Chapter 23
DELANEY
“Stop staring at me like that, Poppy,” I mutter around the rim of my coffee cup.
“I’m not looking at you like anything.”
“Yes you are.”
“How am I looking at you, then?”
With a roll of my eyes, I set my coffee on the table and relax into my chair.
For a coffee shop, the ambience is top-notch.
The recent renovation brought with it low lighting, plush chairs, and the disposal of the bar-height tables that always killed my back.
There’s even a small stage at the front of the place that has yet to be used. If it ever will be.
“Like you’re itching to ask me a million questions. I’m shocked you’ve lasted this long, honestly. It happened days ago.”
Poppy bundles her red hair behind her shoulders and leans forward until her arms drape over the tabletop. “Start talking. Please . I’ll die if you don’t. I’m dying already!”
“I blame Daisy for this. She’s the one who told you, right?”
“It was Darren, actually, but now I’m offended that you told Daisy and not me? Who next? Bryce?” She pouts, her glossy bottom lip wavering .
“Darren told you?”
“Duh. He loves me too much to keep something like this a secret.”
I cross my legs beneath the table and lean back against the chair, worrying my lip. Is it really that big of a deal that he told his sister about us meeting up? Surely, he just knew she’d like to be kept in the loop. That’s sibling responsibility. Yeah, that’s it.
“If he was the one who told you in the first place, why haven’t you just asked him for answers the morning after?”
She blinks slowly at me, deadpan, before her lashes pick up speed. “Sorry, was that a serious question?”
“Okay, sassy. Forget I asked.”
“If my options are you or Darren, I’m going to choose you for real answers. He’ll give me a dumb guy rundown, and I need more . The juicy details.”
“I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news, then, but there are no juicy details. All we did was eat cold burgers in his car.”
She clucks her tongue and flicks my wrist. “Nuh-uh. Don’t try it with me, Della.”
“Try what? I’m being serious. We talked and ate. That’s it. I can tell you about the fundraiser we’re putting on next weekend if you want.”
“I’m going to pinch you really, really hard,” she warns.
I let loose a laugh and scoot closer to the table. “Fine. But when you realize there truly aren’t any juicy details, you can take it up with your brother.”
“Deal. Now, start talking.”
The dramatics . . . “Did he ask you anything about me recently?”
“Like what?”
“Just anything specific. Like, my food orders or whether I still like banana milkshakes?”
Poppy’s hands fly to her neck before travelling to cover her mouth. The hearts in her eyes could rival those in a cartoon .
“He really does remember everything about you,” she whispers in awe.
“Don’t start crying, Poppy. My fast-food order is hardly everything.”
“But it’s a good sign toward it. I bet if you made a list of questions for him, he’d have all the answers.”
She could be right, but I’m not in the position to be thinking about that. All we did was talk for an hour, and while it was an important talk, there’s still a lot of work to be done between us if we want any sort of friendship.
“You’re probably right,” I agree lamely.
“Well? What else? Come on, Della, don’t hold out on me. Let it out into the world.”
“I asked about Sasha. She’s mostly who we talked about.”
Poppy’s expression droops slightly, her enthusiasm drifting away. “It’s good you asked about her.”
“It didn’t feel good, Poppy. It felt draining. Like I was trudging back through every bad memory of that time that I have.”
“And what about now? How do you feel?”
“I’m confused. I thought I should be relieved or even just somewhat at peace, you know? After all these years, I finally asked the questions I’ve been dying to know the answers to, but they didn’t feel good to hear. All they did was remind me of how we got here in the first place.”
“I’m sorry, honey,” Poppy murmurs, soothing the pink mark on my wrist from her flick with a soft touch. “Maybe it was too soon.”
“No, that’s not it. It’s been the better part of a decade. That’s long enough to miserably kick this around. I can’t keep going on like this. Looking over my shoulder for him . . . Wishing that I’d decided to leave instead of staying.”
“Don’t say that, Delaney. Don’t even joke about it. You leaving would have devastated me.”
I press my lips together in a weak smile and shrug. “We didn’t speak for years. Not until Daisy started at the school and we were kind of pushed back together. Would you have even noticed if I hadn’t stayed?”
The crack that moves through her is almost audible as she pushes away from the table and as far into her chair as possible. Her face crumbles, eyes falling to her lap instead of where she’s held my stare for the last half hour.
“I’d have noticed,” she starts, teeth sinking into her lip repeatedly before she finally releases it.
“Would you think I was making excuses if I said that I was trying to protect my brother’s feelings?
In hindsight, I know that isn’t enough. Not when you and I were as close as we were.
Your feelings should have mattered as much as his did.
And they did—please believe me. I just . . . he’s my brother.”
My hand shoots across the table before my brain catches up. I lay it palm up in front of her and focus on keeping my expression clear, open.
“It’s okay. I knew when I flew back to school that night that the odds of losing you were high. It’s what I expected because of how close you two were. I’ve never resented you for that.”
“You should have. Abandoning you wasn’t right. You were so far away, all alone, and I should have been there for you.”
“Hey, you’re here now,” I say.
