“What?” His eyebrows frowned together.
“The meeting will take what, an hour? Two? Molly can’t be outside without being monitored, so while you go and beat the shit out of the suits, I will go with her to the party. I’ll make sure she has a good time, and then you can meet up with us.”
“Eli—”
“It’s 1:31. You can still make it. I have your information, and my driver will pick up Molly and me—”
“Why?” He cut me off. “Why are you going this far? We live in the same building, but we aren’t friends. You didn’t even know me when I came in here. So why?”
I thought about it for a moment, and all I could think of was Guinevere and what she had once said to me.
“Do you know how many crappy people we meet a day in this city? I don’t want to be one of them. Sometimes we just need help and it's hard asking for it, so I’m going to offer it. Accept it Toby. Don’t give up yet; what kind of example does that set for Molly? Instead of giving up when the world knocks you on your ass, sometimes it’s okay to ask for help,” I replied, stretching out my hand for him.
He looked down and swallowed. “Please help me, Eli.”
“Of course.”
As happy as I was to help him, for some reason I wanted to call up Guinevere and tell her I wasn’t as much as a pathetic asshole as she thought.
“Molly, you’re going to the party with Dr. Eli,” he said when he opened the door.
Guinevere
“Stevie?” I said when I opened my door.
“Hi,” she replied. She stood there in jeans and a t-shirt, her red hair pulled back and her eyes red and puffy.
I wasn’t sure what was wrong with her, but I walked out and hugged her tightly. She cried on my shoulder. There were about a thousand things going through my mind and all I could think was to get her to calm down.
“I have wine and chocolate, which I would rather not eat alone.” I took her hand, pulling her into my apartment. Taigi came up to her while I went for the glasses.
“Hey boy, how are you?” She sniffled and laughed, rubbing her hands through his fur. He barked in her face and stood on his hind legs for her, while she took his paw as if dancing with him.
After pouring a glass for each of us, I handed one to her. “You have to taste this, my do-not-covet thy neighbor’s father made it and it is to die for—”
I paused, holding my glass as she drank the whole thing without once stopping for air, like a woman dying of thirst. Using her hand, she wiped her lips and held it up for more.
“It’s really good.” She smiled.
“Could you even taste it?” I questioned, handing her my glass.
She didn’t drink, just stared at it. “I’m making a mistake, right Gwen? Marrying Nathaniel…I’m making a mistake.”
“Stevie, what happened?” I asked instead of answering, because I didn’t know how to answer that question.
“We got in a fight,” she whispered, holding the glass to her lips. “More like his parents and I had a fight and he just stood there while they kept going on about how they expected him to marry someone better. I wondered, is this going to be my whole life? I’m going to have to stand there and take their shit because my dad is just an electrical repairman and my mother is a baker?”
“Just an electrical repairman?” I wanted her to rethink that statement. “Remember when we were thirteen and I was staying at your house when Winter Storm Michael came in? Eight and a half feet of snow and ice, it knocked out the power, and it was so cold we shared three blankets. Your mother let us eat all the cupcakes and cookies she’d baked for school the next day while your father put on his snow boots, at least three scarves, two hats, and a ski mask.”
She covered her mouth and laughed. “He looked like big marshmallow.”
“He did, and he told us to give him a hug before he went out and worked for hours in the snow to get the power back on before nightfall because he was worried people would freeze since there hadn’t been any time to prepare. When he came back, we could pull ice off his eyebrows. Your dad isn’t just an electrical repairman, Stevie. He’s the man that keeps the fire going no matter what.”
She dropped her head, putting her glass on the table. “I know. I know. It’s just they make me feel like I’m not good enough all the time.”
“Then prove them wrong. You know what my dad says. Chin up…”
“Head high!” she said loudly, puffing out her chest before we both broke out into a fit of laughter. “Our dads are something else aren’t they?”
“Yeah they are, and they would not approve of us standing here drinking wine over men, which is why we are going out!” I said, going to my living room to grab my bag and camera.
“Going out where?”