Just One Girl: The Just Molly Series, #2

By Laura Leigh

Moving on includes a quiet holiday at home. Or so Molly thinks.

 

Molly no sooner arrives home for the holidays (if home is an attic bedroom at her grandmother's house) than her life begins to unravel faster than a ball of knitting yarn. Her sister begins leaning heavily on Molly to help with her wedding, her cousin needs advice about a sticky situation with a friend, and her church cantata will be a flop if Molly can't do something to help with the reception.

 

Also there's Aaron, who is sending her mixed signals, and who (she is informed) has waved goodbye to both dating and relationships with women. But if he doesn't want to be friends with Molly, why does it feel like he is deliberately deepening their relationship?

 

And then there's Nana's friend Patty. Molly has vowed to be on her best behavior, ever since the last time she and Nana helped Patty out and ended up in a holding cell. But even when Molly isn't looking for trouble, it seems to be looking for her. Unfortunately, when trouble finds her this time, Aaron is along for the ride.

 

Molly is just one girl. There is no way she can juggle all of this without dropping something unless God gives her wisdom and grace beyond her own capacity.

 

The Just Molly Series

Book 1 -- Just One Day

Book 2 -- Just One Girl

Book 3 -- Just One Life

Just an Unfortunate Misunderstanding (a short story)

• Language: English
• Publisher: Laura Leigh
• Release date: Dec 5, 2019
• ISBN: 9798201353582

Laura Leigh

Laura Leigh is a missionary in Asia. She has traveled extensively and lived in countries all over the world. She’s held lion cubs in Africa, helped with impromptu snake surgery in Cambodia, and boated down an underground river in the Philippines. She writes clean, wholesome Christian fiction.

Book preview

One

Iwoke slowly to a rising sensation of unease.

As the pale winter light of a new dawn pricked the back of my eyelids and poked questing fingers into my unconscious mind, I fought it back.

Light was bad.

Even mostly asleep, I realized this. But my dreams clung, refusing to let go of me and allow me to venture from my sleepy cocoon into the stress of a new day.

A new day?

I jerked upright in bed, tossing back the covers and mentally picking out my outfit for work in one quick, zero-to-sixty move. Light meant I was late for work and Mike Drake would be ticked off because his schedule wasn’t printed and placed exactly one inch from the top and left side corner of his desk and Geraldine will snark-mark me and...

I relaxed just as suddenly as I had woken, because just then I popped my eyes open and instead of my one-bedroom upper duplex in Milwaukee, I saw the sunrise-tinted, white-walled attic bedroom of Nana’s house in East Carrington, Pennsylvania.

And it was December 22.

And I was on Christmas vacay, far away from Mike, Geraldine, and my other coworkers at Cortez Industries Corporate Headquarters.

I was home.

Or, rather, as close to home as a girl could be when her ex-fiance’s parents have taken over her bedroom for the holidays and she’s been shuffled off to her grandmother’s house.

I sighed happily and wriggled back down into my cocoon of blankets, wishing I could snuggle just as cozily back into my dream. In it, snowflakes fell as softly as butterfly kisses, drifting down from a midnight blue sky, silvery shiny diamonds floating lazily under the golden light of a streetlamp. I tilted my face back, feeling them land gently on nose and chin while vivid azure blue eyes watched me.

Wait! I know those eyes!

I sat up again, throwing off the covers and swinging my feet to the floor. That wasn’t a dream, Molly! That was last night.

I groaned and clutched my bedhead of brown curls. Last night I had officially acted like a nitwit.

As if it wasn’t bad enough that I nearly lost my job yesterday because of those gorgeous, glamorous butter cookies with the painstakingly applied edible gold bling, I had also made a fool of myself in front of Aaron, Cliff, Bella, and the whole of Masterson Design.

However, there was an upside to the debacle. I had officially signed off on men for the rest of my life. That meant no more worrying about what they thought of me, no more trying to squeeze myself into a mold I didn’t fit, and definitely no more living in the past. Ahhh...

I blinked into the slowly intensifying light of the winter morning and sighed contentedly. I didn’t have to pursue Cliff-sanctioned perfection anymore. I could relax and enjoy life, be the me God made me to be, and choose my own nail polish colors again. I could close the volume of my life titled Cliff and at the end of my Christmas vacation head blithely back to Milwaukee with no ties to bind me.

And speaking of ties that bind, how could I even begin to wrap my mind around the fact that Aaron Werner, CEO of Masterson Design, and Ronnie Wussbaum, my childhood friend and defender, were one and the same person?

And that tonight he was going to the Christmas Chorale Concert with my parents, Nana, and me. Nana had invited him last night in the kitchen while I yawned wider than the Susquehanna River behind my hand.

That was only a few short hours ago.

I looked longingly down at my rumpled blankets and plump pillow: a red and white quilt and a soft cream afghan topped smooth white percale sheets with lace edging. Even my bed was dressed for the holiday.

It beckoned...

