Molly Married?

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Chapter One          

            “I can’t believe we’re doing this, Shannon. I feel like some sort of ‘psycho-stalker’.”

            “Molly, then why don’t you just walk into the airport and greet Brandon…I mean ‘Elder Mace,’ like any other normal, devoted missionary pen-pal.”

            “But that’s just it, Shannon! What’s expected of me next? Faithful pen-pal sending home-baked cookies to the mission field one minute, housewife changing diapers, finding 101 ways to prepare macaroni and cheese, and typing his term papers the next.”

            My cousin rolled her eyes, and then propped her elbow on the steering wheel of Grandma’s dark gray Lincoln—the only car we had managed to borrow for our little jaunt to Twin Falls. “Am I missing something here, Molly? Has there been a marriage proposal that I’m unaware of? Has he even stepped off the airplane and kissed his mother yet?”

            “I don’t know. I can’t make anything out through these binoculars.”

            “That’s because you’re trying to look through them with sun glasses on. Besides, we’re not going to see anything until they come out to the parking lot.” I could tell that Shannon was getting frustrated, and should I blame her? We had been sitting in the parking lot of the Magic Valley Regional Airport for the past half-hour wearing sunglasses and baseball caps, watching through binoculars for the return of Elder Brandon Mace.

“Don’t you think, Molly, that perhaps you’re overreacting just a little?” Shannon held up her hand with her thumb and index finger pinched as if she were squashing an ant. “What in the world do you possibly think could happen if you walk into that airport right now? Do you really think that he has a diamond engagement ring tucked inside his scripture case or something?”

“Okay, I’m pathetic!” I admitted.

Shannon grinned. “Tell me something I don’t already know.”

We both burst into laughter. I was reaching into my backpack for my unopened bottle of root beer when a thunderous voice exploded in my right ear. “Hold it right there, and slowly remove your hand from the bag.”

Shannon and I nearly knocked heads as we jumped in our seats. I slowly lifted the bottle of root beer out of my backpack and turned to the window where I faced the barrel of what I prayed was an unloaded gun.

Shannon found her voice first. “Is there something wrong, officer?”

“You tell me. I got a call from airport security about a vehicle in the parking lot containing two suspicious characters who seem to be staking out the airport. Now why in the world would I think there’s something wrong here?”

If I hadn’t been petrified, I’m sure I would have either laughed or cried at the entire scene playing out before my eyes. A second officer was in his “ready-to-shoot stance” outside of Shannon’s window on the driver’s side, and what must have been a reinforcement vehicle came to a screeching halt behind Grandma’s Lincoln, with lights twirling through the mid-morning sunlight.

“Officer, I think this is all a big misunderstanding. We’re just parked here, waiting for a…a friend of ours to come out of the airport.” I hated how I was stumbling over my words.

“Yeah, like a surprise.” Shannon chimed in.

I guess the root beer in my hand set the officer at ease because he returned his weapon to its proper place, then reached out and removed my baseball cap.  My strawberry blonde hair fell to my shoulders and the officer tossed my cap into my lap. “Would you two ladies mind stepping out of the car and showing me some identification? I also need to see the registration of this vehicle.”

Shannon opened her door while I fumbled in Grandma’s glove compartment for the registration. As soon as I found the document I handed it to the officer, whose eyes were hidden behind mirrored sunglasses. He opened my door as if he were my date for the prom, and I sheepishly slid out of the seat, grabbing my backpack on the way.

“If you don’t mind, I think I’d like to take a look in that,” the officer requested, nodding his head towards my backpack.

“Well, I guess I don’t mind. I was just going to get my ID out for you.”

While the one officer was verifying our identification in the patrol car—whose lights were still twirling, by the way—the other took Shannon and I to the front of Grandma’s car and gave us a little lecture on airport security. I was really starting to feel like a criminal.

 “Don’t you ladies know that an airport is no place for fooling around, especially in this day and age?” He made it sound like we were trying to sneak a pocketknife through a metal detector.

“There really is a good explanation, Sir.” I felt that calling him “Sir” under these circumstances could only help. “You see, we have a good friend flying in today. I really wanted to see him, but…I know it sounds stupid, but I didn’t want him to see me. At least not yet.”

“Uh…Molly? I think your little plan just failed,” Shannon interrupted. “I’m pretty sure Brandon is looking at you right now.”

“No.” I gasped, combing my fingers through my hair, as if it might help its rumpled condition.

