3. Poppy
3
Poppy
B ailey knocks on my bedroom door a few hours later. After spending the afternoon on Craigslist and getting increasingly depressed, I’m glad for the distraction. In fact, we should go out tonight and celebrate.
Even if there are more pressing issues right now, like finding somewhere to live.
I’ve found a few places online that I’m hoping to check out tomorrow, but I’ll be honest, I’m anxious at the thought of moving in with someone I don’t know. Or worse—moving in with someone questionable, because my time is up and I don’t have a choice. My stomach fills with acid at the thought.
“Hey,” Bailey sing-songs as she sashays into the room. She’s carrying two sodas and hands me one with a grin.
“Thanks,” I mumble, cracking open the can. I sip the fizzy liquid, the bubbles tickling my nose, while Bailey side-steps the cookbooks piled on the floor beside the dresser, then finds a spot on the bed and settles in. With a sigh, I close my laptop, which was open to a listing in New Jersey. I figured if worst came to worst, I could commute to the city. It’s probably all I can afford, anyway.
The thought makes me want to sob.
“I have good news.” Now she’s doing a little shimmy with her shoulders in addition to the sing-song voice, and despite the dire situation, I laugh into a sip of soda. Her eyes gleam with excitement as she announces, “I’ve found you somewhere to live.”
My heart jumps hopefully. “For real? Where?” Out of the two of us, Bailey is the social butterfly. She knows loads of people, so I’m not surprised she’s found me somewhere. She probably has a friend with a spare room, maybe in a cute loft in Soho or something. Wouldn’t that be the dream?
She holds her breath for dramatic effect, then finally declares, “You can stay with my dad in Brooklyn.”
I lower my soda, puzzled. “I’m sorry, did you say your dad ?”
“Yes.” She beams. “I just got off the phone with him, and he said it was fine.”
An image of the tall, broad-shouldered man flashes into my mind before I can stop it. I know it’s weird because he’s my friend’s father, but I’ve always found Mr. Mathers attractive.
Actually, that’s an understatement.
I remember the first time I laid eyes on him, at Bailey's 21st birthday party early last year. Kurt was sick that night and tried to guilt-trip me into not going. We had a huge fight, but I wasn’t going to miss my best friend’s birthday. I put on my favorite dress and dragged myself out to the bar in the East Village, only to be greeted by a man I’d never be able to forget. Sure, I had a boyfriend, but things were so bad at that point I felt reckless and desperate. I just needed a break from thinking about Kurt, from being around his emotional manipulation, from constantly feeling like shit. Besides, having a boyfriend didn’t mean I couldn’t look.
And look, I did.
At forty-two, Mr. Mathers is young to have a daughter Bailey’s age, and looks nothing like any dad I’ve ever met. Everything about him is ruggedly masculine, from his short beard and dark brown hair, the temples dusted with gray, to his piercing amber eyes. As far as I know, he spends all day in some job where he works with his hands outdoors, which explains his impressively large biceps. Then there’s the leather jacket he sometimes wears, and the tattoos that cover almost every inch of his skin, giving him that classic bad-boy vibe.
So, yeah. He’s my friend’s dad, but the fact remains: Mr. Mathers is undeniably hot.
Of course, I could never tell Bailey that.
She and her father have a complicated history. He wasn’t even in her life until she was twelve, but Bailey has forgiven him for whatever happened in their past. I’m not sure I would have been so quick to forgive my dad if he missed half my life, but I guess that’s Bailey’s decision. Now she talks all the time about what a great dad he is, and from what she’s told me, it seems as though he would do anything for his daughter.
Including, for reasons I don’t quite understand, let me live with him.
“Not to sound ungrateful…” I set my soda down on my nightstand. “But why, exactly, would I stay at your dad’s place?”
“Well, I have a room there.” Bailey says this like, duh, it’s a no-brainer . “And he’s going to be super busy with work over the summer anyway, so he’ll hardly be around.”
I rub my face. “What does he do again? I know it’s something outdoors, but…”
“He owns a landscaping company.”
“Right.” I momentarily ponder the idea, then shake it off. How weird would it be if I moved in with my friend’s father? I hardly know the man. “Thanks for the offer, B, but I don’t think—”
“He doesn’t mind,” she insists. “And it’s the least I can do since I’m leaving you high and dry.”
She is leaving me in a tight spot, I’ll agree to that, but it wouldn’t be her doing this, it would be her dad. How could I possibly ask him to do that?
“I don’t know…”
“Please.” Bailey sets her drink down and turns to me, taking my hands as she looks at me desperately. “I already feel bad enough about leaving right when we were going to launch the business. I don’t want you taking a random room from some shady guy on Craigslist because we’re kicking you out.”
I think back to the listings and grimace. A lot of them did look shady, it’s true.
But could I really move in with Bailey’s father ? My face heats with embarrassment at the thought. I’m supposed to be striking out on my own. I’m certainly old enough. What would he think of me if I moved into Bailey’s room instead?
