Behind the Scenes in The Mommy Plan
I swear to you, as I was drafting this book, I must have written chapter 13 at least five different times. I'll share some of the other bits with you. But first, here are two scenes that I really kind of liked that got chopped from the book.
Late Friday night, Molly shuffled into the dimly lit kitchen, one ear of her fuzzy bunny slippers drooping. She clutched the enormous dictionary tighter to her chest. The sharp smell of fresh-ground coffee rose from the counter. Dad poured water into the machine, then turned to stare at her. "What are you doing up? I thought you were asleep already?"
She concentrated on keeping her face appropriately groggy-looking. "I was, until I heard Miss Rachel scream in the guestroom. Didn't you hear her?"
Dad's expression tightened. "What's wrong?" He shoved the pot onto the machine so it would be ready in the morning, how he liked it, and then whirled for the archway to the dining room.
"She says there's a big, ugly bug in the half-bath, and you need to come kill it. Right now." Molly trotted to keep up with him as he headed for the stairs.
"A big ugly bug, huh?" He chuckled. "Guess we men are good for some things." He stopped on the landing and turned. "Why are you carrying that dictionary?"
"Uh, I thought you could use it to kill the bug?" Dang, she hadn't thought that one through in advance.
Dad smiled. "I think that would be overkill. Go back to bed." He hurried up the rest of the steps.
Molly followed close on his heels as he entered the guest bedroom. "Rachel? I'm here; where's the bug?"
"Bug? What bug?"
Molly dropped the dictionary to the beige carpet, yanked the bedroom door closed, and scrambled up on the fat book, gaining just enough height. The deadbolt lock Grandma had installed when Molly'd been little to keep her out of what had been the sewing room clicked shut. She grabbed the dictionary and raced back to her bedroom. Operation: Keep-'em-Close had begun.
She'd concocted the plan with Cherish's help via e-mail after both Cherish and Brook had mentioned that until her father was spending even more time with Miss Rachel, there was no way they'd ever get married.
She dumped the dictionary on the bottom bookshelf to the right of her window seat, then picked up the baby monitor. Dad sometimes still used the stupid thing to listen in on her if she wasn't feeling well. She figured it was only fair to use it on him. The other half was stashed behind the guestroom night table.
But she didn't need it to hear him banging and hollering, "Molly Elizabeth McClain, you open this door right now!"
Yikes. When he brought out her middle name, he was really ticked. She sat down at the computer and started an update e-mail to Cherish. A minute later, the ballerina picture on her wall jumped as someone - Dad - thumped on the other side.
"Molly, I mean it!" His muffled voice came from the bathroom. "I don't know what you think you're doing, but you get back here and open the door!"
"I'm doing this for your own good, Daddy," she whispered. "And mine. Please don't be mad at me."
E-mail sent, she scrambled into bed, placing the monitor on her pillow. She shut off the light and said a quick prayer that her plan would work and her wish for a new mom -- for Miss Rachel as a new mom -- would come true. Then she turned on the monitor.
"James, calm down," came Miss Rachel's soothing voice. "I'm sure she has a good reason."
"And I have a good reason to ground her for a month."
Molly grimaced in the dark. Still, that wasn't too high a price to pay. Not for getting what she wanted.
"A month? Don't you think that's a little harsh for a practical joke?"
"You're not trying to interfere with my father-duties again, are you?"
"Who me? Not at all. Is being stuck in this room with me so horrible? Gee, thanks a lot. You've wounded my fragile female ego."
A moment of silence passed, then Dad laughed. A pleasant warmth spread over Molly and she snuggled deeper under the pink-and-white checked comforter. She decided that was the best thing about Miss Rachel. Since she'd come into their lives, Dad laughed and smiled more. A lot more.
"Hmmm. You're right. If we're stuck, we might as well take advantage of it. Just to be sure," a click sounded, like the door being locked from the inside, then Dad said, "Come here."
"I hate to disappoint you, but remember earlier this week, when I told you the timing wasn't right? Well, the timing's really not right now. Sorry."
Dad groaned. "Figures. Oh, well."
The light switch snapped off, then the bedsprings squeaked. "But I can still hold you all night long. Come to bed," Dad ordered.
The squeak came again. Molly crossed her fingers. "Please, please," she whispered. "I need her for my mom."
For the longest time, she heard nothing but occasional low murmuring. Yawning, she rolled onto her side. Her eyes slid shut. Just as she was about to drift off to sleep, Dad spoke clearly again.
"Rachel?"
"Mmmm?" Miss Rachel sounded tired.
