“I’m not sure, but you have help.” Drew pressed the call button on the screen in his console and scrolled through his contact list.
Her ex, Derrick Donovan, might have a strong network of connections. But then so did Drew.
“Unbelievable.” Molly dropped her head back on the seat. “The one time the courts decide to move at warp speed and it’s for my custody hearing that wasn’t supposed to be complicated at all.”
Three calls later, his emergency crew was activated. Evie had promised to drop off cookie dough for Molly to put in the oven thirty minutes before the social worker arrived. Evie was convinced the decadent scent would put the person in a cooperative mood.
Brooke had volunteered to start the laundry and vacuum the rooms.
Nichole had offered to fill the refrigerator and pantry with wholesome foods, adding that she’d keep the wine at her house for after the site visit. Nichole had ended the phone call with a reminder for Molly to make her bed. Bed-making was the first positive task of the morning and that would start a string of positivity throughout the day. And if that failed, at least a prettily made bed gave the illusion that Molly had it all together.
Drew vowed to make his bed too and disconnected the phone call with Nichole.
“How did you do that?” Molly asked.
“What?”
“Rally your friends to help me get my place ready for the social worker.” Molly checked on Hazel, who was sleeping peacefully in her car seat.
“They aren’t rallying for me.” Drew glanced at her and noted the confusion on her face. “They’re doing it for you.”
“Why?”
“Because they really like you and Hazel.” He’d assumed she’d already known that. She had confessed he’d been her only friend several nights ago. He hadn’t really believed her until now.
“Hazel is quite easy to like.” Molly chewed on her lower lip. “It’s very hard not to like a baby.”
“Especially Hazel.” Drew reached over and gripped Molly’s hand. He’d get back in his own lane tomorrow. Tonight, he chose honesty. “It’s also really, really hard not to like Hazel’s mother.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
MOLLY RUSHED OUTSIDE and set Hazel on a blanket in the grass. Then she hurried over to Brooke and the two dogs, one a boxer and one a German shepherd that Brooke held in sitting positions.
The dogs had accepted Molly the first night she’d moved into the apartment and adored cleaning Hazel’s face. Molly had quickly learned “gentle giants” was a real term and applied to the pair who’d been determined to assist her in getting over her childhood fear of dogs.
She tucked her phone with the SOS text from Brooke on it into the slim pocket on her yoga pants and looked at Brooke. “What exactly do you need me to do?”
“I need to get a tablespoon of hydrogen peroxide down their throats.” Brooke scowled and pointed at a large brown bottle. “They ate both trays of brownies Evie had made for tomorrow’s school bake sale.”
“Chocolate is bad for dogs,” Molly guessed.
“Especially, Evie’s brownies. She uses the special baker’s chocolate.” Brooke handed the leashes to Molly. “You’re going to have to tighten your grip.”
“What are you doing?” Molly wrapped the leashes around her wrists and adjusted her hold. She peeked at Hazel, saw her daughter laughing and picking at the grass.
“I’m opening their mouths, pouring this in and waiting until they swallow.” Brooke filled a syringe with the necessary amount of hydrogen peroxide.
“And then?” Molly patted the dogs’ backs.
“You release them when I tell you to,” Brooke ordered. “The hydrogen peroxide is meant to upset their stomachs and will remove the brownies rather quickly.”
Rex, the boxer with a white muzzle and black fur framing his expressive eyes, accepted the syringe on the first try. Within moments, the dog was sprinting across the yard to heave his brownies onto the grass. Luna revealed her German shepherd intelligence and provided more of a challenge. It took three tries with the syringe before Brooke was successful, although she and Molly were splattered with peroxide in the process.
Brooke set her hands on her hips. “Luna, this is what happens when you are a bad girl. Remember this next time.”
The dog’s tongue lolled out and licked Brooke’s arm. Molly wasn’t certain but the dog appeared fine after getting rid of her forbidden brownies. Molly released Luna and the dogs seemed to console each other.
Brooke cleaned up her supplies and Molly turned around to see Cupid, Brooke’s three-legged cat, circling around Hazel and covering her in gray fur. Hazel held a dandelion in her fist and giggled. Molly laughed.
A movement at the side gate ruined her humor. A stern-looking woman from her fixed bun on the back of her head to her staid suit jacket and skirt arched an eyebrow at Molly. “Are you Ms. Molly McKinney?”
Molly wiped her hands on her yoga pants and swept Hazel into her arms. “I am.”
“I’m Gloria Serrano, from social services.” The woman eyed Molly, flicked her gaze over Hazel, then shifted slightly to scowl at the recovering dogs lazing nearby. Her voice was deep, gravelly and intimidating. “I believe you were expecting me.”
Not for another hour. Molly forced herself to smile and swallow the sudden worry coursing through her. “Yes. Let me give Hazel to my friend and I’ll be right with you.”
It was then Molly noticed Hazel chomping on the dandelion. Molly groaned and swiped the gnawed flower out of Hazel’s mouth. She hurried over to Brooke, handed her Hazel and whispered, “She’s here. Already.”
Brooke smoothed her hand over Molly’s hair. “It’s going to be fine. Go. Go. We got this.”
Molly wiped the grass off her yoga pants and twisted her hair into a loose bun. She’d planned to run the vacuum again and shower before Gloria Serrano’s arrival. At least she’d remembered the cookies. Molly opened the door to her apartment and invited the social worker inside. She motioned to the counter. “Would you like a double-chunk chocolate chip cookie?”
Gloria shook her head. Her severe bun
