz, long time, no see. Can I get something for you?” She asks brightly.
“Hey, Char. Can you just grab us a mimosa, please?”
The younger bartender's brows seem to furrow slightly, “Liz, we both know I can't stop you but-”
“Not for me, for Mollie,” Liz clarifies with a chuckle as she pulls her wallet out of her pocket. “But I'll take an O.J.. Don't start a tab for me, I'll just pay now.” She pulls some notes out of her wallet and tells the bartender to keep the change. She turns her attention back to Mollie as their drinks are quite quickly prepared and placed in front of the pair. “At least it's a day off for you. Let's hope the power comes back soon though, I'm not sure if I can take more than a day of this heat. Is it just me or is this happening more often?”
“Me either, girlfriend,” Mollie answered, showing her appreciation to the bartender with a wink and taking a sip of her new drink. “And I hate to say that it feels like it. Times like these make me miss Vegas: we never went without power as long and as often as we do down here.”
“Y'know, the thought of that alone might just turn me into a city girl,” Liz jokes, taking a sip from her glass. “Maybe I just didn't notice it as much then but I swear the power grid didn't overheat this often when I was growing up. You ever think about heading back to Vegas?”
The blonde took a long sip of her mimosa. The truth of the matter was that, ever since Kent's passing, the appeal of returning to her hometown was weighing heavily on her shoulders. Sure, Pines had become her new home and all; but this was Kent's town, not hers. The residents had become family in multiple ways, but it didn't compare to having her tribe close to her. “Sometimes,” Mollie admitted, though she heavily downplayed the truth of the matter. “But I don't want to leave Dallas right now. God knows that girl needs all the support she can get right now…” she said.
“No one'll blame you for wanting to go home. One of Isaiah's biggest goals was to get us out of here and I get it, I'd follow him, but I know no where else would ever feel the same. I'd probably be homesick on the daily. Can't imagine moving somewhere that probably feels like a downgrade and wanting to stay.” Liz takes another sip of her juice, taking a moment to recognise she really did miss alcohol- a beer felt like the perfect combatant to the Summer heat, before leaning back in her seat once more. She mentally shuffled through what she knew about Dallas- not much but in a small town like this wasn't nothing. It did cause her mind to then shift to her cousin, Caleb. It had been about a decade since they really spoke let alone been close. “It's good of you to be there for her. I'm sure she appreciates it. How's she doing?”
Mollie turned to look at Dallas, whose face was still on her phone in the distant booth she'd selected, and couldn't help but laugh. “Same old, same old,” she replied, turning back to the dark-haired woman. “She's mostly over the Valentino situation– thank God. God knows I'm glad that’s finally over and done with. She's had a strong, firm boundary against him for a few months now; so even if he gets down on his knees groveling and begging to get her back, she's not budging– which honestly is such a big relief. She's got her eye on someone else, too, so that definitely helps put my mind at ease that she's totally done with him and will never take him back,” she told Liz, a certain ex-con/firefighter coming to mind.
It was good to hear that Dallas hadn't gotten over her recent fling but the way Mollie worded it all- it sounded like more than just normal post break up bad blood. Liz knew they ended things and were never seen together after so it likely wasn't the most amicable of breaks but she hadn't heard of anything terrible being involved. It was almost as if Valentino had actually done something. Liz and Val weren't particularly close but she knew him well enough from all his time spent at the bar and their interactions were pleasant enough.
“What actually happened between her an-” Liz felt a lurch in her stomach as she seemed to somehow grow paler than she already is. What followed was a queasiness she had gotten reacquainted with all too well the past few weeks. Maybe orange juice wasn't the best choice today. “I… Sorry Mol I need- let's catch up again soon, kay?” she speeds through her words, not quite finishing a thought. She quickly jumps off her seat, lest she lose the race with the contents of her stomach. She knew the last thing Husker and his employees needed was more to clean. Forcing a smile toward Mol she gives a pathetic excuse for a wave before beelining to the bathroom. She supposed finding out about Val and Dallas’ history was for another day.
