29. Dylan
twenty-nine
Dylan
It’s late afternoon when Annalise texts to let me know she’s on her way, so I’m there to meet the hired car as it pulls up in front of the Silver Leaf Ranch & Vineyard reception house. I’m nervous, but I’m always nervous when Annalise comes to visit.
At first, before Izzy, it was because she intimidated me and challenged me, and I was desperate to impress her. She was this sexy, smart, sophisticated city woman who kept coming back to small-town Aster Springs for the single purpose of dirty weekends with me. I was young and stupid, and her attention made me feel like a fucking hero.
After Izzy, I waited months at a time for her to fit us into her schedule, anxiously hoping for the day she’d come to her senses and choose to stay. If not for me, then for her daughter. But it never happened. Annalise made time for us, sure, but the terms of our relationship never changed: she was here to fulfill an obligation, and I was expected to honor mine. To make her come.
It took me too long to admit to myself I felt used, and even longer to say no , but at least that’s one line I don’t need to draw today. We haven’t slept together since Izzy was born.
Not that she hasn’t tried.
“Hello, Dylan,” she says as she steps out from the backseat of her hired car. She slides her sunglasses from her nose and moves in to kiss me lightly on the cheek. There’s a glimmer of predatory amusement in her gaze as it skims over my long hair and stubbled cheeks. “It’s good to see you.”
I return her greeting quickly before putting a little distance between us. “It’s nice to see you too.”
The driver heaves a suitcase from the trunk, and I accept it with a nod and an eagerness to stop standing still.
“Are we headed straight to the cabin?” she asks before she glances around. “Where is Isobel?”
I start up the path toward the restaurant. “She’s with the, uh…” I cringe at having to use this word, but I didn’t think ahead, and now I’m stuck. “The nanny.”
“The nanny?” Annalise returns her glasses to her nose as she walks beside me. “You didn’t tell me you hired a nanny.”
“She’s a family friend. Poppy. I mean, Penelope. She started not long after Christmas.”
“Is there a reason you didn’t tell me about Poppy? I mean, Penelope?”
She does it without meaning to, I’m sure of it. The five-foot-four loom. The assumption she’s smarter than everyone else in the room. The unshakable belief she has something everyone else wants. The confidence. It’s what attracted me to her in the first place, and it’s what’s kept me from being the father I need to be ever since.
I pause on the path halfway between the reception house and the restaurant and turn to face Annalise. Poppy and I spent our last three date nights writing notes to help me prepare for this conversation, and even though she’s not here, I lean into Poppy’s support now. Poppy’s confidence—in me.
“A lot has changed these last few months and I do need to talk to you about it,” I say. “But I need to do it at my own pace and in my own words. Can we drop the cat-and-mouse game? Please? I’ll collect Izzy for dinner in an hour. That’ll give us time to lay a few things on the table.”
Annalise crosses her arms and lifts her chin, probably spearing me with a cool glance that I can’t quite make out through the darkness of her shades. “Very well. Let’s go.”
The restaurant has already seated a handful of guests for dinner, but my usual table is waiting for us in the far corner. Annalise removes her sunglasses as I offer her a chair, then take the one opposite her, lifting a hand toward our sommelier, who nods and fetches us two glasses of Silver Leaf red. Annalise takes a sip before she sets her crossed arms on the table and regards me with a tilt of her head.
“Is Isobel well?”
The question takes me off guard, and I feel like a dick for assuming Annalise wouldn’t care enough about our daughter to ask. If I’ve learned anything from my past mistakes, it’s to not let my own baggage impact the choices I make for my kid. And that starts with cleaning the slate. Giving Annalise the benefit of the doubt.
“She’s developed anxiety,” I say.
Annalise has never been the emotional kind, so the crease between her brows speaks volumes. “When? And why?”
I sigh, pausing to pick my words. I don’t want this to sound like an accusation. “It began last November.”
“Before or after I was here?”
“After.”
Annalise blinks, then nods. “Go on.”
“She stopped falling asleep on her own. I have to lay with her every night, and she won’t go to bed for anyone else.”
It’s not until I say it that I realize that’s not entirely true. She fell asleep with Poppy last weekend, but it doesn’t feel kind to bring that up now.
“She was having trouble at her previous school,” Annalise points out. “She’s gifted, which means her brain doesn’t respond to stimulus in ways we might expect, and she’s adjusting to a new routine. Those things could be the problem.”
