16. Dylan
sixteen
Dylan
It’s Sunday morning, Liz is covering for me at the restaurant, and fifteen minutes before Poppy is due to arrive at the house, I surprise Izzy with a pair of new blue-and-purple hiking boots. I’d picked the brown ones first and made it all the way to the sales counter before Poppy’s voice sounded in my head, and I swapped them for something more fun.
“What are these for?” Izzy asks as she turns them over in her hands.
“You and I are going on a hike today.”
Her face lights up, and she bounces on her toes. “Really? Where? Why? When? Can I wear a tutu? What about my cowboy hat? Can my stuffies come too?”
I chuckle and try not to dwell on how bad I feel that we haven’t done this before. “Yes, really. There’s a trail not too far from here that your grandmother used to take me to when I was your age, so I thought we’d start there, and we’re going to leave in half an hour. As for why? Well, because it’s a nice day out and because I want to spend time with you, Little Bee. I haven’t heard nearly enough about your first week at school, and I expect you to tell me all about it while we walk.”
Her soft cheeks flush with excitement. “What about the tutu and the hat? And my toys?”
“Hm.” I pretend to think. “You can wear a tutu over your jeans, as well as a sweater over your t-shirt. You can bring one stuffie—a small one—but I think a baseball cap will be better for hiking. Okay?”
“Okay, Daddy.”
I watch her race up the stairs, loving her so hard it’s a wonder my heart can hold it, then head to the kitchen to finish packing our picnic lunch.
Finn appears at the back door and strolls around the counter to help himself to one of the apples I’ve set aside for the hike. “What’s going on?” he asks.
“Izzy and I are hiking this morning, then having a picnic.”
He makes a play for the antipasto baguette, and I shove him aside but he’s too big for it to have an impact as he weaves around me and takes a slice.
“Cool,” he says around a mouthful of sandwich. “Mind if I come?”
“Uh…”
“Come where?” Daisy appears out of thin air, slips around me, and nabs a muffin from the batch I’ve boxed up in a container.
“I’m taking Izzy on a hike,” I tell her.
“Oh, it’s the perfect day for it.” Daisy’s bottom lip sticks out in a disappointed pout. “I’ve got trail rides this morning, or else I’d go too.” She reaches up to kiss my cheek, then does the same to Finn. “Have fun,” she calls on her way out.
“We will,” Finn shouts back as he drops into a dining chair with his apple and half-eaten sandwich and— When the fuck did he steal that muffin?
I glance toward the stairs, then the front door, impatient for Poppy to get here but praying for a few more minutes so I can deal with the problem that is my brother. When did he become a fucking joiner?
“Daisy said your date didn’t work out,” he says.
“Where have you been? That was two weeks ago, and no. It didn’t.”
“Sorry, bro. That sucks.”
“Yeah. I mean, no. I mean, these things happen.”
“True. So, what happens next? Five bucks says Daisy’s already got another candidate lined up. Am I right?”
“No. I don’t know. Shit. I hope not.”
Finn chuckles quietly and shakes his head. “So, you’re not interested in finding someone? I’m not suggesting you get married, but what about someone to have fun with?”
I think about Poppy and what we’re doing. It’s undefined and spontaneous and messy, so by default, we’re doing exactly what Finn’s talking about—having fun—but it makes me uncomfortable to think about her that way. What I do know is that as long as we’re doing whatever it is we’re doing, I have no interest in thinking about other women, let alone dating them.
“I can find my own dates if I want them, and there’s zero chance I’ll let Daisy push me into one of her blind fix-ups again.” I cross my arms and regard Finn with a smug smile. “You’ve been single for at least as long as I have. Keep yapping, and I might accidentally suggest to our matchmaking little sister that you’re the brother who needs help—not me.”
He scowls. Hard. “Fine. I’ll shut up.”
“Good.”
It’s then that I notice Poppy hovering by the back door, and I wonder how much of our conversation she heard. When she realizes she’s sprung, Poppy walks in like she wasn’t trying to eavesdrop and grins brightly as she checks out the boxes and bags of food I’m stowing in my insulated backpack.
“Hey,” she says. “What’s going on here?”
“Hike,” Finn says around a mouthful of muffin. “Picnic.”
“Oh?” Poppy glances at Finn, then at me. “And you’re making enough food to last a week in case he gets lost in the woods?”
“No.” I try to act nonchalant like this wasn’t all a plan to spend some time with Poppy and my daughter away from my family. “I organized Liz to cover for me at the restaurant so you, me, and Izzy could revisit one of Mom’s old trails.”