As her eyes took in the scene before her they settled on Mollie who seemed to be standing away from the crowds. She looked… restrained. Seeing Mollie in this state especially in Husker’s of all places gave Liz a twinge of sadness. She was used to Mollie being anything but reserved at the bar, her laughs usually filled the air as she seemed to find time to converse with almost everyone. Liz wondered if she’d ever come back to Huskers after Kent’s death. Liz quit her job at the bar only 2 months after the man’s death and the lack of either of the McIntyres’ presence in that time was noticeable. Since Kent’s death most of the instances the women had crossed paths were at the general store or on the street, Mollie’s patronage to Husker’s wasn’t really a worthy query in those small interactions.
Liz made her way over to the woman, finding a place next to her. ”Hey, how you holding up?” she asks softly.
Stepping into Huskers for the first time since Kent’s passing had stirred a wave of emotions inside Mollie. The familiarity of her surroundings had hit her first, momentarily filling her with a strange sense of peace. Then came the rush of memories: the first time she’d laid eyes on Kent by the pool table across the room, the way his unmistakable laughter used to echo inside the space, the feeling of his arms around her lifting her up and spinning her around whenever she or they won a pool game, the many conversations they’d shared across beers and joints… She was grateful to have Dallas by her side– her arm keeping her steady until the overwhelm washed away. Once she gave her the okay, the cousins separated, with Dallas making a beeline to the booth at the furthest end of the room while Mollie chose to occupy the last, most discreet stool at the very corner of the bar. She ordered a water and quietly observed the familiar surroundings, trying to not call attention to herself.
Mollie offered the woman a sad smile and merely shrugged. “It’s so strange, being here without him,” the blonde admitted, discreetly wiping away the tears out of the corners of her eyes. “I’ve never known this place without him. We met here. We had our first date here. We had our first kiss right outside of those doors. We came here every weekend to play pool. Even when he was sick, he still tried to make it in here at least once a week; even if it was just to have a glass of water while chatting with his neighbors or listening to the same old songs in the jukebox. Coming in here and knowing he’s never going to walk through the doors with that loud Scottish laugh of his announcing he’s arrived ever again is just… It’s a lot.”
Liz nodded her head sympathetically, pulling out a nearby seat at a small table and sitting herself down, she nodded at the seat across from her, offering the younger woman a seat. Liz knew the pain of losing a loved one but she knew it in the form of losing an unborn child, not a partner. She had no clue how she would act if she lost Isaiah. “I'm sorry, Mollie,” the woman says softly. “It can't be easy. I quit a few months ago but the time I was here after his passing we missed having him around. We missed both of you. I don't think this place was ever the same. Or ever will be. Is this your first time back?”
“That’s so kind of you to say. Thank you,” Mollie thanked Liz with a soft, grateful smile, feeling her spirits lift a little. While the pain of losing Kent was immense, it made her feel better to know that she wasn’t the only one to lose someone so meaningful, and that she wasn’t alone in her time of grief. “Yeah, it’s my first time back here since it happened. I wish it was under better circumstances, but this power outage kind of forced my hand a little. It was either come here to enjoy the AC and maybe a cold one or stay home baking in the heat and listening to Dallas whine about not having power,” she joked, poking fun at her spoiled little cousin. As much as she loved Dal, Mol would’ve gone nuts if she’d been subjected to her dramatic sighs and protests for the entire day.
Liz gave a chuckle as Mollie poked fun at her younger cousin. It was nice to see a somewhat real smile on the girl's face, even if small. Most of the time Liz had seen Mollie recently she had been miserable, not that any of it was invalid misery. “It's nice to see you smilin’ again, feels like getting some of yourself back, hey?” she says gently, shifting in her seat. The AC was much nicer than the oven their home had suddenly become overnight. “Let me buy ya a drink, I think you deserve it for putting up with this place. You still a bahama mama girl?”