“I agree,” I say. “I don’t think there’s any one issue here. It’s a combination of different things.”
“We need to consult a child psychologist,” Annalise replies, reaching for her phone.
This is something I’ve been contemplating for weeks now, and Poppy made the same suggestion two nights ago. Only I’ve got a slightly different plan.
I stop Annalise before she has a chance to pull up the search function. “I’ve already reached out to three family psychologists in San Francisco. Izzy isn’t the only one who needs support. I need help, Annalise. It’s hard doing this alone, and the older Izzy gets, the more complex it is. Our family is unconventional, and we need to make some changes. I don’t have all the answers, and I don’t think any one thing is responsible for Izzy’s anxiety, but…”
Annalise sets down her phone and turns her full attention on me. “But…what?”
I flex my hands into fists under the table and talk through the worry of saying the wrong thing and pushing Annalise offside.
“The morning she found out about your visit this week, Izzy came home sick from school,” I explain. “She was anxious about what your arrival meant for her, and whether Poppy would leave because of it. I think Izzy’s struggling with the concepts of separation and permanence.”
Annalise lifts her chin, and if she were anyone else, I’d think she was steeling herself. “Okay.”
“I’m as much to blame for not talking about this earlier,” I go on, “but I think our parenting arrangements need to change. They’re too casual, and Izzy needs routine and predictability. She needs to know when you’re visiting and for how long. And it’s confusing for all of us when you stay here on the ranch. Are we a family? Are we not? Are her parents together? Are they not? Izzy needs clear boundaries to better understand the relationship between you and me, especially now that…”
“Now that…?” Annalise leans in and examines me from underneath her lashes, eyes alight with shrewd intelligence. “You’re involved with the nanny?”
I freeze and watch with a kind of stunned detachment as Annalise raises her glass to her lips.
“I’m in love,” I say when I finally find my tongue. “We’re in love. How did you know?”
“You forget I know you ,” she replies, which tells me nothing—or maybe everything. “Are you going to marry her?”
“Yes.” I’m not even surprised by the vehemence in my tone. The answer is yes. One way or another, I’m putting a ring on Poppy’s finger.
Annalise sets down her glass with a small smile. “And does Poppy—I mean, Penelope—know this?”
I chuckle quietly at her arrogance and shake my head as I slump back in my seat. “Poppy. And no, not yet. I’ve got a few wrinkles to iron out first, but I’m working on it.”
She nods. “I want you to be happy, Dylan, but we’re talking about Isobel here. If I’m reading between the lines correctly, you want me to be involved in your sessions with the family psychologist? Use that as a forum to negotiate new parameters around visitation?”
I sag a little and try not to sigh with relief. “Yes. That’s exactly what I was hoping for.”
“And Poppy? I’d like to meet her while I’m here. If she’s going to be my daughter’s stepmother, I’d prefer to be on good terms. Is she free tonight?”
I almost can’t believe how reasonable she’s being. “I’d like that. Poppy would too. We just…” I glance around the room and then drop my head. “We haven’t told anyone we’re together yet. If you could keep this to yourself while you’re here, I’d appreciate it.”
“Would you like to tell me why?”
“It’s…complicated.”
“And Isobel?” Annalise’s tone turns a little sharp, and I try not to feel accused. “What does she know about this?”
She has a right to be protective and I should welcome it—she should have Izzy’s best interests at heart—but she’s never held me to account before. Then again, I’m the one who wanted change. I can’t pick and choose the consequences.
Still, it’s hard not to sound defensive. “My first priority is Izzy’s well-being, and it always will be. I have no intention of confusing Izzy and won’t say anything until things between Poppy and me are made official. She knows Poppy is a family friend—Daisy’s best friend—and that Poppy is her nanny. She also adores Poppy, and they’ve grown very close. I think—I know—Izzy will be happy for us.”
“All right.” Annalise drops her napkin in her lap. “I’ll leave it to you to suggest a suitable family therapist, but given my travel commitments, I assume you’re comfortable with my attending virtually?”
“I guessed that would be the case,” I agree.
“Good.” Annalise nods to herself. “I’m glad we had this conversation, Dylan, but if there’s nothing more we need to discuss, I’d like to see my daughter.”
Both Daisy and Poppy are at the house when I arrive to collect Izzy. She looks adorable in her boots and jeans with her hair brushed until it shines, and when I offer her my hand, she latches on and doesn’t let go.