“He won’t charge you rent,” she adds, and the heat in my face intensifies.
“I would never stay there for free.”
Bailey shrugs. “He won’t take your money.”
“There’s no way I would be comfortable freeloading off your dad.” Even at our place here I paid something toward the rent and utilities, despite losing most of my cash to Kurt. I also cooked for everyone as often as I could and kept the place clean. Dean has been extremely generous, but I’ve contributed however I can.
“I understand.” Bailey grins. “Then you’ll just have to cook for him. He’ll be busy over summer so would probably appreciate that. Saves him eating takeout all the time.” She’s quiet for a moment, her grin fading as she adds quietly, “At least I know you’ll be safe at Dad’s.”
I huff a laugh. “You don’t have to worry about me, B. I’m fine.” Honestly, Bailey is way too protective when it comes to Kurt. Things haven’t been an issue for months now.
“Poppy.” Her tone turns heavy and serious. “I need to know you won’t end up in a bad situation because I’m leaving. I need to know you’ll be okay.”
I gaze into the concerned eyes of my best friend, softening. She has this exciting new job opportunity on the other side of the country, and instead of celebrating, she’s worrying about me.
“Promise me you’ll stay in my room at Dad’s,” she presses. “I won’t leave unless I know you’re going to be okay.”
I blow out a long breath. I want my friend to stop focusing on me and enjoy this moment. Besides, what are my options? New Jersey with a stranger, or Brooklyn with a man I’ve actually met? It might be a little humiliating, but that’s a small price to pay. It will give me the chance to launch the business and save some money to get back on my feet, then I can move into an apartment I actually like, with someone I trust. As much as it hurts my pride, this is the better choice.
And it will mean Bailey can go to San Francisco to start her new job without worrying. She deserves that after all she and Dean have done for me. I don’t want her fresh start to be ruined because she’s too busy thinking about me.
“Fine,” I mumble. “As long as you’re sure he doesn’t mind. Because otherwise—”
“He doesn’t mind.” She tugs me into a tight hug, and I squeeze her back. There’s no denying the relief I feel at knowing I won’t be homeless, even if this isn’t ideal. I can tell by the way Bailey squeezes me that she’s relieved too, and really, that’s what matters.
“Now.” I smile at my friend as we part, glad we can put this behind us. “It must be time to celebrate.”
Two days later, I load my bags and a few boxes into the back of a cab. Mr. Mathers apparently offered to come get my stuff in his truck, but I couldn’t let him do that. He’s already doing enough.
Besides, I don’t have much. Bailey’s room in Brooklyn is already furnished, and Dean owns all the furniture I was using here. All I have are clothes, pillows, a small rug, some books, and a few knick-knacks. It’s surprising how little I actually own, I realize, as it only takes me three trips down the stairs to the cab, and I try not to see it as a sign of how little I’ve come since leaving home.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?” Bailey asks as I open the back door of the cab. The plan is for me to unpack this afternoon, then she’ll come over this evening to hang with me and her dad. That won’t be awkward at all.
“No, it’s fine. I’ll see you later.”
She sighs, pulling me into another fierce hug. It’s been nothing but hugs since she announced she was leaving, but I don’t mind. At least I know she’s going to miss me as much as I’ll miss her.
“And you’ve still got loads of packing to do,” I remind her.
“Yeah.” The movers are coming first thing tomorrow. Then she’s on a flight at 10 a.m. I still can’t quite believe it.
I take a deep breath, gazing up at the building I’ve called home over the past year. I came here in a bad state, and Bailey and Dean let me take all the time I needed to heal, to find my strength again. They sheltered me from Kurt, who admittedly wasn’t always reasonable, and they made me feel safe.
But it’s time to move on.
“Oh, good. You haven’t left.” Dean appears on the stoop behind Bailey, grinning as he approaches. “It’s going to be weird without you around.”
I laugh, shoving him playfully in the arm. “Whatever. You’ll be glad to have some time alone.” Dean’s been like a brother to me over the past year, and I’ll miss him. He’s second-generation Korean American, absolutely hilarious, and truly one of the most generous people I’ve met.
He laughs kindly, slinging an arm over Bailey’s shoulder. “Nah. We’re going to miss you, Pops.”
I stare at my friend and her boyfriend, my chest tight. “I don’t know how to thank you guys. If it wasn’t for you…”
“I know.” Bailey pulls me in for another firm hug, and this time Dean joins in. “We love you.”
“I love you guys too. Thank you for everything.”
“Anytime,” Dean adds, squeezing us both.
“Right.” Bailey sniffs as we all part, her eyes shining. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”
“Sounds good.” My voice is hoarse, and I laugh to ease the tension. Obviously neither of us would usually be upset at parting for a few hours, but we both know it’s not about that.
I wave to my friends through the window as the cab pulls away from the curb, fighting the tightness in my throat. It’s time , I tell myself. It’s time for something new.