Chapter 7
seven
LIAM
“Want a puppy?”
When I answered the door, I was expecting Maya to be bringing Poppy home, but to my surprise, my daughter’s with Ezra and Theo, and a puppy that’s apparently up for grabs based on Theo’s greeting.
Desiree trails behind them, just as at home here as she is next door. She immediately paws at her water bowl, offended by its emptiness.
I blink a few times, letting myself adjust to the newly full house.
What have I been doing these last few hours? It’s so rare I get any time to myself and I’ve just been…thinking.
Thinking about what a whirlwind today has been. About the shit my daughter went through because of my poor parenting. About how good Maya is at pretending we’ve never met. How much she’s somehow infiltrated my life in the last few days. How much I like it. How much I wish I didn’t.
It feels like I’m losing my mind. Because Maya seems just as incredible as the night we met. She’s one of those people you immediately know is special. Her kindness, openness, her ability to connect. But now I can’t tell if it’s real. Because if she’s as wonderful as she seems, why doesn’t she remember me?
“Daddy, Daddy, look what Princess Maya did!”
Poppy kicks out her foot, almost smashing it into my kneecap. Her sneaker has shiny purple hearts studded along the side.
“Wow,” I reply, not knowing what else to say. “Are you a princess now too?”
She drops her foot, pouting. “No. But I feel better. We danced out our feelings.”
Huh. I’ll have to unpack that one a little later. Poppy grabs onto Ezra’s hand and tugs him into the living room, rattling on about something she needs to show him.
I turn to Theo. “What’s going on?”
“Seriously, do you want a puppy? She’s half-blind but house trained. I bet Poppy would love her.” He holds the dog out to me like he’s offering a cheese plate. I stare back at him, waiting for the full story. “Look, I’m an idiot. I got her for Ellie, thinking it would make her feel better to have a dog. We’re always talking about getting one. But as soon as she saw the pup she ran upstairs in tears. So obviously I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. But I really don’t want to abandon this sweet girl.”
Theo’s voice is thick with emotion and I know this isn’t just about the dog. But I take her out of his hands anyway. Maybe it’s the first step to helping the guy out. “Yeah, I’ll take her. For now. What’s her name?”
I can tell immediately she’s the same breed as Desiree, and she’s always been great around Poppy. Maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea for us to have a dog.
“Well, I was gonna let Ellie name her. But I was thinking, maybe Penguin? Because of her coloring. Penny for short.”
“I like it. Come on,” I say, walking over to the couch where Ezra and Poppy are already sitting.
I ask Poppy what she thinks about taking care of a dog, but before I even finish getting the words out she’s rolling around on the floor with her, rambling about them being best friends. I make sure to let her know it’s temporary, just until Ellie’s feeling better. And I make sure to look Theo in the eyes when I say this.
It’s always hard for him when Ellie’s not feeling her best. I understand it because I feel the same way when Poppy struggles. Having loved ones with a chronic illness somehow makes you love them even more. Or maybe not more exactly, but harder. Because you’re constantly holding on to the good days, doing everything in your power to make them last. And when the bad days come, your love grows again, but it twists into the aching kind. Into a plea for them to feel better.
I can’t fix this for him, no one can. But I’ll still do whatever I’m able to to offer support, just like his family does for me.
“I can help with her too, Harley,” Ezra offers, leaning down to give Penguin’s ears a scratch.
“Thanks, man. What’s with the surprise visit?”
Ezra explains he has a meeting tomorrow with the contractors on his house. But he might want to stay a while until Ellie’s feeling better. He and Theo share a look that tells me the contractor meeting is probably bullshit. He’s here for his sister.
Ezra’s phone dings and he reads a message, then looks up at Theo. “Got a text back from that specialist. He can see her next Friday.”
“The one in Burlington?”
“Yeah, he’s the best. If there’s something going on besides a normal flare, he’ll know what to do.”
“Okay.” Theo nods, his eyes unfocused, lost in thought. “Friday’s Halloween,” he says, barely audible.
“Hey.” I clap a hand on his shoulder. “Why don’t you let me take Stevie for the day, the night, however long you’re gone. Poppy’ll love it.”
“Trick-or-treating?” Poppy asks. “With baby Stevie?”
“Yeah, angel. Sound like fun?”
“Can Princess Maya come too?”
Ezra gives me a funny look at that. And I’m not sure how to explain her newfound presence. Part of me wants to tell them both about our history, but another part of me isn’t ready to make this situation more real. Not until I understand why she doesn’t seem to know me anymore.
“Sure, kid. We can definitely ask her.”
While I normally love having Ezra here, I’m happy he already booked a hotel in town for the night. Guilt has been growing in me by the hour for passing Poppy off on Maya, when I should have been the one to help with today’s situation at school.
Nothing could have prepared me for the trials of parenting. Of wanting to always take care of my daughter, but also learning to let her figure things out on her own. Of needing to be responsible for someone’s entire well-being, but knowing when it’s okay to ask for help. It’s fucking exhausting. And no matter what day of the week it is, I’m pretty sure I’m always doing a shit job.
Was bedazzling her sneaker really the answer in this situation? And how the hell am I supposed to know that?
I make Poppy corn cakes for dinner, even though she told me she ate at Ellie’s. I need something to do with my hands. Or maybe making them allows me to think about Maya in a safe and controlled environment. Maybe I’m kidding myself that thinking about Maya is ever safe or controlled.
We take Penguin for a quick walk, mainly so I can stall before putting Poppy to bed. I’m still lost on what I need to tell her. How I can remedy this for good.
Finally, I realize that’s not possible. Ignorance doesn’t go away as people grow up. In a lot of cases it gets worse. I just need to make sure Poppy understands that.
“Poppy,” I crouch down to her level. “Can we talk for a second?”
“Sure, Daddy.”
“I just want you to know that you didn’t do anything wrong at school today. He may not have realized it, but you were trying to show kindness to someone who wasn’t doing that for you. And I’m so proud of you for that, angel.”
“Okay,” she murmurs.
“But I also think it’s important for you to know that there might always be people like Zachariah. Even when you get older, people might not understand, and they might say things that hurt your feelings because of it.”
“I know. But I can handle it.”
“You can?”
I’ve heard about this type of shock from other parents. The utter surprise when your kid says something or does something that’s entirely new. Something that makes you think, “how the hell did they know that?” But as a single parent, this rarely happens to me. There’s no partner in our household teaching Poppy new concepts without my knowledge.
So why does she seem to understand this ?
“Maya and Ellie didn’t get understood either and kids were mean to them. I just have to love my secret weapon.”
She’s lost me a little, but I get the sense that she doesn’t need my help anymore. Not about this at least.
“What’s your secret weapon, angel?”
“This!” She gives her pod a light smack. “It keeps me alive and that’s pretty cool.”
“It’s really cool,” I reply. Really fucking cool . My daughter is alive because of that little insulin pump doing what her pancreas cannot.
Why didn’t I ever think of it that way?
“What do you think about taking Penguin for a hike tomorrow? We can drive up to the lake.”
“You mean I really get to miss school?”
“Yep.” After my call with the principal this afternoon, there won’t be any complaints about her attendance. How much can you miss in one day of first grade anyway? I bet she’ll learn more by training the dog.
We circle back to the house and Poppy gets ready for bed. She asks if Penguin can sleep in her room and I give in, making her promise she’ll keep the door open all night.
“I love you, Daddy.”
She gives me a sloppy kiss as I tuck her in, Penguin already settled by her feet.
“Love you too, angel.”
And I’ve never meant it more.