Shannon nodded towards the airport doors. There stood Brandon, looking 100% like the Latter-day Saint Missionary that he was—dark suit, white shirt and tie, freshly trimmed hair, and that unmistakable missionary nametag—with his hand above his eyes to block out the relentless August rays. He was staring in our direction. But then, how could he miss our little “police-ambush” spectacle?

Brandon began to approach us, followed by entourage of family members ranging from eight months to eighty years old. Some carried balloons and banners, others toted bags or babies.

At that moment I wished for nothing more than to have someone throw a bucket of water on me so I could melt down into the asphalt like the wicked witch in The Wizard of Oz. Short of oozing into the pavement, I could see no way out of this totally embarrassing and utterly humiliating situation.

            Over the sound of an incoming airplane I heard his voice. “Molly?”

            Oh, that voice! It had been two long years since I had heard it. As he got closer, I could make out those hazel eyes—the eyes that seemed to seep into my soul and take hold of my heart. Then there was that boyish face, a little more angular now—a little stronger. And though his hair was trimmed, I could still see the crest of those brown waves that managed to fall in any which way when grown out.

            Brandon was beaming as he approached. “Molly? Is that you?” I managed a smile, but words seemed to elude me at the moment. “Is everything okay? What’s going on?”

            Perhaps due to nerves, perhaps to break the silence—I’m not sure—I began to laugh. I looked over at Shannon with a plea for help. I’m sure my cousin—and best friend— thought I was delusional, but played along, and joined in the laughter.

            “Oh, everything’s fine here,” I chuckled, “Right, Shannon?”

            “Sure.” Shannon responded as if trying to convince herself. “Everything’s just great! We had a little problem, but the kind officers were so helpful, and now everything’s just great!” I quit laughing, and just stared at Shannon through my plastered on grin. What was she talking about?

            “What happened, girls?” Sister Mace asked with motherly concern.

            “Oh, it was nothing really.” I responded. Then I looked over at Shannon. She was wringing Grandma’s car keys in her hands, as if somehow she could extract water from the metal. Then an idea hit me.

“Shannon locked the keys in the car and the officers just helped us unlock the door.” I lied. “It’s really embarrassing, but it’s over now, and we’re fine.” I glanced at the officer who, only moments earlier, had been lecturing us about airport security. Now he was propped against Grandma’s fender, apparently amused by the scene playing out before him.

 “Well, as long as everything’s okay.” Sister Mace remarked.

“Oh, we’re just fine.” Shannon concluded.

My gaze was pulled back to Brandon. His eyes had a way of reeling me in. At that moment my entire being wanted nothing more that to throw my arms around his neck, and feel his embrace once again. But the sound of the police radio and the cries of Brandon’s little nephew pulled the reality of the moment back into place.

“I was really hoping you would be here,” Brandon said with a smile. I looked down at my shorts and tee shirt and wished that I had been wearing something more attractive. But then, Brandon was never the kind of guy to concern himself with outward appearances; he could always find the value from within. It was this quality, and many others, that had drawn me to Brandon Mace the year before he left on his mission.

I returned the smile and spoke genuinely. “It’s really good to see you again, Brandon.”

During this unlikely reunion, the amused officer had stepped to the police car, turned off the twirling lights, and conferred with his partner. Now he returned to scene, and placed his hands on mine and Shannon’s shoulders. “You ladies had better be more careful with your keys from now on—especially in an airport parking lot.” He gave each of our shoulders a little squeeze and I had never felt more gratitude for our public servants than I did at that very moment.

“Thank you, sir.” I genuinely replied.

He and the other officer got into the police car, and drove away, as Brandon’s extended family started to disassemble from the group, and head to their own vehicles.

My mind would only allow my mouth to say something that I knew was certain. “I guess I’ll see you around town.” In Oakley, Idaho—population 579— that was a given.

Brandon’s smile was so irresistible. “See ya around, Molly.”

With that, the newly returned missionary and the remnants of the Mace clan loaded up his luggage in the back of their gray Explorer and left the airport.

Shannon and I just sat stunned for a few moments in Grandma’s car before one of us dared break the silence.

“Molly,” Shannon’s voice was weak, “I think I could use a tall, cold, root beer float about now. And I think you need to pay for it.”

We looked at each other soberly for perhaps ten seconds, and then gave in to the laughter that always comes so easily between two best friends.