Chapter 27
Poppy
Life With You by Kelsey Hart
Iwake up to an empty, cold bed beside me. My hand slides across the sheets and finds nothing but cool cotton. My heart gives a slight, stupid lurch when I hear the soft crying down the hall.
I sit up and pad into the living room, blinking against the low light of the table lamp. Ollie’s standing there in yesterday’s clothes, hair a mess, eyes glassy and looking overwhelmed. Ellie’s tucked against his chest, wiggling and fussing.
“I can’t get her to settle,” he whispers frantically. “I fed her, checked her diaper, and walked her around. I think I broke her.”
I smile gently and step closer. “You didn’t break her.”
I take Ellie from him. The second she’s in my arms, she quiets, blinking up at me like she’s reassessing the situation. Ollie exhales hard, his shoulders sagging with relief. I look at the clock, and it’s two am.
“You’re on shift tomorrow,” I say softly. “Or today. Go back to bed. I got her.”
He hesitates. “I don’t want to leave you.”
I guide him down the hall and toward the bed. “You’re not leaving us. You’re right here. And I’m off tomorrow. There’s no school.”
He sits, then immediately tips sideways and rests his head against the pillow like his body finally gave up pretending it could stay upright. I rub my hand along his arm, slow and steady.
“You take care of us,” I murmur. “Let us take care of you, Ollie.”
His eyes flutter. “Okay,” he whispers.
He’s asleep in seconds.
I gently tuck a blanket around his shoulders and press a quiet kiss to his hair. Then I carry Ellie into the living room and sink into the couch, pulling a blanket around us.
She studies me seriously, tiny brow furrowed like she’s trying to figure me out. I brush my thumb along her cheek, and she relaxes, warm and trusting in my arms.
“I love you, sweet girl,” I whisper. “I know you already have a momma out there somewhere. But I hope it’s okay that I love you, too.”
I kiss the top of her head, breathing her in, and rock us both as the house settles into quiet.
This baby is the best and most confusing thing to happen to us, and yet, I love her so much.
The next morning, I’ve got Ollie’s truck pulled into the bay, and my coffee is balanced closely on the workbench like a lifeline.
He took my truck to work so I could finally fix his with the part that just arrived.
Owen’s in the office with Ellie playing a game on my computer while he keeps an eye on her for me.
She’s got her days and nights mixed up, it seems. She’s sleeping most of the day and up at night.
So, that’s fun. If I play my cards right, it should just take me under an hour to fix, and we can all go upstairs and take a nap.
Unfortunately for Ollie, he’s working, but if he has a slow day, maybe he can catch a nap.
It’s a day off from school for training that I didn’t have to attend, so I’m glad to be home and catch up.
Ellie’s asleep in her carrier in the office, tiny chest rising and falling, completely unaware she’s already spending quality time in a mechanic’s shop just like Owen did as a baby.
I keep the door cracked, wiping my hands on a rag between steps, checking on her more than necessary.
Owen gives me a thumbs up when he sees me and rolls his eyes the next few times I peek in.
I’m halfway under the hood when the bell over the front door rings. I have the closed sign up so I can focus on this, but this person must not have seen it.
I straighten and wipe my hands on a rag before turning around.
A woman stands just inside the doorway.
She’s about my age, maybe a little younger.
Slim, but not in a polished way. More like she’s been running on fumes for a while.
Her dark hair is pulled into a low, messy knot that looks like it’s been redone too many times.
She’s wearing an oversized hoodie and leggings, the fabric stretched thin at the elbows, like comfort won out over everything else this morning.
Her arms are wrapped tight around herself, shoulders hunched, eyes darting around the shop like she might bolt at any second.
Then her gaze lands on the truck in the bay.
And sticks.
“I’m looking for Ollie Kendrick,” she says quietly.
My stomach drops hard enough that I have to brace myself against the workbench.
Of course you are.
A flash of heat goes through me before I can stop it. Something sharp and protective that makes my spine straighten. This is my space. My shop. Ollie’s truck. Ollie’s life. And suddenly there’s a stranger standing in the middle of it.
I keep my voice steady. “He’s not here right now.”
Her eyes flick to me, sharp despite the nerves, like she’s weighing whether I’m lying. “Isn’t that his truck?”
“Yeah,” I say. “That’s his.”
She swallows, glancing around again, fingers tightening in her sleeves. When her eyes meet mine, they’re glossy and frantic, like she’s been holding it together by sheer will.
I hesitate.
Then I ask, softly, “Are you Madison?”
Her face crumples just a little at the sound of her name. She nods.
Fear flashes across her expression, raw and unguarded, like she’s bracing for bad news. “Do you know if she’s okay?”
That’s the moment something inside me shifts.
I really look at her then. The dark circles under her eyes. The way her hands are trembling just slightly. The exhaustion that clings to her like she hasn’t slept properly in days. She’s not confident or smug or trying to stake a claim.
She’s terrified.
“She’s okay,” I say gently. “Are you okay?”
Her shoulders sag, the question hitting harder than anything else so far. Like no one’s thought to ask her that.
“She is?” she whispers.
“She’s beautiful,” I say. “She’s sleeping right now.”
Tears spill instantly, fast and uncontained. She presses a hand to her mouth, breath hitching. “Can I… can I see her?”
I hesitate.
Not because I don’t feel for her. But because this is complicated. Because a dozen thoughts collide at once. How much this changes things. How protective I already feel.
But underneath all of that is something quieter and undeniable. If that were my baby, I’d burn the world down to see her.
“Yeah,” I say finally. “You can.”
Relief floods her face so fast it almost knocks her sideways. She nods quickly, tears still falling. “Thank you.”
This woman isn’t a villain. She’s a mother who looks wrecked and overwhelmed and desperate to know her baby is okay.