“Are you all right, Little Bee?” I ask.
“Yes. I’m excited to see Mommy.”
I give her hand an encouraging squeeze and lead her out the front door with Daisy and Poppy hovering like mama bears. And while it’s nice to know Izzy and I have support in our corner, I would have liked a moment alone with Poppy to let her know how things went with Annalise. I settle for sending a quick text message on my way back to the restaurant.
Annalise is on board with the changes we want to make, and she wants to meet you while she’s here. What do you think?
Poppy
She does?
Is that what you want?
My fingers fly across the screen. I can almost feel Poppy’s insecurities pulsing in the blue light.
Yes. That’s what I want. You’re a part of my life as well as Izzy’s. I’m making sure Annalise knows how special you are to us.
The three dots of her incoming reply fade in and out, and I grin as I picture her thinking and rethinking the best way to take my compliment. It’s no surprise that she breezes right past it.
Poppy
Okay. I’m going to head home and change. I’ll sneak back later.
Annalise stays in Cabin 14. If you wait until Izzy’s asleep, I can leave her with Daisy and meet you there.
Poppy
That sounds good. Thanks.
Dinner is easier than I thought it would be. Izzy, like always, shines in the spotlight, and I sit back while she and Annalise volley back and forth over topics that are beyond me. The places Annalise has been to since we saw her last—Cairo, Johannesburg, Rome—and the work she’s done. The books Izzy has read and the extended math theory she’s learning at school.
I slip away during dessert, making myself busy in the kitchen to give them some alone time, then return when it’s time to take Izzy home to bed.
“Izzy has soccer in the morning,” I say as Annalise helps Izzy with her coat. “Poppy usually takes her, but—”
“I’d like to do that,” Annalise says before she glances down at our daughter. “If that’s all right with Isobel.”
Izzy shoots me an uncertain glance, and I crouch down to look her in the eye. “It’s up to you,” I murmur quietly.
“Will Poppy be sad if I say yes?” she whispers.
“Absolutely not. Poppy wants what you want. And so do I.”
Izzy plays with the zipper on her jacket. “I want Mommy to see me score.”
I give Izzy a kiss on the cheek. “I’m proud of you for expressing your feelings. And I think Mommy would like that too.”
I stand with Izzy’s hand in mine. “You can take my car,” I say to Annalise. “Is eight a.m. okay?”
“Perfect.”
A server from the restaurant takes Annalise’s luggage and walks her to her cabin while I take Izzy home. She skips beside me along the dusty dirt path, kicking at rocks and scuffing up her boots, but I’m too cheered by her good mood to scold her for it. She loves her mother. I know that. Izzy is always happy when she’s here. It’s the leaving part that’s difficult. Hopefully, I’ve made gains tonight to fix that.
“How did it go?” Daisy asks as I walk through the front door with Izzy.
“Good!” Izzy twirls her way to the stairs. “Mommy’s taking me to soccer tomorrow.”
Daisy raises an eyebrow in my direction. “ Annalise is taking Izzy to soccer?”
“Yes.” I pause with my foot on the first step as Izzy runs ahead to her bedroom. “And Izzy is happy about that, okay?”
Daisy raises her hands. “I didn’t say anything.”
“Your face says it all,” I reply. “Just…leave it. I had a talk with Annalise tonight, and we’re going to make some changes. Formalize her visitation schedule. Start seeing a family therapist to help Izzy manage her feelings about…”
“About you and Annalise?”
I shake my head to reject the incoming fatigue. “There is no me and Annalise.”
Daisy hums, and I glare at her in return.
“But there is a me and Izzy and Annalise, and there always will be. We’re her parents. We have to find a way to make this work.”
Daisy narrows her eyes, and I meet her stare until she throws up her hands. “Fine.”
“I need to get Izzy ready for bed, then I’m going over to see Annalise.”
“Dylan.” Daisy reaches for my hand and clutches it tightly. “Please stop doing this to yourself. Stop following her around like a puppy.”
“I’m not a fucking puppy,” I snap, harsher than I intend, but I’m suddenly feeling the weight of Izzy and Annalise and Poppy and Daisy. A weight that a week ago felt lighter than feathers.
Daisy flinches and releases my hand, and I drag it down my face with a regretful sigh. “It won’t take long. Is Charlie here? Can you sit with Izzy until I get back?”