"I have to tell you something."
"Ooo, sounds serious. Especially when a guy says it."
"It is."
"Okay. I'm listening."
So was Molly. She rolled back over and repositioned the monitor.
"You are a very, very special lady."
Molly held her breath during the long silence from the guestroom. Did that mean Dad was kissing her? Without disinfecting her first?
"I'm falling in love with you, Rachel."
"Oh, James." Miss Rachel's voice caught. "Oh, James. I'm scared to say it, but...," her voice dropped in volume and Molly pressed her ear to the monitor, "I love you, too."
"Yes!" Molly spiked her fist in the air and jumped from her bed. Operation: Keep-'em-Close was a success, and her long-distance partner in crime needed to know it.
Totally worth any punishment Dad would dole out.
###
Rachel awakened to the sun streaming in the windows and the sounds of James digging through drawers of the desk. She languidly stretched, then rolled onto her side to watch him. Already dressed, he muttered to himself as he sifted through one, then another.
"What are you looking for?"
"A screw driver or hammer. Anything so we can get out of here. Maybe I can take the hinges off the door."
"Good morning to you, too, Mr. Sunshine. Yes, I slept well cuddled up with you, thank you very much."
He turned to look at her. "This isn't funny anymore, Rachel. It's seven-twelve."
"Oh." She scrambled from the bed, grabbing clothes from her week-ender luggage and dressing quickly. "And Molly needs her medicine at seven-thirty."
"Exactly."
"Shouldn't she be awake by now? Did you try banging on the bathroom wall again?"
"She should, and yes, I tried. Apparently you both slept through that."
Rachel joined in the search for a tool, but they came up empty. Just when James appeared on the edge of frantic, she glanced out the front window of the remodeled Victorian that had previously belonged to his parents. He'd bought it from them when they'd decided to move to a condo -- less upkeep. "Hey! This opens onto the roof over your front porch. We can just pop out the screen, climb onto the roof, and go down the porch support."
James joined her by the window, looked out, and blanched white. "What inspired a crazy idea like that?"
"I climbed out a few windows in my younger days."
"Rachel Thompson, I'm shocked."
"My dad would be, too, if he found out." She winked at him as she pushed the window up. "You wanna go first?"
He stepped back. "I...I don't do roofs, Rachel. I'm a psychologist, not a construction worker."
"Afraid of heights, huh?" She couldn't resist tweaking him. "Can we recondition you?"
"Well, maybe if we have sex on the roof." He offered her a quick grin. "I'm sure the neighbors would get a real thrill out of that, too." He glanced at his watch and groaned. "Two months grounding for her if I don't get her medicine to her on time."
"Okay, stop panicking. I'll go." She popped the screen from the window and set it on the floor. "Is the front door locked?"
He nodded, pulling a set of keys from his pocket. "Here. For crying out loud, be careful. And shouldn't you put on some socks?"
"Nope. Bare feet will grip better. Sneakers would be best, but since they're down in your foyer..." She shrugged and swung one leg out the window.
Once outside, she cautiously sat down, scooting down the incline on her butt. At the bottom, after locating the porch support, she rolled onto her stomach and dug her fingers into roof tiles as best she could. Slowly she wiggled off the roof until her legs dangled from the edge. She wrapped them around the wooden beam. As she eased past the gutter, one of the buttons on her blouse snagged, then popped off. "Blast and sugar cookies," she muttered, searching with one foot for the porch railing.
This had been a hell of a lot easier as a teenager. But she couldn't hold back a giggle. Talk about feeling young.
And totally alive.
"Well, this is something you don't see everyday," a deep voice said from below her. "A woman sliding off the roof. Can we give you hand, young lady?"
The feeling foolish part kicked in. One arm wrapped around the support post, Rachel squatted, then jumped from the railing onto the front porch. Face heating, she turned to discover an older couple on the steps, staring at her.
She knew immediately who they were. The woman carried a brown paper grocery bag. Her smile seemed familiar. The man had the same chin cleft and brown eyes as James.
He came onto the porch and offered his hand, clinching their identity. "We're Tom and Liz McClain, James's parents. And you are...?"
"Mortified," she mumbled.
"Rachel! Are you okay down there? If so, could you move it?" James shouted from the window.
"Of course, she's Miss Rachel," Liz McClain said. "Molly's told us so much about you."
"Rachel?" James yelled again.
"I'm coming!" she hollered back. "It's nice to meet you," she said, fishing the keys from her jean's pocket. "But right now I have to go and free your son from the guestroom."
