Chapter Seventeen

M olly stood beside Friday at the depot, wondering why she'd agreed to travel to Dundee to meet his parents. What had she been thinking?

Clearly, she hadn't been, at least not with any sense. What if his mother detested her? Or his sisters hated her? What if his father took one look at her and found her unsuitable for his only son?

Nerves roiled in her stomach until she thought she might be ill.

She swallowed hard and reached for Friday's hand. He squeezed her fingers, and she felt both strengthened and comforted by his presence beside her.

Did it matter if anyone else in the world liked her as long as Friday loved her? Ultimately, no, but she hoped his family would find her suitable.

Molly had so hoped she and Friday could sit down and have a frank discussion about their future. About what they both wanted. What they both dreamed.

It just seemed like they hadn't had a chance in Pendleton before they left, and that type of conversation was better held somewhere other than a noisy train car.

There was a part of Molly that was glad they hadn't gotten around to a serious discussion because she felt as though she couldn't plan for a future with Friday until she figured out what she wanted to do with her life.

She'd only been home a few days, and with Friday's arrival, things had been busier than usual. Molly had a feeling when things settled down and she was forced into a routine of everyday living, she was going to find it terribly boring. After the excitement of working with the Signal Corps, after doing something so important that had literally saved hundreds of lives, the thought of sitting at a switchboard answering a call for someone asking the time or telling two sweethearts to wrap things up because they were tying up the line seemed impossibly boring and mundane.

Molly had eaten a steady diet of excitement from the moment she enlisted until she arrived back in New York. Now she wondered if she'd feel starved for it. She couldn't think of any job she could do that would be nearly as riveting as the one she'd held the past year.

But until she could settle on what she wanted, it was going to be difficult to open her life to Friday and share it with him.

However, she loved him so deeply and completely, so faithfully and fully, she couldn't bear to think of spending a future without him in it. She needed Friday. It wasn't just a sense of longing or yearning for him.

She needed him.

When they were together, Molly felt whole. She felt a peace in her restless spirit that was otherwise lacking.

Perhaps what they both needed was simply time to court like a normal couple would. How would that be possible when she lived in Pendleton and he was in Dundee?

From what Molly had pried out of Nik when she'd phoned him early that morning was that Friday needed to rest if he wanted to heal. He needed nourishing food, which he was getting, air and sunshine on his wound, which he wasn't.

Molly knew Friday was as terrible at sitting still as she was, maybe even worse. It would be hard for him to take time to rest.

His pride would keep him from doing that in Pendleton. He could stay at Dogwood Corners indefinitely, but he wouldn't allow himself to because he'd feel the need to earn his keep, and for him to do that, he'd insist on some sort of physical labor.

Well, Molly fully intended to make sure his parents knew what Nik had prescribed and hoped they would make Friday follow it to the letter.

Molly's mind was a jumble of thoughts as Friday cupped her elbow and guided her down the steps and away from the depot. He waved to a woman across the street who looked so much like him Molly would have known she was Friday's sister if she'd bumped into her in Pendleton instead of Dundee.

"Hi, April! I didn't expect to see you." Friday gave his sister a hug, then placed his hand on Molly's back. "Molly Thorsen, this is my sister, April. April, this is my Molly."

A little spurt of pleasure flowed through Molly when Friday referred to her as his. She smiled and held out a hand to his sister. April ignored it and instead gave Molly a friendly hug.

"You're even prettier than your photograph," April said when she pulled back but kept her hands on Molly's shoulders. She glanced at Friday and grinned. "She's beautiful, Friday. Absolutely beautiful."

Molly blushed, and Friday looked quite pleased with his sister's appraisal.

"You get stuck as our ride today?" Friday asked as he set his bag and Molly's in the back of April's automobile.

"Sure did. Ma thought Molly would appreciate riding in my auto more than the wagon."

