Chapter 10
Chapter 10
T he next evening, Poppy arrived on Sully’s doorstep with a basket of muffins.
“Peace offering,” she declared, handing them over.
“I’m only accepting these because I’m being the bigger person and not because they look amazing,” he said, poking his head into the basket. “Maybe you should consider doing this fulltime,” he added, pinching a bite of the nearest muffin and popping it in his mouth.
“I’ll give it some consideration,” she said, following him inside. They went to the kitchen where he made a pot of coffee.
“I bought some decaf for you,” he said.
“Thank you, that was sweet, although I have to tell you that I’m still at a twelve on the nausea scale.”
“Still?” he exclaimed.
“Everything I’ve read says it should get better in the second trimester.”
“And when is that exactly?” The pregnancy was a confusing mystery to him.
“Two more weeks,” she said, crossing her fingers and holding them aloft. “Honestly, if it doesn’t get better soon, I don’t know how I’m going to survive. I’ve lost eight pounds.”
“Poppy, that’s not good. What did your doctor say about that?”
She shrugged. “I haven’t been to one in a while. I need to find one here, preferably one who takes cash, seeing as how I no longer have insurance.”
“I’ll help you look into it. There are a few missions around that provide free or reduced care.”
“Thanks,” she said, frowning at the table.
“What’s that look for?” The coffee finished. He poured himself a cup and offered her something else. She opted for milk, and he poured that before sitting down.
“I hate taking charity.”
“Everyone needs a hand up sometimes,” he said.
“Have you ever had to go to the free clinic for healthcare?” she asked.
“No, but when I was in school and a rookie trooper, I came close. Instead I just went without healthcare. Not an option in your case.”
“I know, but it doesn’t feel good. Honestly, Sully, this pregnancy thing has been way harder than I thought it would be. I had no idea I would be so sick, miserable, and exhausted. No idea all the ways it would change my life.”
“I know, but you’re here now,” he said. He meant it as encouragement, but her expression grew dimmer.
“But I don’t want to be here. I hate it here. I miss my job, I miss New York, I miss my friends.” She sniffled and then it was if the dam burst and she started to cry, hard. Sully stood and pulled her into a hug.
“I’m sorry,” he said, “I’m really sorry I got you into this fix.”
“You didn’t. Please stop apologizing or I’m not going to be able to confide in you, and I need to confide in you. You’re the only person within a thousand miles who knows what I’m going through, who knows about the baby. We’re both responsible, and I don’t blame you, not at all, not even a little. It’s just really hard right now, and I need a listening ear.”
“I’ll give you two, plus hugs and anything else you need or want, okay?”
She nodded and pressed a napkin to her face to try to push the tears back. When she succeeded, she sank into a chair again and began picking at a muffin.
“So tell me what’s been going on,” Sully said. “What brought you here exactly?”
“You were right. I couldn’t do it in New York, I couldn’t find a better place to live or a job with better hours. I tried so hard. I went everywhere, to everyone. I can’t tell you how much I loathe failing at something I’ve set my mind to. It was fine to be twenty four, on my own, and doing those things. But I’m not on my own anymore, and I can’t continue to think about what I want. I have to think about what the baby needs. As much as I hate to admit it, this is probably the best place for us to be for a while.”
“It doesn’t have to be forever,” Sully said. “You can go back someday, restart your career, pick up where you left off.”
She gave him a sorrowful look. “I think we both know that’s not true. There aren’t a lot of careers that work that way. Culinary is no different. You build your resume, take stepping stones to bigger and better until you arrive where you want to be. I was on my way. Now I’m literally nowhere.”
“I’m s…” he began, but she gave him another look and he amended the apology. “So happy you’re here, is totally what I intended to say. Are you staying with Bailey and Cal?”
“No, I rented a place.”
“In town?”
“Yes. I don’t have a car, so I need to be within walking distance of a job.”
“Oh, a job, right. That might be a problem. I could see if we’re hiring. We always need secretaries and clerks. That way we could ride together.”
“No, I’m going to work here in town,” she said, pointing to the table.
“There aren’t any jobs in this town. I probably should have mentioned that when I tried to sell you on it,” he said, giving her a sheepish smile.
She shrugged one shoulder. “It’s fine, I’ll manage.”
He didn’t comment further, but he doubted it was true. Unless she wanted to be a ranch hand, no one local was hiring. “When are we going to tell Bailey and Cal?”
“As soon as I get my job situation settled. I don’t want to go to them being the dumb kid with no means to support myself. I’d like to at least give the appearance of being a capable adult,” she said.
“I know it doesn’t seem that way, but moving here was a step in the right direction. It was a mature decision, a selfless decision,” he said.
“Someday hopefully I’ll be able to see it that way. Right now it feels like one more failure.” She paused and gave him a rueful smile. “I’m sorry, Sully. I’m terrible company right now. I fully realize I’m wallowing in self pity, but I seem unable to stop it. I’m weak, and exhausted, and nauseated, and it’s making it incredibly difficult to do my normal bootstrap pulling.”
