Chapter 33 Poppy
Poppy
Wanna Be Loved by The Red Clay Strays
I’ve had a few days to sit with it and to let the shock wear off.
And now the anger is just settled deep inside of me, and I’m not sure what to do with it.
I want to find Theresa and go off on her.
I want to take out over eleven years of rage of my mom dying, our dad abandoning us, me raising Owen on my own, and barely scraping by.
Because this is just the cherry on the top of the bullshit.
And I went through all of that while some people made it harder for me than it needed to be.
Like Theresa Kendrick calling CPS on my brother and me.
And for what? Because she didn’t want me to be with her son, and she thought that if she made it harder for us, maybe he’d leave us?
That’s the only reason I can think of. Because what kind of person does that? Not a mother, that’s for sure.
That she could do this to her own son and hurt an innocent little kid, who did nothing wrong, she risked my little brother because of her own spite. And that’s just beyond not okay.
I’m not even crying about it anymore. I ugly cried the first night Ollie told me while he was in the shower.
Mostly for Ollie and Cami, basically losing a mother, just like I did.
Only their mother is still alive but she’s just evil.
I can’t imagine what she was thinking when she made that call to intentionally hurt us. False allegations meant to destroy.
Now I feel… done. Sad for Ollie but done with her. Like if I saw her on the street, I’d pretend I don’t even know her. Because I don’t. I never did. None of us did.
Parents don’t always turn into the people you need them to be.
Sometimes they don’t change. Sometimes they don’t show up.
Sometimes they stay selfish, brittle, and toxic right to the end when you have to call it and cut them out.
And that never hurts them as severely as it does you.
Having to cut them out because people like Theresa and my dad don’t care about their families.
That truth hurts. I’m sick of the way Cami and Ollie are feeling right now, but I’m glad they know now before she does more damage to them. She can’t be trusted with my family. And Ollie and Cami are my family.
I’m in the bay with Owen and a bunch of bikers, watching him zip his little go-kart back and forth in the lot outside the shop doors.
He’s got his helmet on, and his tongue poked out in concentration, like he’s auditioning for a very serious car race movie that only exists in his head.
He’s been working on getting the thing up and running with Mack, and I love seeing them have fun with it.
Ellie’s with Maggie while I get shop work done and catch up on paperwork.
Inside the shop, the vibe’s different these days.
It still smells like oil, metal, and gasoline.
But it looks different now that I’m teaching at the school and only working part-time in the shop to keep it going until I figure out what we’re doing.
We can’t live in the apartment forever. And sometimes living here feels like living with ghosts.
Jonesy’s here with Grave and a few others.
I haven’t seen Pint around, and I think he got the memo that I didn’t like him or want him here.
Bandit growled at him when he came around, so I told him off one day.
But I like having the rest of them around.
They’ve been working in one of the bays, and they don’t bother anyone.
One of their guys has a bike up on a stand in the bay, fiddling with it while Jonesy helps him.
Everyone’s relaxed but alert, like a room full of big dogs pretending not to notice each other.
Biker energy is strange. Bandit follows Owen throughout the parking lot, even riding next to him in the go-kart.
It’s just about the cutest thing ever. Grave looks at him and shakes his head, but his mouth turns up in a smile.
He doesn’t say much to anyone really, just walks around looking hot and being quiet, but Jonesy is friendly and shoots the shit with me.
They’re comfortable enough that they leave beer in my office fridge and hang out here sometimes.
At this point, I’m not even sure how they get in, but they clean up after themselves, and they never bother us.
And mysterious stacks of cash end up in my top desk drawer every week.
Ollie and I opened an account for Owen and started putting everything in it. That money is for him.
My guard will probably always be up around the bikers. But they pay, they’re respectful, and they treat my shop like a business. And whatever happened between them and Ollie, he’s more relaxed about it, too.
It is what it is. This is our new normal. Biker protection, living together, and being a family. I love it.
Jonesy wipes his hands on a rag and leans back against the workbench. “You ever think about hiring help around here?”
I glance up from the invoice I’m working on. “Help for what?”