“I am, but I’ll settle for a mimosa this early in the morning,” the blonde replied. While indulging in day drinking would not be judged by any of the townspeople (especially not someone in her situation), Mol wanted to avoid hard liquor so early in case the power came back on and she had to reopen the store. The last thing she wanted was to lose her job over something like that. “Enough about me and my troubles, though. I feel like I’ve wallowed in my own misery for too long. How are things with you and the baby? It’s almost time, isn’t it?”
Liz made a mental note of Mollie's request, she'd make sure to swing by the bar and get her her drink soon. She rests a hand on her stomach as Mollie asks about the baby. “We've got ‘bout 2 months to go,” if it actually happens her mind couldn't help but internally tack onto the end of that sentence. Liz wished she could avoid the slight pull of dread that seemed to present itself when the baby came into the conversation. She should be excited. She was excited but that excitement seemed to come with the condition of that excitement being tampered. She tried to shake it away.
“Oh shit, already?! That’s so exciting!” Mollie replied with earnest enthusiasm. She knew there were women out there who, after suffering from their own fertility battles, would have bittersweet or negative feelings around pregnancy and pregnant women. In Mol’s case, she had already come to terms with the fact that she wouldn’t be a mother, so the proximity to Liz in her expectant state didn’t trigger any adverse reactions.
“Well he's alive and- quite literally- kicking so I guess they're good. We're honestly a bit behind on everything. Sai repainted the nursery but I don't think he's moved back the furniture or started decorating. Guess we should get on that soon, shouldn't we?” Liz gave a gentle sigh, moistening her lips slightly. “Grief is a… weird thing, ain’t it? I mean Sai and I tried years for this baby and we're almost there and this place was essentially your home and family for the better part of 5 years but neither of us are really having a good time right now, are we?”
“You’re not wrong…” Mollie trailed off with a sigh of her own. “I just try to look at the bright side of things, no matter how hard it can be sometimes. My Kent is gone and there’s nothing I can do to change that. But thanks to him, I’ve got a home, and I’ve met such wonderful people in this town. Gives me something to be grateful for. You and Isaiah suffered a lot to get here, but now look: you’re weeks away from being blessed with the child you both wanted so desperately. It’s just a matter of reminding yourself that time’s your best friend, and that nothing bad lasts forever.”
“You’ve got a good point there, Mollie,” Liz replies with a smile. Not that it ever felt that simple, or that time seemed to be on Liz’ side in recent days but she kept that inside, no need to be more of a downer to an already grieving widow. “I’m glad you’re seeing the good in it all; I can see why Kent was sweet on you. Just make sure you try to see it when you’re alone too, yeah?”
Mollie nodded in agreement. “I'll certainly try,” she told the woman, taking a sip from her water. Sometimes days were harder than others, but she tried to live by her own words as much as she could. “What about Isaiah? How is he doing? I haven't seen him in a while.”
“He's… trying his best.” Liz replies with a sigh, leaning back into her seat. Her fingers nervously tap on the tabletop. “It's a bit of a hard time for him between the mill shutting down and being so close to the anniversary of our… my last miscarriage. I think it's weighing on him more than he'll admit. But he's keeping busy, he's been here with the guys most nights the past couple of weeks. How's the smokeshop?”
The blonde clicked her tongue sympathetically. The closing of the lumber mill had been a hard blow for the town and its residents, and it couldn't have come at a worse time for Liz and her family. Mol could only hope that Isaiah found something to support them before the baby came. “I'm sorry to hear that, Liz. I really am. I'm here if you ever need anything,” Mollie told the dark-haired woman, reaching out for her hand to squeeze it in an attempt at comfort. “And the smokeshop is fine. Boss won't be happy about having to close down and missing out on business because of this outage, but not much you can do, you know?”
Liz squeezes Mollie's hand in return. “We're fine, really,” she replies. Not a lie, at least as long as Isaiah found himself work in the next week or two it wasn't. Liz managed to catch the eye of a bartender, the pair trading small smiles.
“Liz, long time, no see. Can I get something for you?” She asks brightly.
