Maybe It's Magic

Chapter 11

Molly turned back to crumbling bacon. It was greasy work, but it was something to get her mind off things. "If only it was working," she grumbled.

"What? You're doing great so far. It's like I have my own little purple-haired sous chef." Her mom reached over to ruffle her hair.

Ugh! It was one of the hazards of being a short person with short hair. People always felt way too free to do that, even her own mother who should know better. Molly threatened to do it back with bacon fingers and stopped that nonsense.

Her mom put her hands up. "Okay, okay!"

"Seriously, though. Am I doing this right?" Molly held out her greasy hands.

Her mom considered her. "It might be easier if you crumble it using a paper towel, take more grease off the bacon and put less on you."

Molly bowed her head to her mom as she grabbed a paper towel. "That's why you're the head chef."

Her mom chuckled. "And don't you forget it."

"At least it's going way better than my attempt to make lunch for you last Mother's Day." She'd obviously inherited her culinary instincts from her dad. At least he was enthusiastic about making breakfast or barbecuing. Molly had little enthusiasm and even less skill for any of it. 

Deb Doyle laughed. "I think mac & cheese soup was an interesting idea. I'll have to work out the logistics of it one of these days."

"It wasn't an idea, Mom. I just didn't see the part on the box about draining the water." Yes, a terrible chef. She couldn't even make boxed macaroni. 

"You just need some guidance. I'll keep an eye on you so you don't go rogue."

"I'll even do the cleaning up. That's a sous chef thing, right?"

Deb nodded, considering. "Yes. Laundry is also a sous chef thing, so are toilets and dusting under the couch and cleaning out my car."

"Okay. Don't push it." Of course, at this point, Molly might eagerly do all of that and more, just to keep her mind off Jake and how many hours it had been, which was twenty-eight now.

"So why purple?" her mom asked.

To calm my damn self down!

"Just an easier transition from red," she lied. "It was too hot for red hair."

"Well, it's... cute! But maybe try a lighter purple for summer. Like a lavender. I could get you a matching pastel palette." Mom was trying, but Molly knew she didn't exactly get it. Molly had tried to explain it several times now – that, for her, changing her hair color was like changing clothes.

Maybe it was like how Jake was with that stupid crystal, but Molly was almost convinced her red hair had brought about that whatever-the-hell from the other day. Like a red cape in front of a bull, but not just for Jake... She'd joined in pretty enthusiastically, hadn't she?

No surprise.

She'd been crazy about him for too long to get sane now. Even back in second grade, the symptoms had been there.

Come to think of it, the other girls weren't to blame. It was really her mom who made it worse. The other girls might have teased Molly about having a crush. Her own mother had actually defined the thing and started the torture...

******************

Second Grade...

******************

"No. No, I'm not... I'm not crazy." Molly shook her head. 

"Oh, sweetie. I never said you were crazy," her mom said.