She cracks a smile at that, some light returning to her face. “I am. To stay. Even if my brother shows his ass again and doesn’t do what he’s supposed to, I’ll be here. That’s a promise.”
“Alright, Pops. I’d really like that.”
Her hand clutches mine. “Sisters, Della. With or without my brother.”
It sounds perfect. I’d be an idiot not to take the declaration seriously. Yet, I can’t believe it just yet. Not so quickly.
With her hand in mine, I take in a slow breath and then say, “Do you believe in second chances, Poppy?”
“Yes,” she answers without even half a second of hesitation.
“I want to. ”
“But you don’t yet.”
“I just don’t know if it’s possible to get over what happened completely.
Everything is so different now compared to then.
We’re not the same people, and there’s a part of me that knows that what happened won’t repeat itself.
We’re too grown now to repeat the same mistakes, but there’s still that wiggle of doubt.
And fear too. I mean, he has a daughter, Poppy.
And an ex-wife. Darren and I can become friends again, sure, but what about his family?
I can’t pretend they don’t exist, and I don’t want to.
It’s just that I don’t know if I can handle that hurt,” I ramble, clinging to her tighter.
“And friends? Shit, how am I supposed to be friends with him after?—”
“After you were in love? The kind of love that others yearn for their whole lives?” she asks, sighing knowingly.
“I don’t know. Is that all you want to be?
Friends? Is that the line you’re drawing between the two of you?
Because if it is, then Sasha doesn’t matter.
She’ll have no involvement in your friendship.
And Abbie loves everyone she meets. You’re already in her life because of your teacher status, so being friends with her father won’t bother her.
Unless that’s not what you’re worried about. Is it?”
It’s not. The real reason is worse than that. It’s selfish and cruel, and I’m ashamed of ever thinking it. Of ever wishing Abbie were mine instead. That I’d been the one to bring Darren’s baby girl into the world. Our world.
The thought has kept me up into the night too many times.
I’ve cried a million tears into the drain of my shower, reminiscing about a life that I’ll never have until finally, I moved on, and I could see the sweet girl in public without drowning in pain.
Or I thought I’d gotten over it. I went out on dates, and let other men replace the image of him in my mind for sometimes a few months at a time.
Only they never lasted. We weren’t compatible, and I never saw a future past a few months.
“Shit, Poppy. I don’t know. I’ve avoided thinking about that for way too long.
The possibility of ever being more than friends with him died the day I came back home.
I’ve spent years working to kick him from my heart, and all it takes is one damn day to throw me back into the mess I was. What am I supposed to take from that?”
“I think you already know what you’re supposed to take from that. How was it when you were together? Did it feel good at all?”
I reach for my coffee and take a long swig of it. “I missed him. Being so close to him but having to keep a distance was overwhelming. He left an imprint on me that won’t ever leave.”
“Are you going to do it again?”
“Eat with him in his car?” I ask, sounding far more at ease than I am on the inside.
“Sure. Or, you know, going out with him to do something that doesn’t involve you hunkering down in his car and talking about all of the miserable moments in your lives.”
“I agreed to another meeting. Only one for now.”
Poppy’s eyes bulge. She reaches for her drink and pounds it back before slowly setting it back down and clearing her throat. When she speaks, it’s with an overly calm tone that draws a laugh up my throat.
“That sounds promising.”
“Yeah, I can tell that’s what you took from what I said,” I joke.
She huffs and releases my hand long enough to wiggle a finger at me across the table. “Don’t pretend like this isn’t a big deal to you too. You’re willing to go out with him again . That’s huge.”
“We haven’t decided on anything yet. If Darren had it his way, he’d make it another date.”
“A date?” she squeals, unable to help herself this time. Too bad she forgot to reach for her coffee.
“Only in your brother’s eyes. I’m still trying to figure out what he’s trying to accomplish here.”
“I mean, from that, I’m sure I could piece it together. ”
“You say that as if it’s easy to understand, though. I mean, why now? After all these years? It doesn’t make sense.”
Poppy keeps smiling, not sharing my confusion. “Let him explain himself, then. Knowing my brother, he has a plan. You could throw a curveball into it and demand answers if you really wanted. He never could keep a secret when it came to you.”
“I’ll think about it. I need a few more days to just process all of this,” I say.
“Understandable. Let him wait, Della. He deserves it.”
I return her smile and let myself relax again in her company.
“I’m going to get something to eat. I think they have the cherry turnovers again; do you want me to snag you one?” I ask, already pushing away from the table.
“Please.”
“Got it. Be right back.”
I move through the shop at a slow pace, content with enjoying the lack of line in front of the counter.
It’s quite empty in here for a Saturday morning.
I wouldn’t be surprised if everyone was still sleeping after last night’s rave of a farmer’s market.
Apparently, Eliza Steele brought the moonshine that Johnny’s started making in his back shed, and it was a huge hit.
That would explain the hollering and terrible singing I heard on the street at two in the morning.
I’m eyeing the case of pastries on the counter when the bell above the door rings. The barista slides in front of the till at the same second I check to see who’s walked in. Bryce’s signature scowl greets me before I drop my gaze to the little girl standing beside her.
Abbie Huntsly waves at Poppy, instantly spotting her and heading right for the table.
Our table.