He shrugs. “I’m a mechanic. Just not working right now. Don’t love sitting around. Grave and I were tossing the idea around of what if we became partners, got this place up and going together with you.”
I consider what he’s saying. He’s older with gray at his temples. I’ve watched him for a while now, and he knows his way around the shop. Knows not to treat me less than because I’m a female mechanic. That alone puts him above a lot of men I’ve dealt with.
“I’d have to think about it,” I say. “But maybe.”
It’s funny, the thing I hated about my dad was him and his bikers around growing up. I steered clear of them all. Now these guys are here, and we’re doing okay. Better than okay.
His mouth tilts like he knew that was the answer he’d get. “Fair enough.”
The shop door bangs open hard enough to rattle the glass, and Cami storms in like she’s about to commit a felony. She just might.
Her cheeks are flushed, her long dark ponytail’s coming loose, and her eyes are wild in that way that usually precedes Jack Jessop doing damage control after whatever it is she’s about to do.
He’s literally the only person on the planet who can tame Cami, especially when she’s mad.
And right now, she looks really mad. She doesn’t even seem to notice that the shop is full of bikers.
“Ollie called me,” she announces to no one in particular. “I know what our mother did.”
The shop goes quiet in that way that only happens when everyone is pretending not to listen.
I swivel on my stool. “Let’s chat in the office.”
She follows me without argument. I don’t bother shutting the door or offering her a chair, because she’s pacing like an angry lioness anyway.
“I can’t even with her,” Cami says, throwing her hands up. “She’s been included in dinners with us, and she’s been acting like a human being, and then she goes and does this. Why, Poppy? Why?”
I lean back against the desk. “Sometimes parents just suck.”
She stops pacing and looks at me. “You’re not wrong,” she says flatly.
I wait, letting her get everything out and vent. Because this isn’t a good feeling, figuring out the people who are supposed to protect you are the ones who hurt you.
“My husband told me to calm down,” she continues. “Which is brave of him. It’s like he wants his own Dateline episode.”
There’s a snort from outside the office. I’m pretty sure that’s Jonesy. He’s the nosey one. And they’ve been following along with the Theresa saga.
Cami rubs her face. “I had to come here because I want to go find her and rip her a new one.”
“You have every right to be angry,” I agree. But she’s furious. And sad. I know these feelings well.
She exhales hard. “What are you guys going to do about her?”
I don’t answer right away, because this isn’t fully my call.
But I know Ollie, and I know myself. This isn’t going to continue.
We can never trust her again. Because one thing is for sure about Ollie and me is that we don’t tolerate people trying to hurt us or the people we love anymore.
We’re raising our own kids now. We’re not doing that or putting up with that.
Cami answers her own question anyway. “There are about three people in this town who should probably call the cops when they see me coming. And my mother can now be added to that list.”
I smile sadly because this is literally Cami trying to joke about it, even though she is hurt and angry.
Cami sinks into the chair across from me at last. “We’re obviously done with her, and that hurts. But what hurts more is that she thinks nothing of hurting us and the people we love to get what she wants.” She looks up at me, eyes bright and fierce. “So, I’m going to show her that I’m crazier.”
I blink. “Wait, what?”
“Because that’s what you do, Poppy,” she continues, still angry. “You show the people who want to hurt you that the only reason you’re not in an insane asylum is that you’re functioning. Screws loose and all.”
Okay, angry Cami has officially entered the chat. Scary for Theresa.
Then Jonesy’s voice floats in through the doorway as he talks to one of the bikers. “Bridger Falls women are built different that’s for sure.”
I snort and look at Cami, who isn’t even paying attention to her audience. She’s lost in her thoughts, which are now alarming.
Cami straightens in her chair like she’s done throwing grenades for the moment. She glances at me and softens. “I used to be a strong and independent woman,” she says. “Until Jack.”
I raise an eyebrow because we both know damn well she’s still a strong, independent woman.
“Now I’d live in his pocket if I could. I love him so much,” she admits, with a dreamy look on her face.
I laugh at that because I know the feeling. It’s that feeling of loving someone so much. I get it.