I lead her to the office and gently open the door wider. Owen looks up from my chair and Ellie sleeps on top of the desk in her carrier, peaceful and perfect with a blanket tucked around her. Madison steps closer, hands trembling, tears sliding silently down her cheeks.
“Oh,” she whispers. “She really is okay.”
I don’t say anything, firing off a text to Ollie that she’s here. I don’t know her, and I don’t know what her intentions are with Ellie. Weston said she can’t come and take her, but I don’t want to risk anything, especially without Ollie here.
Me: Madison is here at the shop. Do you want to come talk to her?
Ollie: On my way. Don’t let her leave.
“She’s very loved,” I say quietly, sliding my phone back in my pocket.
Madison nods, wiping at her face. “I didn’t know what else to do. I couldn’t keep her.”
Owen watches all of this curiously and asks her, “Is that your baby?”
She nods, blinking back tears. “I can’t keep her, though.”
“It’s okay,” I say, because honestly, I have no idea what to say. I want Ollie to get here. He’ll know what to say.
She looks at me for a while. “Wait, you’re Poppy. I’ve seen you around.”
I nod. “Yeah.”
Madison exhales, a shaky sound that feels like relief and grief all tangled together. And I know, standing there in the quiet of the shop, that this moment was always coming. And that nothing about this is going to be simple.
I close the office door behind us to keep the heat in and keep my voice gentle. “What happened, Madison?”
She stares at Ellie for a long second, as if looking away will let the courage leave her. “I don’t want kids,” she says, words tumbling out now. “Not now or ever. I can’t be a mom. I was scared. I didn’t know what to do.”
Her voice breaks, and she presses a hand to her mouth, shoulders shaking. “I didn’t know how to do this. I was afraid. Then at the hospital, I freaked out. I had to get out of there.”
I nod slowly, letting her talk. But I don’t understand. And I’m not sure I ever will. But this woman brought Ellie to us, so for that I am grateful.
“I just needed to know she’s okay,” she says through tears. “That she’s safe. That I didn’t ruin her life before it even started.”
“She’s okay,” I say softly. “She’s fed and warm and loved. She’s going to be just fine. Ollie’s a good brother and Cami is a great sister. She’s my best friend.”
Madison’s knees buckle a little, and I step forward without thinking, wrapping my arms around her. She cries into my shoulder, quiet and wrecked and human.
Owen looks at us with concern. He mouths to me, “Is she taking her?” and glances at Ellie, nervously.
I shake my head gently at him.
“You guys must think I’m a monster,” she says as she sobs.
“We don’t think that,” I whisper.
She nods against me, crying harder for a moment, then slowly pulls herself together. I keep my arms around her until her breathing steadies.
“I’m glad you came to check on her,” I say. “She’s okay. I promise.”
Madison wipes her face and looks back at Ellie one more time, love and grief tangled together in her eyes.
“Thank you,” she says.
I squeeze her once more. “Sure.”
I glance toward the bay door just as the firetruck pulls up out front. A couple of the guys hang back, pretending not to stare, giving space in that quiet, respectful way they do when they know something big is happening.
Ollie comes through the door a second later, eyes already searching. He stops the second he sees Madison kneeling down by the carrier, Owen watching over them as if he’s Ellie’s personal bodyguard.
She stiffens, and her face crumples when she sees Ollie standing there.
“I’m sorry,” she says, the words breaking apart as they come out.
“I didn’t know how what to do. I tried to tell your dad, but he said he wanted nothing to do with her.
I knew you were his son, and I just told the hospital to call you. ”
Ollie takes a deep breath. He looks steady, grounded, like he’s holding himself together when I know he’s angry that she didn’t tell him, and he had to find out as he did.
“We’re keeping her,” he says firmly.
Madison nods immediately, tears sliding down her cheeks. “Okay.” She wipes at her face. “Can I… can I check in from time to time? To know she’s okay?”
Ollie doesn’t hesitate. “Yeah. But we need to do this the right way. I need to know how to reach you so we can handle everything legally. I have a friend who can help us, and we’ll take care of everything. You just need to sign.”
She nods again. “Okay.”
Relief fills me that she’s not going to fight us on any of this. I can see it in Ollie’s eyes, too.
Then she hesitates, voice dropping. “What’s her name?”
Ollie smiles, soft and proud. “Ellie.”
He glances over at Owen, who’s perched on a stool guarding, then at me. He checks us both, as he always does, to make sure we’re okay.
I give him a small smile and nod.
Madison hands him her contact information, fingers shaking. He takes it, nods once, and that’s it. She takes one last look toward Ellie, then turns and leaves. She looks relieved and exhausted.
Ollie crosses the shop in three long steps and pulls me into his arms. He holds me tight, forehead pressed to mine.
“I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “Were you guys freaked out?”
I shrug a little, honest. “Yes and no. I was worried she would change her mind and try to take her.”
“Weston says she can’t,” he says firmly. “But hopefully she signs everything and moves on. No hard feelings. I just don’t want Ellie to be confused growing up. I will keep her updated, but she’s not going to be in her life.”
I nod against his chest, relieved.
He kisses my hair and holds on a second longer, like he’s grounding himself again. “She’s ours.”
Out in the bay, the guys pretend very hard not to notice. Owen hops down from the stool and wanders over, waving at the guys.
“So,” he says casually, “is it spaghetti night?”
Ollie smiles and squeezes my hand. “Yeah, buddy. We came to see if you guys wanted to come down and eat with us.”
“Yes!” he says, excited.
“Obviously,” I say, because this is my life now. Surprise babies, CPS pop-ins, bikers, firefighters, and spaghetti night like it’s the most sacred tradition we have.
And I wouldn’t have it any other way.