Free Be Mine by Rick Mofina Page A

clear to
her friends and coworkers that she wanted to be alone for a while. God, would
this hurting ever stop? she wondered, just as her phone rang. She’d let the
machine get it. But the caller didn’t leave a message. After a few moments, it
rang again.
    Molly stared at the ceiling. It was likely a reporter. The calls
followed the same pattern. Then a third call came. Unable to stand it, she
seized the phone.
    “What is it?”
    “Hello, Molly, it’s me, Frank.”
    Ice shot up her spine and her scalp tingled. She didn’t know what to
say. Hang up now, she told herself.
    “Are you there?” he asked.
    Her emotions swirled and she sat down. “I’d really like to talk.
Please.”
    “This is a horrible time,” she said.
    “I’m sorry. If you’d just give me a moment.”
    “I’ve got nothing to say to you. What you did, showing up the way
you did at the funeral, was stupid. What’s wrong with you?”
    “I read about it all in the papers. I tried calling you but couldn’t
get through. I had to be there.”
    “You didn’t have to be there. Your timing stinks. Let me make myself
clear. I am not interested. Leave me alone.”
    “Molly, please. I have to talk to you. I’ve changed.”
    “Stop it.”
    “So much has changed.”
    “It was a long time ago.”
    “I’m leaving town soon and I’d really like to see you before I go.”
    She slammed the phone down. She didn’t need this. Not him. Not now.
    It rang again.
    Damn it. She seized the receiver. “I thought I told you--”
    “Molly, are you all right?” Her father said.
    “Dad. Oh, I’m sorry.”
    “Is everything okay?”
    His strong voice pulled her back to Texas, to his strong arms and
his plaid shirts that smelled of fresh soap and his pipe.
    “No. Not really.”
    “You said you didn’t need me to fly out there before. How about
now?”
    “No. Thanks, Dad.”
    “You’re sure? I know you. You keep a lot bottled up, like me.”
    “I know.”
    “It’s okay to lean on someone every now and then. Hell knows I
should’ve done that when your mother passed on.”
    “I’ve got a lot of friends here, Dad. I’ll be okay.”
    “How you been getting on, really? A lot of people here have been
asking after you. And a lot of reporters been calling me, asking about you.”
    “What did you tell them?”
    “I told them all what I could. I saw no harm. I figure it’s like a
professional courtesy, seeing how you’re in the business. Our family has
nothing to hide.”
    “Right.” God, her father was so naive when it came to the media!
    “Well, I’ll let you go. Now you call me if you change your mind
about me coming out, and I’ll be on the next plane.”
    “I will, Dad. Thanks.”
    Molly was exhausted. She took a hot shower.
    Steam clouds rose around her, carrying her back through her life to
when she was seventeen and so scared. She remembered the smell of diesel, the
rush of air brakes when the Greyhound stopped in Houston. The clinic wasn’t far
from the depot. A crumbling stone building without windows. It smelled bad.
Like strong medicine. Like the vet’s office when they put down Jangles, her
cat. The soulful cries of sick puppies in their wire cages now harmonized with
the gentle sobbing of young girls in trouble.
    No one knew Molly had come to this place.
    A consultation, the nurse called it. You’re not too far along. You
have options. Read the material. But does it hurt? Molly didn’t know if she
could do this. Damn it, it was Frank Yarrow’s fault. No, it was her fault. How
could she be so stupid? She had dreams.
    Damn it, Frank.
    Stop thinking about it, Molly ordered herself as she scoured her
scalp.
    That part of your life ended in Texas. A lifetime ago.
    So why did he have to show up in San Francisco now? She supposed her
name in the news had drawn him, but God, she just couldn’t take it. An absolute
nightmare from her past on top of a nightmare in her present.

FIFTEEN

     
    In the Star newsroom Tom pushed
the story.
    He