Poppy’s face is unnaturally still, and she rolls her lips like she knows what I’m trying to do—and that I was thwarted by my big brother.
I shake my head with a tired but amused chuckle. “Finn’s going to tag along too.”
Finn grins like a clueless goofball and stuffs the last morsel of muffin into his mouth.
“Sounds like a good time.” Poppy offers a high-five to Finn, that he returns with a sharp smack. “Let me run upstairs to make sure Izzy isn’t wearing her ballet slippers and bathing suit, and I’ll steal a pair of Daisy’s boots while I’m at it.”
“I bought Izzy new boots,” I tell her, and Poppy looks pleasantly surprised. “But you might need to check she’s wearing the right socks.”
Half an hour later, I pull my truck into the parking lot at one of the lesser-known Sonoma hiking trails just outside Aster Springs. Finn shoulders a pack with our water bottles while I carry our picnic. Izzy wears a little knapsack with her stuffed bunny poking out the top. And Poppy transfers half the crap from her oversized tote into a compact backpack she swiped from Daisy’s room, along with a pair of boots, a red t-shirt, and a baseball cap she wears with her ponytail bouncing out the back. She’s gorgeous, and when I check to make sure the bag won’t burden her too much, I discover it weighs next to nothing.
“How do you do that?” I ask as Poppy loops it onto her shoulders.
“It’s a girl thing,” she says. “You wouldn’t understand.”
The hike is an easy one, which is why my mom loved it, and it’s perfect for Izzy. She’s a ball of energy as we head off, and for the first ten minutes, we swallow the distance as a foursome. Even with my hopes of spending time alone with Poppy dashed by my dopey brother, it doesn’t take long before I relax and enjoy myself.
The endless expanse of blue nothing over us and the perfectly cool weather for walking. The picturesque hills and fields and woodlands, the glassy ponds reflecting birds overhead and the endless valley views that remind me how small we are. The sounds of Izzy’s constant chatter about how she adores her new teacher, the number of times she’s visited the school library, her new best friend’s ability to recite the periodic table, and how now she’s certain she’s got her first wobbly tooth. Transferring schools has been good for her, and this is one of the few times I’m certain I’ve made the right decision for my daughter.
Beside me, easy conversation passes between Poppy and Finn, and though I try to keep up with it, I soon stop feeling the need to contribute and focus on the path under my feet, working and stretching muscles that I don’t use much anymore. I stretch my neck, the knot in my trap catching a little before it loosens up, and I sigh. For once in my life, I’m not thinking about anything other than where I am now. Right this minute. It’s awesome.
“Feel like sharing?” Poppy asks as Finn and Izzy start to gain a small lead. I deliberately slow my pace to widen the space between us, and Poppy slows with me.
“It feels good to be out in nature,” I tell her. “And it’s been too long since I took a Sunday morning off work.”
“How have you managed all these years?” she asks. “Before Finn and Daisy got back this summer, it was just you and Charlie. How did you juggle it all?”
I think back to the early days of Izzy’s life, but a lot of it is a blur. “Annalise gave birth in San Francisco, and we spent a weird three weeks in a hotel while she recovered and I tried to work out what I was doing. Part of me hoped she’d stick around, but even after Izzy was born, Annalise wasn’t interested in us being a family.”
“I’m sorry,” Poppy murmurs.
“Don’t be. She was always honest about what she wanted from me—sex, not commitment—and I was stupid not to believe her. So, after Izzy was born, Charlie hired someone to manage the restaurant so I could learn how to be a dad. Daisy came home whenever she could, and Chord paid for a bunch of things that I took for granted at the time—furniture and formula and a night nanny—but that didn’t last forever. The restaurant was struggling, and I needed to get back into the kitchen, so Charlie and I found a way to manage—the way most parents and caregivers do, I guess. You just do it. The first few years before Izzy went to preschool were the hardest.”
I kick at a rock as an old weight of failure and obligation settles on my shoulders, and I say something out loud that I’ve always carried in silence.
“I sometimes wonder if my choosing to be a father is the reason the ranch suffered for so long. I was too busy trying to be a good dad that I let my responsibilities to my siblings and the memory of my parents slip. Charlie had to shoulder more burdens than she should have by helping me raise a daughter while she fought to keep the ranch from going under. Am I the reason we nearly lost everything?” I shake my head as the old argument bounces back and forth in my head. “But then…what was the alternative? I made a baby, for Christ’s sake. There’s no responsibility greater than that.”
Finn and Izzy disappear around the bend ahead, so when Poppy slips her hand in mine and gives my fingers a comforting squeeze, I hold on tight so she won’t let go.