“Hey, Char. Can you just grab us a mimosa, please?”
The younger bartender's brows seem to furrow slightly, “Liz, we both know I can't stop you but-”
“Not for me, for Mollie,” Liz clarifies with a chuckle as she pulls her wallet out of her pocket. “But I'll take an O.J.. Don't start a tab for me, I'll just pay now.” She pulls some notes out of her wallet and tells the bartender to keep the change. She turns her attention back to Mollie as their drinks are quite quickly prepared and placed in front of the pair. “At least it's a day off for you. Let's hope the power comes back soon though, I'm not sure if I can take more than a day of this heat. Is it just me or is this happening more often?”
“Me either, girlfriend,” Mollie answered, showing her appreciation to the bartender with a wink and taking a sip of her new drink. “And I hate to say that it feels like it. Times like these make me miss Vegas: we never went without power as long and as often as we do down here.”
“Y'know, the thought of that alone might just turn me into a city girl,” Liz jokes, taking a sip from her glass. “Maybe I just didn't notice it as much then but I swear the power grid didn't overheat this often when I was growing up. You ever think about heading back to Vegas?”
The blonde took a long sip of her mimosa. The truth of the matter was that, ever since Kent's passing, the appeal of returning to her hometown was weighing heavily on her shoulders. Sure, Pines had become her new home and all; but this was Kent's town, not hers. The residents had become family in multiple ways, but it didn't compare to having her tribe close to her. “Sometimes,” Mollie admitted, though she heavily downplayed the truth of the matter. “But I don't want to leave Dallas right now. God knows that girl needs all the support she can get right now…” she said.
“No one'll blame you for wanting to go home. One of Isaiah's biggest goals was to get us out of here and I get it, I'd follow him, but I know no where else would ever feel the same. I'd probably be homesick on the daily. Can't imagine moving somewhere that probably feels like a downgrade and wanting to stay.” Liz takes another sip of her juice, taking a moment to recognise she really did miss alcohol- a beer felt like the perfect combatant to the Summer heat, before leaning back in her seat once more. She mentally shuffled through what she knew about Dallas- not much but in a small town like this wasn't nothing. It did cause her mind to then shift to her cousin, Caleb. It had been about a decade since they really spoke let alone been close. “It's good of you to be there for her. I'm sure she appreciates it. How's she doing?”
Mollie turned to look at Dallas, whose face was still on her phone in the distant booth she'd selected, and couldn't help but laugh. “Same old, same old,” she replied, turning back to the dark-haired woman. “She's mostly over the Valentino situation– thank God. God knows I'm glad that’s finally over and done with. She's had a strong, firm boundary against him for a few months now; so even if he gets down on his knees groveling and begging to get her back, she's not budging– which honestly is such a big relief. She's got her eye on someone else, too, so that definitely helps put my mind at ease that she's totally done with him and will never take him back,” she told Liz, a certain ex-con/firefighter coming to mind.
It was good to hear that Dallas hadn't gotten over her recent fling but the way Mollie worded it all- it sounded like more than just normal post break up bad blood. Liz knew they ended things and were never seen together after so it likely wasn't the most amicable of breaks but she hadn't heard of anything terrible being involved. It was almost as if Valentino had actually done something. Liz and Val weren't particularly close but she knew him well enough from all his time spent at the bar and their interactions were pleasant enough.
“What actually happened between her an-” Liz felt a lurch in her stomach as she seemed to somehow grow paler than she already is. What followed was a queasiness she had gotten reacquainted with all too well the past few weeks. Maybe orange juice wasn't the best choice today. “I… Sorry Mol I need- let's catch up again soon, kay?” she speeds through her words, not quite finishing a thought. She quickly jumps off her seat, lest she lose the race with the contents of her stomach. She knew the last thing Husker and his employees needed was more to clean. Forcing a smile toward Mol she gives a pathetic excuse for a wave before beelining to the bathroom. She supposed finding out about Val and Dallas’ history was for another day.