“Poppy, we’re friends now, and being with a friend means never having to fake it. Moving cross country and starting over is reason enough to feel unsettled and adrift, but you’re also adding pregnancy in there. And it’s all happened in a shockingly short amount of time. I don’t think you’re failing; I think you’re doing great, far better than I would if I were you. I don’t do change well.”
“You’re being very nice to me,” she said.
“It’s the least I can do after I knocked you up.”
“The very least,” she agreed, and he laughed.
“Let’s move to the couch, it’s more comfortable.” He put their dishes in the sink and led the way to his sofa. “Where are you going to try and get a job? I might be able to offer some insight.”
“I don’t want to tell you. That way if it doesn’t work out, I won’t feel as disappointed,” she said.
“How did George take your leaving?” he asked, but it was apparently the wrong thing to say because tears returned to her eyes and she shook her head.
“Not well. I haven’t seen or spoken to him in the two weeks since I told him. I left him a letter, saying goodbye and sorry, but I don’t know exactly what I was sorry for. He and I weren’t together. We never had a date, never expressed feelings for each other. We handed off the bed, left each other the occasional note, and texted most days. But our texts were always fun, friendly, lighthearted teasing. I could show you, to prove to you we were nothing more than friends.”
“I believe you,” he said.
“Then why do I feel so guilty, like I cheated on him and broke his heart?” she asked, sniffling and dabbing at her eyes with a napkin to stop any tears from escaping. She was turning into a crybaby, and she hated it. Stupid pregnancy hormones.
“Because it’s highly likely you have unrealized feelings for him, and I’m positive he has them for you. I get the sense he believes you’re his destiny, and now his destiny has been ripped away. That has to hurt. I’m sure he’s not upset with you personally, just hurt over the change in the plans he had for your future.”
“What plans for our future?” she asked, baffled.
“Transitioning your weird roommate thing into an actual relationship, falling in love, getting married, living happily ever after.”
She gave up the pretense of trying not to cry and burst into loud, weepy tears instead. Sully pulled her into a hug and rubbed her back soothingly while she cried for a while. Eventually the weeping died down to hiccups, until he realized she was asleep. She had to be exhausted, and he felt terrible. Despite her protest to the contrary, he knew it was his fault she was in the shape she was in. If he hadn’t gotten her pregnant, she wouldn’t be so sick and miserable. She wouldn’t have had to quit a job she loved or move to a place she detested. But she had, and now it was up to him to help take care of her, to help make the best of a bad situation for her. Meanwhile he got to remain healthy, unchanged in the job he loved, in the town he loved, surrounded by all the people he loved. The imbalance was incredibly unfair, but he had no idea how to fix it.
After a while she curled into a little ball, her head resting on his leg. He covered her with an afghan, thinking, his hand making soothing passes over her hair. He wasn’t merely responsible for his child now; he was responsible for Poppy. There was a part of him that recoiled from the knowledge. She was twenty four, not done growing up yet, admittedly headstrong and impulsive. And from now on they were inexorably linked. Whatever she did would be a reflection on him, on his reputation and relationships with people in the community. Though they had made strides in their friendship, they still barely knew each other. What if she had some horrible personality disorder and couldn’t get along with others? What if her impulsive decision making led her into something destructive, something that might even affect his job? Part of his job was maintaining the image of the Rangers; he had to be above reproach. It was bad enough he’d gotten a woman pregnant out of wedlock. What if that woman turned out to be crazy?
There was a not so small part of him that wished she hadn’t left New York, even though he was the one who’d suggested she come. When she was there, she was out of sight and out of mind. He could give her money and ease his conscience because it was all he could do. But now here, in his town, in his home, he was going to have to be a hands-on provider, and he was beginning to realize that meant more than monetarily providing for her. He was going to have to be her keeper, to make sure she was doing okay, both physically and emotionally, probably much the same as if they were husband and wife. It was a massive responsibility, one he felt ill prepared for. He sighed under the weight of it. Poppy stirred and sat up.
“Oh, geez, I’m sorry,” she said.
“It’s fine,” he assured her, but he wondered if some of what he’d been thinking was still on his face because it felt as if she withdrew from him, and not just physically. She sat up and handed him the afghan.
“I think I’ll go home,” she said. “Thanks for the milk and sympathetic ear. And shoulder. And lap, apparently.”
“Don’t go. We’ll watch a movie or something.”
“Thanks, but no. I have a lot to do.” She stood.
He stood. “Let me walk you home.” He felt doubly guilty now, both for her misery and for his thoughts about her. Did she actually know what he’d just been thinking? That, for the briefest second, she had felt like an albatross? He hoped not. He was all she had here. Until she knew about the pregnancy, Bailey didn’t count. It was all on him, and he was already failing.
“That’s sweet, but I’m good. It’s only a few blocks, thanks to this small town thing you’ve got going on.” She patted his arm. “Have a good night, Sully.”
“You too, Poppy. Call if you need anything.”
“Will do,” she said, but the words rang hollow. Somehow he had the feeling he had managed to alienate her, to push her away and he both wanted her to go and wanted her to come back. In the end he did nothing but stand by and watch her leave.