"I don't mind riding in either, but your auto is wonderful," Molly said as April got behind the wheel of the car. She took a seat next to the woman, then Friday slid in beside Molly.

"My husband likes to think he's quite up-to-date on anything modern. We got this auto in the spring. I adore it, but Adam, despite what he says, still likes driving the buggy better than the auto." April looked over at Friday. "I've been trying to convince Pop they need one."

"They do. Ma could tootle into town whenever she pleased and wouldn't have to hook the horse to the buggy. Besides, Pop would enjoy driving an automobile if he had one."

"He would, and I agree, but you aren't going to convince them of that," April said as she drove out of town. "We thought you might appreciate a quiet supper without all of us converging on you. You owe me, little brother."

"I do?" Friday asked, leaning around Molly. "For what?"

"I convinced January to come spend the night at our house. I promised to help her try new hairstyles and to let her look through my dress patterns."

"I do owe you, April. Thank you so much."

Molly listened to the conversation with interest, wondering why April felt it important to get January out of the house and keep her occupied. Friday had said a few things that made her think his younger sister was driving him crazy, but she knew he loved all his sisters.

"You're welcome. Just remember it one day when I come to you asking for a favor."

"I will, April. Thanks for picking us up today. How did you manage that without January tagging along?"

"She's at Mabel's house this afternoon. I'm to collect her on my way home."

"Lucky you." Friday smirked. "I'd feel sorry for Mabel, but that girl is as empty-headed as January."

"She is!" April agreed, and the siblings chuckled.

Before Molly could think of a tactful way to ask questions, April turned off the road onto a lane and drove toward a pretty farmhouse painted a shade of green that made it look like it was part of the landscape. There was a pasture near the road, and behind the house were acres and acres of nut trees growing in a rolling landscape that looked nothing like the hills in Pendleton.

"It's beautiful!" Molly exclaimed. "Look at the trees!"

"So many trees," April said dramatically, then grinned. "I hope you like walnuts or hazelnuts because it's likely dessert will include one if not both of them."

"I do like nuts. After all, I must to stick with this guy." Molly pointed to Friday.

April laughed so hard she almost drove into the fence before she corrected the wheel. She looked over at Friday. "I like her."

"Join the club, but stay on the road, if you please," Friday said as one hand clasped the door in a death grip.

April got them safely to the house and stopped out front. While Friday grabbed their bags from the back, April leaned close to Molly and whispered, "Thank you for caring for Friday. We all think he's the cat's pajamas and deserves a world of happiness. When he mentions you, his whole face lights up." She leaned back, then said in a loud voice, "We'll see you tomorrow. Be prepared!"

Friday extended a hand to Molly, and she got out of the car, then waved to April as she left.

"Ready?" Friday asked as they faced the house.

Molly nodded, and they strolled up the walk and porch steps. The door swung open, and a sweet-faced woman who was plump and pretty smiled at them in greeting.

"Oh, Friday! She's beautiful," Fiona Fitzpatrick said, then turned to Molly and took her hand between both of hers. "You're just lovely, Miss Thorsen. May I call you Molly? You are Molly, aren't you?"

Friday threw his arm around Molly and winked at her, then turned to his mother. "Sorry, Ma. I meant to say Melly in the telegram. I met a girl named Melly, and here she is!"

Fiona swatted Friday on the arm, then shook her finger at him. "If you were fifteen years younger, I'd turn you over my knee, young man. Don't you joke like that. I recognize Molly from her photograph." She turned to Molly again. "But it doesn't do you justice. Come in out of the heat. I've just about got supper on the table."

"Molly, meet my mother, Fiona Fitzpatrick," Friday said, giving his mother a pointed look that Molly couldn't decipher.

"It's lovely to meet you, Mrs. Fitzpatrick. Thank you for opening your home to me on such short notice and for your kind words." Molly smiled at Friday's mother. "I hope you will call me Molly."