She groaned silently at her choice of words as she unlocked the front door and stepped into the cathedral-ceilinged foyer. Oh, perfect, exactly the meeting with his folks that she'd imagined.
So much for good first impressions.
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Here's an epilogue for Mommy Plan I wrote but decided to cut because I felt the new ending I wrote had more of a punch to it.
"Two weeks. It's just two weeks, Mom." Molly squirmed from Rachel's embrace.
"I know, but I'm going to miss you." Rachel stepped back and let James hug their daughter.
Their daughter. She liked the sound of that. They'd married on Memorial Day week-end, just before the end of the school year, and though it was now mid-July, the honeymoon was far from over. The wedding had been lovely - not too overblown, but enough of a splash to make everyone - especially Molly - happy. The best man, Cord, had all the single ladies drooling over him. Michelle and family had come to town for the wedding, as had Sloan, and her nieces. Brook had actually enjoyed being a junior bridesmaid, so much that she'd agreed not to wear the eyebrow ring during the service. Sloan had been overjoyed. Brook had really been giving him problems.
The best part for Rachel had been having her father march her down the aisle this time. He'd pretended not to notice her tears of joy when he kissed her and whispered in her ear about having done it right this time, and that he was proud of her.
Waves of heat radiated up from the asphalt. The camp bus waited in the shopping mall parking lot. Crowds of parents, duffle bags piled at their feet, were saying good-byes to their kids. Most of the children appeared eager and exuberant, laughing, bouncing on the balls of their feet, and pulling away from parents' arms, but Rachel saw a few reluctant campers clinging and shedding tears.
Molly looked over James's arm at her. "Are you guys going to see Sergeant Poppa while I'm gone?"
Rachel nodded, smiling at the nickname Molly had bestowed on her new grandfather. "Next week-end. Why?"
"No reason." She shoved her dad away and made a big production of checking her bags.
Rachel knew what she really wanted to know: if they'd be going to Daniel's grave, but she didn't want to ask. James took Rachel once a month, just so she could be sure her baby's resting place was taken care of. Molly usually stayed with Sergeant Poppa.
"Don't forget to clean those ears with alcohol twice a day, Unsinkable," James admonished.
"Daad. I won't forget, not that or the million other things. Especially the meds. There's a doctor and a bunch of nurses at the camp. I'll be fine, really." She lifted her backpack from the ground. "Geez, this thing is heavier than I remember."
Rachel chuckled. "That's because I found something I thought you might want to take with you, and I stuck it in the top."
"What?" Molly lowered the bag again and the zipper rasped open. "Oh, wow, where did you find this? I was going crazy looking for it." In her hand, she hefted the cedar and Plexiglas firefly lantern Rachel had bought her at Waldameer.
"Try cleaning under your bed more often."
Molly smiled up at her, shaking the lantern, running her fingertip over the etched name of the amusement park. "That was a fun day, wasn't it?"
"It sure was," Rachel agreed. Hard to believe a year had passed. Even harder to believe she was no longer a full-time teacher, but back to being a full-time wife, mother, and a part-time substitute. And most importantly, she'd found contentment in her life again. Though she'd forever miss her son, the hole in her heart had become manageable with James and Molly at her side. Not to mention--
"I'm sure you and Cherish will have as much fun at the new camp this summer," James said
"Yeah, probably." Molly stuffed the lantern back into her bag.
"What will you wish for this summer, tiger?" James wrapped his arm around Rachel's waist. "Your wish for a mom came true."
A sly grin curved Molly's
mouth. She tapped her index finger to her chin. "I think I'll wish for...a
baby sister." She wagged the finger in their direction.
"And you've got two weeks without me around, so get busy!"
James huffed, failing to stifle a low groan.
Rachel laughed. Her husband had a tough time accepting the idea that Molly was growing up.
Would he have a tough time with the next child, too? The positive test stick was wrapped and waiting for James at home, but Molly would probably give her the silent treatment for a week if she didn't tell them both together - especially with the opening she'd just provided.
"Funny you should mention that. I was going to wait until tonight to tell your father first, but since you've brought it up..." She laid her palm on her still-flat tummy.
Molly dropped the backpack on the ground.
James turned wide eyes on her. "You mean? We're going to, to..." he sputtered.
She nodded. "We're going to."
"Yes!" Molly punched her fist into the air. "We're going to have a baby!" She pulled the lantern from the open gap of the backpack. "I swear, they're better than a genie's lamp." She rubbed her fingers over the plastic window. "Now I've just gotta make sure we get a baby girl. Cherish says Tyler is an absolute terror!"