“I know you aren’t the reason for the hard times,” she says, “because there was a lot more at play than you becoming a father. You’d only just lost your parents. Chord was on the other side of the country playing hockey, Finn was in the military, and Daisy was away more than she was here. Silver Leaf is a huge operation. With or without Izzy, those years would have challenged you and Charlie in all sorts of ways. If you ask me, Izzy came along at exactly the right time. She’s what you needed—a reason to keep fighting and holding on to what mattered even when all the people who should have been by your side let go.”
My thumb brushes the back of her hand, and I risk lifting it to my lips for a grateful kiss. “Thank you.”
Poppy drops her eyes but keeps her fingers twined in mine, then nudges me gently with her shoulder. “You’re welcome.”
It’s been a long time since I was this open with anyone, and I smile to myself, thinking how easy it is to talk to Poppy. It’s her empathy and complete lack of judgment that makes her so easy to be with, as well as her ability to see the best in people and the bright side of any circumstance.
We slow our pace to barely a stroll, and I wonder if this moment would feel different if we were on a real date. Could it feel better than this? Warmer or more right ? I don’t know how that’s possible.
“So,” she says. “This resistance you have to expanding the restaurant and hiring new staff—possibly giving up a little control and appointing a new head chef—is because you had a bad experience in the past?”
“That’s part of it. But I love my job. I love the creativity and energy of a commercial kitchen. I don’t want to spend all my working hours pushing paper behind a desk.”
“You’re the boss, Dylan. You can build any kind of life you want, but you can’t do it all.”
“You’re right. In fact, I’ve drafted a proposal for Charlie that outlines a new role in the business for my sous chef, Liz, and ways we can have the second dining room operational by summer. It’s all there in black and white.”
“But you haven’t shared it with Charlie yet,” she guesses correctly. “Why not?”
“Because once Charlie’s got that proposal in her hand, she’ll run with it even if I want to slow down or change course. And like you said—I like being in control.”
“And I’m a chaos agent,” she says with a mock sigh. “I can’t relate, I’m afraid.”
“Chaos. Color. Mess.” I pump her hand to let her know it’s not a judgment. More an observation or a reflection. Maybe even a little wishful thinking. “And there isn’t much of that in Aster Springs, right? Everything’s the same here day in and day out.”
Poppy shrugs. “Life is what you make it. Camping and hiking and midnight pancakes with your parents gave my life color as a kid. I bet today’s an adventure for Izzy. And as for mess… Well, I’ve got a knack for being messy wherever I go. Here, there, somewhere else… I’ve discovered geography doesn’t really matter. I create my own disasters.”
The hint that something—or someone—hurt her in the recent past is too clear to let it pass by me again. “Is that why you came home?”
She glances at me with a quizzical frown.
“You told me that you and Daisy are trying to—what was it? Toughen up before you put yourselves out there again. Kind of implies something happened that was, I don’t know…messy?”
Poppy drops her eyes to the ground in front of her feet and releases my hand so she can cross her arms over her chest. “It wasn’t a man, if that’s what you’re asking. I’ve never even been in a serious relationship.”
Her confession makes me stumble. “Never?”
“Nope. Never met a guy who felt like a safe space. You know?”
“Yeah.” I shove my hands in my pocket, not sure if I should feel hopeful or heartbroken that even though Poppy has never been in love, she’s still chasing her happily ever after. “So, what brought you back here if not a broken heart?”
Poppy glances out at the horizon as we walk. “Who said it wasn’t a broken heart?”
“Oh. I just assumed—”
“It was my dad.”
“Your dad?”
“Yep.” Poppy lifts her shoulders and drops them again. “It’s a long story, but the bottom line is that he broke my heart, and that’s why I’m here. I needed a safe place to clean up some of the mess he made, and nobody’s ever felt safer to me than…”
Her steps slow until we’re both at a standstill, and she’s gazing up at me.
I swallow deeply. “Daisy?” I suggest.
“Yeah,” she agrees in a whisper. “Daisy.”
I fantasize for a moment that I’m her safe place and the man she’s been searching for all these years. I pretend that she’s the future I’ve been avoiding for almost as long.
This last month with Poppy as Izzy’s nanny has been the brightest in a long time. I’m ashamed to admit that because Izzy has been my guiding light since the minute she was born, but somewhere along the way, I let the rest of my life grow dull, and I can’t live like that. Izzy’s the center of my world, but she can’t be my only happiness. That’s too big a responsibility for anyone, let alone my little girl.