"You're even sweeter than I imagined," Fiona said as she led the way inside the house. "Friday, take the bags upstairs. We'll put Molly in June's old room."

"Yes, ma'am," Friday said and hurried upstairs while Molly followed his mother down the hallway to the kitchen. Molly removed her hat and gloves, then looked around for a place to set them out of the way along with her handbag.

"Land sakes! Where are my manners? I do apologize, Molly. I'll have Friday run your things up to your room. You can wash up right across the hall."

"Thank you, Mrs. Fitzpatrick," Molly said. She heard Friday coming down the stairs and met him in the hall with her things. "Would you mind taking these upstairs too?"

"Not a bit, Mame." He kissed her cheek and turned to go back upstairs.

Molly ducked into the bathroom, surprised to find one in the older farmhouse. She quickly used the facilities, washed up, and returned to the kitchen, hoping to have a moment to discuss Friday's health with his mother, but he was there, setting plates on the table.

"How may I help?" Molly asked and was given the task of placing napkins and cutlery on the table.

Friday was pouring glasses of milk for himself and his father while Molly filled glasses with lemonade for herself and Fiona when the back door opened and quietly shut.

Molly could hear water running in the bathroom, then a heavy tread on the floor before a man who looked like a much older version of Friday entered the kitchen.

"Howdy! You must be our Friday's Molly. It's sure a pleasure to meet you." Aiden Fitzpatrick held out his hand in greeting, and Molly gave it a firm shake.

"Thank you, sir. I'm grateful for the opportunity to meet you both." Molly smiled. "Your farm is absolutely lovely."

"Thank you, Miss Thorsen."

"Molly. Please call me Molly," she said, and his father smiled, clearly pleased she wasn't one to stand on formalities.

"Molly, it is," Aiden said. "You should see the farm in the fall. The hills are aflame with beauty when the leaves change color after a good frost or two."

"Oh, I hope I can see that someday. It sounds breathtaking," she said, then sat in the chair Friday had pulled out for her.

She watched as Aiden pulled out a chair for Fiona. When everyone was seated, they joined hands, and Aiden offered a heartfelt prayer that included thanks for Molly joining them and Friday's safe return home.

Throughout the meal, Aiden asked about Pendleton. Both Friday and Molly answered. Excitement filled Friday's voice and expression as he talked about his wheat harvest experience the previous day. Aiden and Fiona laughed when he tattled on Molly for spraying the hose on him and Harley John.

That led to a discussion about what it was like to fly in Harley John's plane and the surplus of planes the Army was selling. Molly wondered if air transportation would open up new careers. Harley John had heard the postal service might hire pilots to carry the mail.

It all seemed so innovative and exciting. Molly wished she could think of some way to be part of it, but she had no desire to fly in an airplane. She had never been overly fond of heights, and she'd seen too many planes crash in the war to think they were entirely safe.

April had been correct when she'd said dessert would include nuts. Fiona had baked a hazelnut cake topped with a chocolate glaze and chunks of toasted nuts. She served it with dollops of fresh whipped cream.

Molly took one bite and closed her eyes, savoring the texture and flavor. She opened her eyes to find the three Fitzpatrick family members watching her. "It's divine, Mrs. Fitzpatrick. Would you be willing to share your recipe? I've never tasted anything quite like it."

Fiona beamed. "Of course, I'll share the recipe with you, darling girl. It's one of Friday's favorite cakes. I'm so glad you like it."

"I do. The cake is so moist, and the chocolate glaze is perfection."

"Molly likes chocolate," Friday said, smiling at her as he forked a bite of cake.

Molly offered to help with the dishes while Friday went out to help his father with a few chores, and she jumped on the opportunity to speak to his mother about his injury.