“Charlie’s still at the office,” Daisy replies.
“Okay. Fine. Let me get Izzy sorted, and I’ll be back down in half an hour.”
Izzy already has her teeth brushed and her pajamas on when I step into her room. I switch out the light and turn on her little pink lamp, and when I tuck her in under the covers, she shifts to one side and pats the space next to her. “Come on, Daddy.”
I fold myself onto the bed and she snuggles in against me.
“Did you have a good day?” I intentionally go with a simple question that I hope won’t confuse her. I don’t want to force her to talk about her mother if she doesn’t want to. I also want her to know I’m here to listen.
“It was good.”
“That’s good.”
“Daddy?”
“Yes?”
“Ethan has two mommies.”
Fuck me with the curve balls. I nod slowly to give myself a chance to think.
“I didn’t know that, but lots of kids have two mommies. Some kids have two daddies as well.”
“Mmhm. One of his mommies lives by herself in one house. His other mommy lives with his daddy in another house. He has his own bedroom in both houses, but he has to pack his clothes and his guitar when he goes from one bedroom to the other. He says everyone buys him lots of toys.”
Oh. My head leaps from how best to explain diverse families to how best to explain divorce. In the end, I decide to let Izzy ask questions so I can figure out exactly where she’s going with this. Last thing I need to do is make a complicated subject even more confusing.
“It sounds like Ethan trusts you with big feelings, Little Bee. He’s lucky to have you as his friend.”
Izzy shrugs like I’ve completely missed her point. “Could I have two mommies?”
“Could you—” I clear my throat and wipe the frown off my face. “You want two mommies?”
“Mmhm. You could ask Poppy to be my other mommy, couldn’t you? Or maybe I can do it. I think she’d say yes. She says I love you every day, and I always say it back. That’s what mommies do, isn’t it?”
I blink back tears and fight to find my voice. “I—”
Izzy tips her head back with a noisy yawn. “I don’t have any words left, so I’m going to sleep now. Okay, Daddy?”
I exhale with a little relief. My emotional reserves are almost spent, I’ve still got a big conversation ahead with Annalise and Poppy, and now my heart is pounding because all I can think about is Poppy in a white dress.
“Okay, Little Bee.” I rub her back in slow circles. “We can talk again tomorrow.”
She’s out in fifteen minutes, and my pulse is racing with the need to act, so as soon as it’s safe to move, I rush down the stairs to look for Daisy. She’s not in the living room or the kitchen, but there’s a note stuck to the fridge.
Taking Finn out for beers. Be home late. Don’t wait up. —Daze.
I scowl at the paper, then snatch it up and smash it into a ball. She did this to keep me here and away from Annalise. Thinking fast, I pull out my phone and send a text to Charlie.
Hey. Will you be home soon?
Charlie
I’ve got at least another hour of paperwork here. Do you need me?
I tap out a reply, then erase it and start again, removing all mention of Annalise in case my other sister thinks she knows what’s best for me too.
I was planning to do a little work myself, but Daisy is out. Any chance you could be here for Izzy tonight?
Charlie
I can be there in half an hour. Forty-five minutes tops.
Dammit. I reply with a thumbs-up, then swipe through to my chat with Poppy.
I’m stuck at the house for a little while longer. Wait for me.
I take a seat at the table and stare at my phone, leg bouncing impatiently as I watch the minutes tick by and let my thoughts wander. Poppy. Izzy. Annalise. Charlie. Daisy. Finn…
I can’t believe Finn is out for drinks with Daisy. Of all the nights for him to decide he’s up for a social outing, he decides tonight is the night to brave a crowd?
Suspicion raises the hairs on my neck, and I open a new message.
Hey, bro. Daisy said you two are out tonight. Where’d you go?
Finn texts back straightaway.
Finn
Don’t know what Daze told you, but I’m at home. If she’s gone out tonight, it’s not to see me.
Shit. There’s only one place she’d go and have to lie to me about it.
Can you come to the house? I’m on my own with Izzy and I think our little sister is about to pick a fight with Annalise.
But Poppy’s already there waiting for me.
And Annalise knows.
Finn
Be there in ten.
I sink into my chair with relief before my phone chimes again.
Finn
But I’m going to say this first. You should have told Daze the truth from the start.
I don’t bother sending a reply. What’s there to say? I’ve got a sinking feeling we’re about to find out my brother is one hundred percent right.