Chapter 41
I’m still waking fullyfrom our nap when Poppy and I sit at the dinner table two hours later. Mom must have been in the kitchen from the moment we went upstairs for her to have cooked so much food in such a short time.
A full, golden-brown chicken with crispy skin has already been carved and sits atop a platter of carrots and celery. A porcelain bowl of mashed potatoes is next to the one nearly overflowing with buns that I know didn’t come from a store. I caught a whiff of fresh bread the moment I woke to find Poppy still asleep on my chest.
My stomach growls, catching Poppy’s attention as she slides her eyes to me and laughs.
“It’s not my fault. My mom makes the best bread I’ve ever had,” I say.
“Really? Mine doesn’t bake at all. She doesn’t have the patience for it.”
Reaching across the table, I snag a bun from the stack and rip it in half. It’s still warm as I extend half to her. “Try it.”
She accepts it eagerly and takes a bite. Her eyes widen, a soft moan sliding up her throat. After swallowing, she says, “That’s really good.”
Finishing off my half, I nod in agreement and sling my arm over the back of her chair.
“It’s a Beckett family recipe. Reggie’s mother taught it to me back when we were just two young adults in love,” Mom says, appearing out of nowhere at the head of the table. “I could teach you, Poppy.”
“I’d love that!” Poppy squeals before I have a chance to chastise my mother for making future plans again.
Her instant agreement should make me excited, but it only makes things worse. If I let myself grow excited for things that won’t happen, leaving will wind up killing me.
“How was your nap?” Mom asks, stealing a quick glance behind her into the kitchen. I follow her stare, knowing who she’s looking for.
Poppy sets a hand on my knee. “It was exactly what I needed.”
“Fantastic. It’s been quite a while since I last flew, but I remember it being tough on the body. I don’t know how Garrison or my husband do it so often,” Mom replies before twirling to flash a smile at my father as he appears behind her and moves to stand at her side. She curls into him and palms his stomach. “I’ve chalked it up to them being a different breed. Would you agree, Reg?”
Discomfort turns me to stone. Poppy’s fingers stroke my knee before drifting up to rest on my thigh, squeezing once. My father looks at me for the first time in weeks and has the nerve to smile as though he cares at all that I’m here.
Against my better judgment, I searched for him when Mom whisked Poppy away for a tour of the house, but he was nowhere to be found. One look at his empty recording studio in the basement was all it took to have me spinning on my heels and heading back upstairs. It makes me sick to be near it.
I told myself that I didn’t care where he was when we arrived, but of course I did. My father couldn’t be bothered to welcome me home, even if speaking with him so soon after arriving was the last thing I wanted to do.
“Travelling is hard regardless, darling,” Dad answers Mom, pressing a kiss to the top of her head before fixing his stare to me. “It’s good to see you, Garrison. I can’t say that I expected to see you here, but I’m happy regardless. Will you do the honour of introducing me to your girlfriend?”
I ignore the millions of questions in my father’s gaze. He wants answers that I don’t have, nor would I offer up to him right now. I’m surprised he hasn’t already mentioned how surprised he is to see me with a woman at my side, but I’m sure that will come later, when we’re alone. If we ever get the chance.
I inhale through my nose and shift my hand from the back of Poppy’s chair to rest it between her shoulder blades, needing the contact.
“Poppy, meet my dad, Reggie. Dad, this is Poppy,” I introduce them.
Dad smiles kindly at her. Poppy offers him the same expression in return.
“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Beckett,” she says.
“Please call me Reggie.”
“Reggie, then,” she corrects herself.
Mom claps her hands. “Well, now that that’s done, who’s hungry?”
“I don’t think Garrison’s stomach has stopped growling since we woke up,” Poppy says, filling the silence that threatens to hang heavy over us all.
“He used to eat me out of house and home, that one,” Mom replies.
Dad pulls out the seat across from me for her before sliding into the one opposite Poppy. Nobody sits at either head of the table. The only times we ever use those two seats are if we have company, which isn’t often. Neither my father nor I have ever hosted work dinners here.
Everyone starts to dig into the spread of food, and I begin filling Poppy’s plate on instinct. She rubs my thigh when she notices what I’m doing, and I freeze, waiting for her to tell me I’ve overstepped. After spending the past few days together, it’s become habit to fill her plate before my own.
“Thank you,” she says quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.
I relax and scoop some mash potatoes onto her plate, making sure to keep them separate from the slices of chicken and the fresh bun, remembering she doesn’t like her food to touch—another thing about her I picked up in Bora Bora.
“That’s what my mom says about my brother. But to be fair, I used to deal with him stealing food off my plate all the time growing up, so she’s not wrong.” Poppy speaks to the entire table this time.
“How many siblings do you have?” Mom asks.
“Just one. Darren is twenty-eight, and his daughter, my niece, is five.”
“Have you met Darren and his daughter, Garrison?” Dad asks, cutting into his chicken with a knife and fork.
“I’ve met her brother. Abbie, I haven’t met.”
“Darren splits custody of her with her mother, so there’s not much chance to introduce her to many people. But that’s a conversation not meant for the dinner table,” Poppy says with a strained laugh.
My interest piques, sensing her discomfort and wanting to immediately soothe her. I don’t know too much about Darren’s relationship with Abbie’s mom, and it would seem there’s a reason for that.
