My family is close, but whereas Molly’s is natural, mine is born more out of fear of the unknown. My older brother, Christian, died when he was nine years old. One evening, we were up in my room playing while our parents were downstairs talking. Christian left the room to go grab something. Mom and Dad found him at the bottom of the stairs a few minutes later. I was only four at the time, so my memory is fuzzy and only comes in bits and pieces. I remember Christian leaving the room because we were missing a piece of the race track we were building. He went to his room to look for it. I remember hearing him scream, and then it being abruptly cut off, followed by several thumping noises. I was getting up to see what the sound was when Mom screamed. When I made it to the top of the stairs, she was hunched over Christian, and my dad had the phone pressed to his ear.
The doctors say the vertebrae in his neck was severed, which made it impossible for him to breathe on his own. He coded on the way to the hospital, but the EMTs were able to bring him back. Along with not being able to breathe on his own, he was paralyzed, and the PET scans showed no brain activity.
It took Mom and Dad two months to make the decision to take Christian off life support. I don’t remember much about those days, except hearing Mom crying at night in their room, my father’s gentle voice trying to soothe her.
Later, I was told the night Christian died, Mom and Dad were in the living room discussing a surprise trip to Disney World for him and me.
Because of Christian’s death, my parents, especially Mom, were very clingy and strict when I was growing up. Even now, Mom calls every other day to check to see how Molly, the kids, and I are doing. It’s like if she doesn’t, she thinks something will happen.
Nancy slapping her hands on the table, pulls me from my thoughts. “Who wants dessert? I’ve got banana pudding and my special strawberry pie.”
I swear I hear a collective sigh, and despite the fact that we’ve all just eaten, there may have been some grumbling stomachs. Anyone who’s had Nancy’s banana pudding and strawberry pie, would say they are to die for.
A chorus of “I do, I do’s!” come from the kids as they bounce in their seats, throwing their hands up and waving them wildly.
I push my chair back to help with the dishes when Molly puts her hand on my shoulder. “Stay put. Mom, Lindsay, and I will take care of the dishes and bring out the dessert.”
I curl my fingers around her hand and bring it to my mouth, pressing a kiss to the back of it. Her smile is small, and her eyes sparkle with fireflies as she gathers hers, mine, and the kids’ plates and walks away.
They come back out a few minutes later, each carrying a dish or fresh silverware and paper plates. Since my eyes are on Molly, because that’s where they normally are when she’s within viewing distance, I notice her frown. It comes a split second before her eyes widen and, as if in slow motion, she tips forward. I’m out of my chair so fast it flies backward and crashes into the grill. But no matter how fast I move, I still don’t make it in time.
The paper plates and silverware fly everywhere as her hands reach out to try and catch herself. She lets out an awful cry when her hip clips the corner of a small metal table. The sound has a piercing pain shooting through my sternum, straight through my heart. The hit has Molly spinning, and I watch in horror as my mind conjures up what’s going to happen next.
I dive for her, my knees jarring, my hands darting out just in time to catch her head before it hits the concrete. My gut drops to my toes when I notice Molly’s eyes are closed and the deathly pale white of her complexion. Feet shuffle and worried glances peer down at her in my arms, but all I can focus on is Molly.
Her eyes flutter open, and her confused stare meets mine.
“Are you okay?” I clear my throat when my voice comes out scratchy.
She frowns. “Yeah, I think so.”
Nancy, who has dropped to her knees on the other side of Molly, grabs her daughter’s hand. “What in the world happened?”
“I don’t know.” Molly closes her eyes for a brief second. “My legs just sort of went rigid for a moment. It was like they were too stiff to move, but I couldn’t stop the rest of my body in time.”
“Has that ever happened before?” Douglas asks, hovering over Nancy’s shoulders.
Molly’s eyes dart to mine before meeting her dad’s. “No, not that,” she answers hesitantly.
“What aren’t you telling us, Molly?”
Instead of answering her mom’s question, Molly begins to sit up. Her wince reminds me of the hit she took to the hip. I push her back down until her head is cradled in my lap.
“Let me take a look at your hip first,” I tell her.
I lift her shirt and pull down the edge of her leggings a couple of inches until an angry red mark appears right above her hip bone, mixing in with the stretch marks pregnancy gave her. It doesn’t look bad, but I have no doubt because of the location it’s pretty sore.
“Mom?” A tearful voice comes from a few feet away. We both look over and find Gemma and Gray huddled together. Gray has his arm around her shoulders and her arms are hugging her brother tight, like she’s frightened. “Are you okay?”
I help Molly sit up, and as soon as her back is straight, she’s reaching out for our children. Nancy scoots back, giving them room, and they rush forward and fall to their knees beside their mother.
“I’m okay,” Molly says gently. “I only got a little dizzy and fell.”
Gemma lies her head on Molly’s shoulder. “You scared me,” she says with a sniffle.
Gray’s eyes are pinned on Molly, watching her closely. The boy is too smart for his britches. Always has been. Even at thirteen years old, he knows there’s more going on than what his mom said. I just wish I knew what the hell it was.
As Molly rubs Gemma’s back soothingly, she grabs the front of Gray’s shirt and pulls him forward. It breaks my heart when his face crumples and he wraps his arms around her waist, burying his face in her chest.
“I’m okay,” she whispers to the tops of their heads. “Shh….”
They stay that way for several moments. Eventually, Gray pulls back, and I help Molly lift Gemma away.
“Why don’t the two of you and Aubree help Uncle Joe take the banana pudding and pie inside and make each of us a plate. I think I want to eat inside now. The sun is getting a little hot.”
“Okay, Mom.” Gemma kisses Molly’s cheek and gets to her feet. Gray is slower to get up, the look in his eyes saying he’s not fooled.
After Joe helps the kids gather the two desserts, the three walk inside, leaving the rest of us on the patio. Douglas grabs a chair as I pick Molly up bridal style and set her on the seat. I grab another chair and pull it as close to her as I can. My nerves are still shot from watching her fall, and I want her within touching distance.
“What’s going on, Molly?” Nancy asks, settling into her own seat. Her brows are pulled down and concern laces her features. Douglas sits beside his wife, and Lindsay takes a chair on the other side of them
“We don’t really know,” Molly answers, nibbling on her lip. “I’ve been off lately.”
“How so?” Douglas asks.
“My balance has been wonky.” I grab Molly’s hand when she pauses. “And I’ve been forgetting things. Important things that I shouldn’t forget.”