But no.

It was a bright new day. A clean slate. A mercies-new-every-day fresh beginning.

I stretched widely, feeling bits of my back crack, loosening my neck, letting the moments slip through my fingers and luxuriating in the restful sensation. This was what it was like to be home for the holidays.

The morning sat silent, still, and wintery beyond the flutter of red gingham and white eyelet curtains at the window. Nowhere to go. Nothing to do. Oh how wonderful it was! This Christmas, for the first time in years, I was on full holiday! No work for two weeks. I could lounge around, read good books, drink hot chocolate, talk Nana into letting me build a fire in the fireplace (if I could only get her to forget the last time I tried that), and maybe even find a place to go ice skating. It was going to be phenomenal!

I sprawled on the edge of my bed, bare feet flat on the cold hardwood floor, procrastinating that moment when I would have to venture out into the day and start making my dreams of the perfect Christmas come true.

Gird up the loins of your mind, Molly!

First things first, though.

Clothes and hair.

Coffee and quiet time with God.

Two

The smell of blueberries and coffee mingled with the low hum of voices as I rounded the balustrade of Nana’s wide stairs. Even before I could see into the kitchen, I knew Nana had company.

All I wanted was my coffee and my Bible. What I didn’t want was to run into the wrong person and be detained in conversation for hours. So I peeked around the edge of the door frame before going in.

It was good I did.

The kitchen itself lured me in with its harmlessness. It had been decorated twenty years ago with a motif of country apples, and it had never been updated. Leafy vines scrolled lazily over creamy walls, with a border of plump baskets overflowing with apples. On Nana’s green laminate countertop, a very real basket filled with a colorful variety of crispy apples replicated the theme. Also on the counter sat the pot of gold at the end of my rainbow: a coffee maker with a full carafe of dark, fragrant brew.

None of this was a problem. The problem was Nana’s guest.

Nana’s friend Patty hunched over the table with a teacup cuddled in her hands. In front of her a teabag lay on a saucer beside a half-eaten muffin. The saucer was white Corelle with a flowery green border. It was a toss-up whether it was part of Nana’s original set of dishes or a replacement piece she had picked up at one of the thrift stores she loved to frequent. 

Patty’s hand trembled as she brought the cup of tea to her mouth. Nana murmured consolatory words and reached across the table to pat her arm kindly.

I listened to the words with a great deal of trepidation.

I know it seems impossible, but nothing is impossible with God. Anyway, don’t worry, Patty. I’ll help you, and I know Molly will be willing to help too.

I stood stock still outside Nana’s kitchen, gripping the doorframe, unable to move.

On, no. Oh nononono!

The last time Nana told Patty we would help her, both Nana and I ended up in a holding cell at the police station.

Molly would not help with whatever those two were cooking up. Absolutely not!

I must have made a slight sound of dismay, because Nana looked up just then.

Here she is, she announced cheerily. Pour yourself some coffee, Molly. Pull up a chair.

I entered the kitchen warily and stuck to the edge of the counter as I headed for the coffee. Sitting at a table with those two ladies was downright dangerous. I needed to read my Bible first.

I filled a mug with coffee and added a pleasant dollop of cream and sugar. Now that I don’t have to lose weight for Cliff, I won’t have to drink my coffee black anymore. It struck me that my sister’s engagement to Cliff marked a new era of freedom in my life, and I was content to let that era begin with coffee. I sucked in a deep breath of anticipation and closed my eyes for my first sip.

Creamy. Sweet. Absolutely delic...

I spewed my mouthful into the sink in horror. What was this?

Poison would taste better!

Bad, right? Nana said drily. They kept telling me, but I didn’t believe them until Patty brought it over this morning for me to taste.

"What is it?" I hastily emptied my mug down the drain.

Blueberry Bramble Coffee from The Village Café.

"But... why?" I asked, mystified.

The Village Café had the best coffee in town. Arguably the best coffee in the whole county. Why would they switch to something like this?

I yanked the carafe from the coffee maker and dumped the whole pot down the drain, watching it swirl swiftly before disappearing. Good riddance!

New manager, Patty said. She sounded as upset as I felt. Name is Randolph Rodgers. He’s a bear. Olivia told me that he’s hard to work with, and she’s sweet as honey, with never an unkind word for anyone, so I’m guessing it is much worse than that. She said he’s selling this new coffee because it is cheaper than what they used to sell. More profit.

Not if nobody buys it, I pointed out.

It smells good, and the new manager doesn’t drink coffee. Olivia says it will take a month or two for them to feel the financial hit.

That’s not a sustainable business strategy. I dug in the refrigerator for Nana’s old standby, Folgers. It would definitely be the best part of

Reviews for Just One Girl

[Yohana Ekky · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

I can't get enough of this! Molly and Aaron, what are you guys waiting for? ? I love Molly's genuine traits, how she supports Aaron, and on the other hand, Aaron's a gentleman in everything he does for Molly. I love their families too! ?