Chapter 17
Chapter 17
I t happened. Word began to spread about Poppy’s bakery, like proverbial wildfire. People were trickling in from farther away, foodies on a mission to try new things. Each day she saw new faces at the diner.
The cat was also out of the bag after her encounter with Bailey. Sully showed up as usual for lunch that day when Poppy signaled him over.
“You look especially ornery today. What gives?” he asked.
“You think this look is orneriness? It’s anxiety,” she said, giving him a nervous smile.
He froze. Had something happened? Something more than Bailey’s adverse reaction? “Why? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing per se, it’s just…you remember how much I ate last night?”
“There’s no right answer to that question, is there?” he asked.
“The point is I think I gained about five pounds.”
“Okay,” he drawled, still not following.
“Brace yourself,” she said.
“You’re starting to scare me a little,” he said.
“I’m going to come around the counter,” she warned.
“Are you going to stab me? Because your demeanor says yes.” He watched as she walked from behind the counter and, even after her warning, had to fight against the urge to gasp and stare. Her belly had popped, the new maternity shirt highlighting it like a beacon. No longer was it a barely discernable mound, easily hidden under flowing dresses. It was now full and rounded and on display for all the world to gawk. And gawk they did. If anyone had guessed before this moment that she was pregnant, it hadn’t made its way into the gossip mill. But now word was out in a major way.
“Oh boy,” Sully whispered, forcing his eyes up to her face, a face that was filled with uncertainty. “I like the new shirt.”
“Thank you. This boy I know bought it for me,” she gave him a nervous little smile. People seemed to be awaiting his reaction, as if maybe they thought he hadn’t known she was pregnant, as if they thought maybe she had been pulling the wool over his eyes. Time to dispel that notion. He pulled her close and kissed her, resting his hands on the bump, his heart doing the cartwheel flip-floppy thing it did whenever he touched her stomach.
“Have lunch with me,” he said.
“After that little display, I’d do anything you ask,” she said.
He quirked an eyebrow at her.
“Almost anything,” she amended. “And I saved you a piece of pie.”
“Totally worth the price of admission,” he said. She slid into a booth. He sat beside her, and she looked at him askance.
“What are you, a serial killer? Who shares the same side of a booth?”
“Two people who are in need of some moral support,” he said.
“Oh, right.” She rested her head on his shoulder for a second, and he slid his arm around her, his lips skimming her temple. Conversation was abuzz in the restaurant, and they both knew it was about them. “Wonder what they’re saying?”
“Well, I don’t think they’re discussing the weather,” he said.
“No, I mean I wonder if they think it’s yours or if you’ve simply taken pity on me in my lowly state,” she said.
“I don’t know, let me see.” He stood and faced the crowded diner. “It’s mine, y’all.”
“That was subtle,” she said as he sat down again and slid his arm back around her.
“Best to face these things head on, get in front of the rumors,” he said. He reached for the pie she’d saved for him and took a bite. “Oh, my lands. Girl, this pie is going to make you famous, mark my words.”
“I could be the pregnant pie lady,” she mused.
“You are the pregnant pie lady,” he said.
“What’ll you have?” Marjory asked, pausing by their table. They placed their order. She wrote it down, stuffed her pad in her pocket, and faced them. “Y’all getting married? You know folks are going to ask me.”
“Co-parenting as friends. Spread the good word, Marjory,” Sully said, handing her their menus.
“Not sure it’s good. Y’all ought to get married,” she said, but not unkindly.
“Getting married would solve a lot of problems,” Sully said to Poppy after Marjory was gone.
“Solving problems isn’t a reason to get married,” she reminded him.
“What is a reason to get married?” he asked.
“Because you fall in love with a person and want to spend your life together, having children, making a family,” she said.
“We already made a child and we’re becoming family,” he said. “Maybe the love comes after.”
“You’re confusing me in my vulnerable state,” she said, reaching for a bite of his pie.
He moved it away from her. “Mine.”
“I can’t possibly marry a man who won’t share his pie,” she said.
Sighing, he shoved the pie closer to her. “Just think about it,” he said.
“I’ll think about it, but, Sully, isn’t the fact that we’re having a rational discussion about it kind of a clue? Aren’t we supposed to be two crazy kids head over heals in love? I believe that was what you said to me that night, that you were looking for magic.”
She loaded a piece of pie on the fork, but instead of eating it held it out for him. His eyes fell on her soft and rounded body, her pretty face with eyes alight, the fork full of pie she’d made held out to him. For a second, he thought maybe he’d found the magic he’d been looking for, but it was a wispy thread, a gossamer thought, gone before he could grasp onto it. The mouthful of pie saved him from an answer, and when it was finished, their food arrived. After that, they didn’t return to the topic of marriage or magic again, and Sully wasn’t sure if he was relieved or regretful.