“That’s a shame. I’m sure the time will come, though,” Mom puts in before I have the chance to blurt out something I probably shouldn’t.
Dad smiles gently, sincerely. “Tell us a bit more about Cherry Peak, Poppy. I’ve only been once, and I’ll admit it wasn’t what I expected. However, I still quite enjoyed my visit.”
“You’ve been to Steele Ranch, right?” Poppy asks after swallowing a bite of chicken.
“Yes. It was a breath of fresh air. I had never been on a ranch before, especially not one of that calibre.”
“I would hope that you loved it, considering you dumped me on their front porch,” I grit out before I can stop myself.
Poppy doesn’t stop rubbing my thigh. I clutch onto that soothing motion and let it calm me.
Dad sighs. “I didn’t dump you on their porch. Both Wade and Brody Steele accepted your stay because they’re good people, and from how good you look sitting here right now, I’d think your time there has been quite enjoyable.”
“You’d have a better idea of how I’ve been if you bothered to call even once since I’ve been gone.”
Crickets could chirp in the silence that falls over the table. I avoid looking at Mom, knowing this is the last thing she would have wanted at the dinner table, let alone in front of a guest. But Poppy isn’t simply a guest, and my feelings regarding my father are well-known to her.
I’ve had six weeks to stew on things. To prepare for the first time I saw my father again. Either we bite this in the ass now or at the office my first day back to work. Two witnesses or two dozen.
“I didn’t think you wanted me to call,” Dad says, voice sad, as if he has any right.
“You didn’t give enough of a shit to try and find out.”
“If I had tried, you would have bitten my head off, still so angry with me for agreeing to Jocelyn’s deal. We wouldn’t have been able to have a real conversation.”
“I have a right to be angry about you agreeing to Jocelyn’s deal! You stripped me of the chance to have a say. We’re equal owners of Swift Edge, yet I wasn’t involved in this at all. I was blindsided. Do you not think that it seems fair for me to be pissed?”
Nobody makes a move to eat another bite of supper. You could use a spoon to cut the tension, but I can’t find it in me to apologize for being responsible for the plummeting mood.
I spread my legs, knee knocking against Poppy’s and resting there as I lean my forearms on the edge of the table. “The board could try and sweep me out of power with every day that I’m not there. You know that just as well as I do. If I didn’t have such firm backing behind me, I’d be gone right now, and you’d have to crawl out of your studio and actually attempt to run our company!”
“Garrison, don’t yell, please,” Mom pleads, eyes tired. So, so tired.
I ignore the sharp slash of guilt and focus on my father. His wrinkled face is crumpled, but I don’t believe the regret swimming in his eyes.
“My hands were tied. I love you, son. I do. But there was only so much I could do. I made the call, and you don’t have to agree with it. You can hate me for it if you want, but it worked. Nathan will tell you the same thing. The press has moved on, and Jocelyn is happy. There hasn’t been a single accident since. Everything is going back to normal,” he says.
“So, I’m gone, and everything is sunshine and fucking rainbows?”
Poppy leans toward me, whether subconsciously or otherwise. It doesn’t matter. Her body heat slips around me. My chest aches. She doesn’t have to speak for me to feel the weight of her support.
Dad glances between the two of us before telling me, “No. One problem is solved, Garrison, but that doesn’t diminish your worth to the company.”
“What would happen if something like this happens again once I get back to work?” I ask bluntly. It’s one question I haven’t stopped asking myself since I boarded the plane to Alberta. “Because it appears a lot like I’m going to be spending the next who knows how long with an axe above my head that’s one misstep from falling. What’s next? A year-long stay on a deserted island?”
Dad pauses, his mouth opening and closing on words that don’t make any sound. My stomach curdles, suddenly the furthest thing from hungry.
“If I can speak for a second,” Poppy murmurs, clearing her throat. Mom tips her chin at her, a forced half-smile flashing. “I want to say that while I can see why you did what you did, Reggie, I also see Garrison’s side. Coming from someone who isn’t tangled with your past with one another and is coming at it from an outsider’s point of view, I can only speak on my own experience. But I know that if I was just forced to spend two months in an entirely different province, with people that I don’t know and didn’t hear from my family, especially someone who played a part in my new situation, I’d be incredibly hurt.
“I know about your history, and I don’t want to come off as naive or rude, but have you ever just taken a moment to listen to why Garrison feels the way he does? I think if you did, you’d have a bit more understanding for his anger right now.”
Her tone is fair and even the entire way through her speech. It’s hard to breathe through the onslaught of emotions rushing through me. I want to pull her out of her seat and take her the fuck out of here, somewhere it’s only us, before dropping to my knees once again and thanking her with my words and tongue and cock.
“I’d be open to that conversation. You’re right, Poppy. I’m ashamed not to have taken the initiative to take care of this myself,” Dad says.
I feel his eyes on me, but I’ve twisted in my seat, no longer looking at him. Only at Poppy. Just her.
I’m still angry. Still bursting at the seams with questions I want to demand answers to. There’s years’ worth of resentment I’ve been holding on to, but I’m aware of the fact that if I don’t take this opportunity to speak with him about it all, I’m going to allow it to eat me alive.
And I don’t want to live like this anymore.