He drinks. Nerves twist his stomach. Go on, he tells himself, do it. Tell her now. But he finds himself saying, I swear, Molly, every time I see you, yer more beautiful than the last time. How many hearts you broke today?
Shut up, she says, I know I’m a hag. He snorts with disbelief and she smiles at herself in the glass, pleased. Livin in this dump is playin merry hell with my looks, she says. I’ve grown old, waitin on Ike. The Lost Cause. That’s me all right, Jack, the biggest lost cause ever lived. An you know why? Fer thinkin that man might ever mean what he says. Ike Twelvetrees settle down? You might as well ask the sun to stop shinin.
Now. Tell her now. Molly, says Jack, there’s somethin I—
Oh, enough about Ike. He’ll show his face when he’s worked up his nerve. She leans her elbows on the bar. What’s this sorry-lookin object? She flicks the brim of his hat. It tumbles to the floor. That’s better, she says. Damn you, Jack, yer a handsome devil an no mistake. You an them moonlight eyes of yers.
Listen. Molly. I, uh—
D’you ever think about her? Molly says it abruptly.
He doesn’t answer. He stares into his drink.
She’d be six by now, she says. I know it’s stupid, but . . . I like to imagine how she’d be. What kind of character, y’know. Who she might take after. She had eyes jest like yers. She was beautiful, wasn’t she?
Yeah, he says. She sure was.
He takes her hand in both of his. Holds it tight and kisses it. They look at each other. The air between them lies heavy with what was. With what had never really been, but still would always bind them together.
Jack? She’s peering at him closely, searchingly. She draws back to stare at him, like something about him’s suddenly struck her. Ohmigawd, Jack. You got somethin to tell me.
He breathes out. Yeah, he says. Yeah, I do. The thing is, Molly . . . I, uh—
Well, I’ll be damned! she says. There’s a slow smile creeping across her face.
He frowns. Molly?
Ha ha! I don’t believe it! She slaps her hand on the bar. Gawdammit an hallelujah, Jack, who is she?
What? What’re you talkin about?
Don’t gimme the run around, I know you too well. Who is she? Who’s the girl? Molly spots the leather string hanging around his neck. An what’s this? She gives a tug and pulls out the heartstone, hidden inside his shirt.
Molly gazes at it. A heartstone, she says. She looks at him with wondering eyes. She gave you a heartstone.
Maybe I found it, he says.
Oh no, she says. I can see her in yer face, Jack. I can see her in yer eyes.
I dunno what yer talkin about, he says.
Hey, she says, it’s me, remember? You an me don’t pretend. We’re past that. All the time I’ve knowed you, Jack, you kept the door to that heart of yers locked up tight an the key hid away. Looks like she found it.
He says nothing. Molly waits. Then,
Keys ain’t her style, he says. She kicked the door down.
You love her, says Molly.
Oh, I dunno about that, he says. I, uh . . . huh. That sounds too safe. This don’t feel safe.
Oh. Like that, is it?
I don’t want this, Molly, he says. I . . . whatever it is, I sure didn’t go lookin fer it.
You don’t hafta, she says. If it’s meant to be, it’ll find you. We like to think we’re in charge of our own lives, but we ain’t. Not really. You should know that by now.
You couldn’t find nobody more pig-headed if you tried, he says. An she’s always thinkin she knows best, even when she don’t, especially when she don’t. She’s prickly an stubborn an everythin you’d put at the bottom of a list if you was makin a . . . a list of that kind. Which I ain’t. I didn’t.
But? says Molly.
But ohmigawd Molly, she shines so bright, he says. The fire of life burns so strong in her. I never realized till I met her . . . I bin cold my whole life, Moll.
I know, she says softly.
It’s jest that . . . aw, hell. She thinks I’m a better man than I really am.
Well, yer a better man than you think you are, she says.
She’s too young, he says. Eighteen.
Scandalous! she says. Cuz yer so old.
Age ain’t about years an you know it, he says. Anyways, settin so much store in one person . . . it’s dangerous.
Don’t you dare walk away from this, Jack, don’t you dare, Molly says fiercely. Most people don’t ever feel what yer feelin. Be with her. An if it lasts one hour, one night, a week, a month, it don’t matter. Be with her, burn with her, shine with her . . . fer whatever time’s given to you. Now. Tell me her name. Tell me.
He takes a deep breath. Saba, he says. Her name’s Saba.
Molly rests a hand on his face. Oh, my darlin Jack, she says. This . . . this is what I wanted fer you. All I ever wanted fer you. How could she resist them eyes?
She tried, says Jack. Man, did she try. But . . . listen, Molly, that ain’t why I—
A celebration! she cries. This calls fer some serious drinkin! An I mean serious!
She laughs as she slams hoochers down, setting them out in a long line across the bar. Where the hell is Ike? Ike! she hollers. Gawdammit, man, git yer hairy hide in here this minute! We’re drinkin to Jack an Saba! She starts to pour, splashing and spilling everywhere. I tell you, Jack, yer a inspiration. I’m gonna rename this place. No more Lost Cause, oh no. Not this place an sure as hell not me. From this moment on, it’s gonna be called The Hope Springs Eternal! An when Ike walks through that door – after I finish kissin him to death – I’m gonna tie him to that chair an never let him go, cuz life’s too gawdamn short an it’s about time I started takin my own advice. I might need yer help, of course, but I’m sure you won’t mind, seein how—
Molly! Jack grabs her hand. Stop, Molly, please. Dammit, Moll. Ike ain’t gonna walk through the door.
She goes still. Very still. Her smile fades. Please don’t say it, she whispers.
He can’t bear to. But he has to.
Ike’s dead, he says. He’s dead, Molly. I’m sorry.
Tear flood her eyes. Spill silently down her face. She looks at him straight.
It was a month ago, he says. No . . . a bit more. There was a . . . it was a big fight. A real one this time, not jest some tavern brawl. The Tonton.
The Tonton, she says.
We went back to Freedom Fields, he says. We burned the chaal fields. They came after us an . . . not jest me an Ike, but Saba too, an some others. We fought ’em, Molly. We beat ’em. An fer a time, fer . . . a little while, the good guys was on top. Me an Ike, the good guys. Who’d of thought it?
Me, she says. I would. I know.
He was with friends, Moll, says Jack. I was with him. I was right there an . . . he died in my arms. He died well. He went out big. The way he would of wanted to. The last thing I said to him, I . . . whispered in his ear. Molly loves you, Ike. That was the last thing he heard.
She stands there a moment. She nods once. Slides her hand free of his. I’m glad it was you told me, she says. Don’t waste no more time, Jack. Go to her. Be with her. Burn bright. Promise me.
Leave here, he says. Come with me. Please.
Promise me, she says.
I promise, he says.
G’bye, Jack. She kisses him on the cheek. Then she slips through the door into the back room and closes it behind her.