The next day when Sully arrived at the diner, Poppy was not behind the counter as usual. Instead she sat in a booth, the same booth they’d shared yesterday, talking and laughing with a man he didn’t recognize. He wasn’t a local, that much was certain. He wore the preppy clothes and round glasses of an intellectual and, right away, Sully was both suspicious and jealous in equal measure.
He tried to be casual when he approached their table but failed miserably when Poppy looked up at him with a knowing smile. “Is it marking time already?” she asked.
“Looks like,” he said, forcing her aside as he sat down next to her. He held out his hand to the man. “Sully Langford.”
The man shook his hand in return, showing no hesitancy or trepidation. “Ash Gallagher, San Antonio Express-News.”
“The News?” Sully echoed.
“Yes, we caught wind of Poppy’s bakery here, and I’m doing a story,” Ash replied.
Sully faced Poppy. “Well, aren’t I the idiot?”
“There’s no right answer to that question, is there?” she replied, clearly amused by his misplaced jealousy.
“It was nice to meet you, Ash,” Sully said, ignoring her. “I’ll leave you to get back to it.” He started to stand, but Ash put out a hand.
“Could I get a picture of you two? It’s sort of part of the story, New York girl meets Texas Ranger, falls in love, opens a bakery,” Ash said.
Sully turned back to Poppy. “Is that the story we’re going with?”
“It would seem so,” Poppy said, and Ash took a picture while they were mid-conversation. They turned to him in question.
“Sorry, sometimes the candids are better. I’ll take a posed one now.” They put their heads together. He took a picture, checked it, and nodded in satisfaction. Sully eased out of the booth, and the interview continued.
The story ran a few days later and was picked up by the USA Today. Poppy was ecstatic with the exposure. Sully was enamored, both with the glowing article and with the picture of him and Poppy. Ash had used the candid shot, the one where they were looking at each other and talking. They were smiling at each other, Poppy’s finger resting on her chin, her dimples in full effect. It was the sort of picture they’d be able to show their child someday, and he loved it so much he contacted the paper and bought a copy of the photo. Unknown to them, however, the story would spark a series of unforeseeable events.
The first such event was a phone call from Poppy’s father. She hadn’t yet told her parents she was pregnant.
“Hey, Sugar Bear. I saw your picture in the paper,” he said, and Poppy smiled.
“Hey, Dad. I thought you hate that paper.”
“I do, but I bought ten copies. Even a stopped clock is right twice a day, Poppy, and this paper got it right about you. Sounds like things are going well there with the new venture.”
“I’m not going to be a millionaire anytime soon, but I’m surviving. How are you? How’s Mom?”
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I’m at Laughlin.”
Laughlin Air Force base, in Del Rio, was even closer than Lackland. “You’re local?” she said, her world shifting suddenly from a pleasant interlude to total panic.
“Yes, I am, and I want to see my girls. Bailey has to have a baby bump by now, right?”
“Uh,” Poppy drawled. “I can’t honestly say, Dad. It’s like Bailey lives in a whole other town, the ranch is so far away. And I’ve been so busy with the new business.”
Her father paused, an ominous sign. “What’s going on, Poppy?”
“Bailey and I had a bit of a falling out,” Poppy explained. It wasn’t so unusual for the two sisters to butt heads. They were extremes in temperament. Growing up, their middle sister, Jane, often played peacemaker between them. But they hadn’t argued in years, not since they both left home.
“I don’t like that,” her father said.
“Neither do I,” Poppy agreed. “I’m sure it will be fine eventually, but she needs some time and space from me.”
“What did you do?”
It irked Poppy that he automatically took Bailey’s side. He said he didn’t have a favorite, but sometimes it was hard to remember when he and Bailey were so much alike they could always read each other without words. “It’s hard to explain, Daddy. We’ll talk about it over lunch. Have you talked to Bailey yet?”
“No, I called you first.”
“Could you do me a favor and see us separately, me first? I think you’ll understand after that.”
“If you like. I want to see your place. I’ll come there first and meet Bailey after,” he said. “But, Poppy, I don’t like separation between my girls.”
“I don’t either, Daddy. Bailey and I will be okay eventually, I promise.”
He sighed. Poppy could imagine he thought, that it was a lot easier to manage the world’s problems than those of his three daughters. “All right. See you in a bit.”
Poppy withdrew her phone and texted Sully. He was on patrol all day today, some top-secret assignment he couldn’t tell her about.
My dad is coming. Now is a good time for you to head south of the border and hide out for a while.
She hoped he got the message, and she hoped he realized she meant it.