Chain of Vengeance: Chapter Four - Part Two

SAN FRANCISCO

 

 

Molly strode down the long hallway, the anger she’d found on her morning jog intensifying the closer she got to this confrontation.

The party the previous day; finding out about Jack Catholic and the men tracking him down; the fact she and her family were going to be broke soon; the way her mother had treated her all these years... It was past time for a reckoning.

“Mother!” She knocked open the double doors into the den.

“What the matter now Molly?” Jennifer raised her head lightly off the chaise longue, her hand up to shield her eyes from the morning sunlight.

“I want to talk.” Molly came to a stop above her, letting her body’s shadow block the dazzle.

Jennifer was stretched out in her nightgown. “What do you want to talk about?” She smiled as a means of calming the waters.

“Don’t give me that smirk of yours Mother!” snapped Molly. “After everything that’s happened I deserve a lot more warmth from you!”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

Molly stepped out of the way, intentionally letting the light fall into Jennifer’s eyes. “Don’t you know? All these years and you don’t realise how you’ve treated us.”

Her mother swung her legs to the carpet, sitting up. “What are you talking about Molly? Just tell me.”

Molly walked away, her arms folded across her chest. She was wearing a dress with short sleeves and was a little warm. “I’m very angry,” she whispered. “It’s been building a long time... A long time, and I can’t ignore it anymore.”

Jennifer stood up behind her. Very quietly, she said, “Why?”

“Because you took our father away from us,” snapped Molly, turning to face her. “Whether he walked out or not; you indoctrinated us: brought us up to hate him, and now he’s dead.”

Jennifer’s hands closed around Molly’s shoulders, gentle and warm. “You had every reason to hate your father Molly,” she said. “I only let you know him for what he was.”

“And what was that?”

“A liar and an adulterer.”

“Is that true?”

Jennifer’s grip faltered. “Yes.” Her reply was weak and brittle like an old lady’s.

Molly pulled away and turned to face her, seizing the weakness. “Is it?”

“Yes!” Her mother staggered back and hid her face but there were tears on her cheeks.

“There’s something else isn’t there?” said Molly.

Jennifer moved away, shaking her head.

“Tell me mother. Please.”

“He’s dead now.”

“I know,” said Molly. “That’s... That’s why you have to tell me.”

There was a drinks cabinet against the far wall. Jennifer reached it, leaning against the hard wood surface that formed a preparation area. “I’m so tired.”

“Tell me what happened Mother. Please. I need to understand.”

Jennifer’s head was low – lower than her shoulders. Her hair covered her face completely. She raised it, showing her tears to her daughter and for a moment Molly felt a branding of doubt, pity and remorse. Then she hardened her brow and repeated the words, “Tell me.”