“Molly darling, are you ready?”
It was more of a subtle command more than a question, and she knew that. The second it left her mother’s lips, Molly stood up straight and her face tightened into a practiced smile. She didn’t say a word, only looking back at her mother and nodding curtly in confirmation. Had anyone taken a moment to delve just an inch deeper into her, they would have been able to tell just the opposite. Molly Harrington was not okay.
She didn’t want to go to Buttercombe Academy, she was being forced. By her own mother, no less. Of course this shouldn’t have been much of a surprise to her when news of her enrollment reached her ears—Molly had been forced to do things her entire life that she didn’t want to do.
Like smiling. As in, right now she had to put on her cutest, pageant-winning smile so as not to offend Mother’s old classmate by appearing as if she wasn’t enthralled with the prospect of attending her fancy school. Which she wasn’t. But to her mother, hand still gripped tightly in hers, the idea that her youngest daughter wasn’t in favor of attending yet another private school didn’t even seem to register.
“That’s my girl.” Her congratulations seemed to stem from polite conversation rather than actual pride, her voice tone and lady-like as always, “My little Harrington girl, all grown up… be a dear and get the door for Mommy, would you Molly?”
The girl could only sigh and comply with her mother’s demands, stepping in front of her and grabbing the handle on the heavy oaken door before stepping back and allowing her mother the ample amount of room she required. With heaving clumsy footsteps, Molly’s mother trudged into the doorway like a hippopotamus wading through mud. Suddenly though, her slow pace came to a complete halt as Molly heard a gasp within the Headmistress’ Office.
“Verruca?”
“Polly!”
Taking steps faster now than Molly had seen her take in years, Mrs. Harrington’s mighty shape bounced through the doorway and into the office completely. Inside became a loud series of ‘oohs’ and ‘ahs’ and vapid laughter as her mother reunited with an old friend—one that Molly had the misfortune of hearing all about on the long drive from the airport.
Stepping inside the doorframe, Molly was met with the sight of her mother embracing a stout blonde woman in a yellow business suit. Her hair was platinum blonde and done in a little bun. She seemed to have wrapped herself around Mother merrily, swaying slightly as the two of them hugged like the old prep school roomies that they were. Breaking their reunion, the Headmistress looked up to acknowledge Molly with a smile.
“Oh and you must be Molly.” She said with a smile, “Come in, please come in.”
The brunette gulped, mentally bracing herself for at least twenty minutes of what she expected to be absolute torture. Moving one thick leg in front of the other and officially taking her first step inside the office, it did not escape her that her stomach had been through the threshold by a good six inches before her foot had. With a few awkward steps Molly was soon inside completely, standing there plainly while she waited further instruction.
“Go on, girl, sit down.” Her mother snipped at her from deeper into the room, already having picked her seat from the two that sat in front of Mrs. Polluck’s intimidatingly wide desk, “You’ll have to excuse her, Polly, she’s very nervous.”
“I’ll bet she is.” ‘Polly’ agreed with a painted smile as Molly took her seat next to Mother, “What with you being a Busy Bee yourself, and her two sisters… why I’d say she had every right to be!”