Would it be just as wrong to think of Poppy as my own ray of sunshine? Because that’s what this feels like. Being with her energizes me, and I don’t want to give her up, but nobody can bottle the sun. I need to set my expectations now instead of hoping Poppy will change who she is for me. I made that mistake once, and I won’t make it again.
“Uh, hey,” Finn says as he rounds a curve in the path ahead. He’s walking toward us with Izzy on his hip and a puzzled look on his face as he glances at me and Poppy. When his questioning look turns mildly entertained, I jump back to put some distance between us, but I feel like an asshole when I do it.
I know I’m an asshole when Poppy does the same with two backward steps for my one.
Finn smirks as if to say he isn’t fooled, and I blow out a breath. Fuck. He knows. But any worry or guilt I feel instantly evaporates when I notice Izzy’s hands covering her mouth, then the blood trickling over her fingers, and I rush to take my daughter from my brother’s arms.
“What happened?” I ask. “Are you hurt? Did you fall?”
Izzy drops her arms and thrusts out her hand to Poppy beside me, revealing more blood dripping down her chin, a ghoulish grin on her pink-cheeked face, and a tiny white tooth wedged between her fingers.
“It fell out!” There’s a whistle to her words that wasn’t there before as Izzy waves her bloody fingers under my nose. With a silent sigh of relief, I rear back and squint at the tiny white shrapnel of bone between her fingers, then grin at her gap-toothed smile. “I was wobbling it, and Uncle Finn told me to yank it, and I did, and it fell out.”
“Uncle Finn told you to yank it?”
I glare at my brother, who shrugs like it’s no big deal, but there’s a glint of amusement in his brown eyes. “She didn’t have to do it.”
I throw him an exasperated scowl, then set Izzy on her feet. “Congratulations, Little Bee,” I say, surprised by an unexpected wave of emotion. How can it be that my baby girl has reached that stage of life when she’s losing teeth?
“Let me see that,” Poppy says, and when Izzy transfers the tooth to her palm to give us all a better look, Poppy responds with an impressed gasp. “That’s the prettiest tooth I ever saw! Premium quality. All the extra brushing before bed gave it a real good shine, don’t you think?”
Izzy nods proudly. “Yep. It’s got to be worth ten dollars.”
Poppy snorts. “At least! Maybe even twelve. And remember what I told you about the tooth fairy?”
“She’s all about quality,” Izzy replies. “The first tooth sets the price for the rest, and each one is worth more than the last.”
“Exactly.”
I absorb their little exchange with increasing alarm. Poppy’s going to cost me hundreds of dollars at this rate. Isn’t a kid’s first tooth worth, like, fifty cents?
Finn chuckles as I turn my incredulous glare onto Poppy, who arches her brows in reply.
“There’s a spot not too far from here where we can stop to rinse out Izzy’s mouth and have something to eat,” Finn says as he checks his watch. “Then it might be time to head back.”
“Yes! I can eat apples again.” Izzy squirms out of my arms, landing on the ground like a cat and speeding down the trail. “I know where we’re going. Follow me.”
“I’ll go,” Finn says with a smirk I’d like to wipe off his smug face. “You kids take your time.”
“He knows,” Poppy says at the exact moment I do.
She pins me with a worried look, her brow furrowed and her teeth worrying at her lip. “Should we— Is it going to be a problem?”
“I’ll take care of Finn,” I assure her. “Unless you want to—”
“No,” she says. “I don’t.”
No, she doesn’t want to tell Daisy about us? Or no, she doesn’t want this thing between us to end? I decide it doesn’t matter. The result is the same, but I let myself think for a minute about coming clean with my sister. Going public with our relationship. Letting Izzy fall in love with Poppy and letting my daughter believe that this time, it’ll last forever. Would it be so bad?
When Poppy disappears in the summer and leaves me here to clean up all the mess? Yeah. It would be that bad.
So, I kiss her quickly and remind myself—again—to enjoy what I have while I have it.
“Twelve dollars?” I ask, and when she grins like the devil, I bite back a smile of my own. “Let’s go eat lunch, and we can talk a little more about the tooth fairy and dental health and the concept of inflation. And if I can’t convince her that twelve bucks for tooth number one is completely ridiculous, I’m blaming you.”
“Fair. And if I can’t convince her to up the price to fifteen dollars, I’m handing in my nanny badge.”
She reaches up on tiptoes to brush her lips against mine, and when we’re walking along the trail again, I find myself wondering how much mess and color it would take to keep Poppy in my life—and if I’m reckless enough to try it.