"Mrs. Fitzpatrick, I don't know if you are aware, but Friday has an open shrapnel wound on his side. The only reason I know is because it started bleeding yesterday afternoon. We had my cousin Nik, who is a wonderful physician, come take a look at it. Nik told Friday he needs to rest and not strain it if he wants it to heal. He also gave him some salve and bandages to put on it, but Nik thinks sunshine and airing the wound will likely benefit it as much as anything. I just wanted you to know, because I don't think Friday is apt to impart that information to you or Mr. Fitzpatrick."

Fiona had been drying dishes and putting them away as Molly washed. She set down the plate in her hand and gave Molly a hug around her shoulders. "Thank you, Molly, for sharing that with me. I wondered. I've found his shirts sometimes wet and wadded up in the hamper, but he usually wears dark colors, so if there was blood on them, I suspect he washed out the stains before I could see them. I've found blood on his sheets a few times, and he said it was from a scrape, but I had no idea. He never lets us see him without his shirt on. Is it bad, Molly?"

Molly shrugged. "I think it could be bad if he doesn't allow himself a chance to heal. He did say that tissue has grown over the wound a few times, but then it breaks open and bleeds again. Nik said the fact the wound is trying to heal is a good sign. I wish my sister were home. Sadie would know exactly what to do to help, but she's still in France."

"Oh, lands! I nearly forgot about that. Why on earth didn't Friday ask her when he saw her in March?"

"That is an excellent question only your son can answer." Molly glanced outside, then back at Fiona. "Please don't tell him I told you, but I thought it was important for you and Mr. Fitzpatrick to know. Every time he strains his side, it's hampering the healing."

"I'll figure out how to accidentally on purpose see the wound, then he'll have to tell us, and I'll discuss it with Aiden. He'll make sure Friday rests until it heals. I'm grateful to you, Molly, for caring for our boy. He is quite fond of you, as I'm sure you are aware."

"I am, and the feeling is definitely reciprocated."

They finished the dishes and had just taken a seat on the back porch, where the breeze was refreshing when Friday and his father walked around the corner of the house discussing cattle breeds.

Molly was exhausted. She'd been home only a few days, and here she was on a new adventure. All the rush and hurry was starting to catch up to her.

Friday must have sensed her weariness because he took her hand and pulled her to her feet. "I'll walk Molly up to her room. She's barely had a moment's rest since she got home earlier in the week."

"Sleep well, Molly, and if there is anything you need at all, please let us know," Fiona said, rising from her chair to give Molly a hug and kiss her cheek.

"Have a pleasant night, Molly," Aiden said with a smile so like Friday's.

"Thank you both. Good night."

Molly let Friday lead her inside and up the stairs. He showed her to a room at the end of the hall.

When she looked inside, she was surprised to see a quilt made from a dozen shades of blue and pale-blue ruffled curtains swaying in the breeze from the open window.

"It's a lovely room, Friday. Thank you."

"I know how much you like blue, Mame. Although, I think Ma chose this room because it is the farthest from mine, and I'd have to sneak past her and Pa's room to get in here. If you need to use the bathroom in the middle of the night, here's a candle and some matches." He pointed to a candle on the bedside table. Although it was still light out, darkness wouldn't be long in coming.

"Thank you, Friday. I'll brush my teeth downstairs, then be ready for sleep. I'm glad you invited me to come. Your parents are wonderful."

"Pop said the same thing about you. He thinks you are, to quote him, ‘A grand girl you'd be a blithering numbskull to let get away.' I'm guessing Ma is equally as pleased to meet you." Friday gave her a hug and a quick kiss. "You look completely bushed, Molly girl. Sleep as long as you like in the morning, then we'll do a little exploring. How does that sound?"

"Perfect." She kissed Friday's cheek, then watched as he left the room.

Molly quickly gathered her toiletries and hurried downstairs to the bathroom. Once she returned to the bedroom, she closed the door, changed into one of the lovely nightgowns her mother had made for her, and climbed between the crisp sheets of the soft bed. She closed her eyes and fell asleep dreaming of walking hand in hand with Friday along a lane lined with dogwoods.