30. Poppy
thirty
Poppy
Silver Leaf’s guest accommodations aren’t too far from the reception house, a cozy row of cabins that back onto the property’s vineyards, but it’s dark now, and all I can see is the gently undulating shape of the Sonoma Valley horizon in the distance and the familiar star-studded sky overhead.
I stand in the watery porch light at the door to Cabin 14 and take a deep breath. I can do this. I can. I can meet the woman who gave Dylan a child and then all but disappeared from his life. I can withhold judgment and make a good impression. I can make it clear that Dylan is mine now. And I can tell her I love him and their little girl.
My breath puffs out from my inflated cheeks. I can fight for the family and the happily ever after that’s almost mine. I can defeat the scary ex-girlfriend. Easy.
My phone vibrates in my tote, and I pull it out to find a message from Dylan lighting up the screen.
Dylan
I’m stuck at the house for a little while longer. Wait for me.
I don’t know if I’m relieved or disappointed, but I heart his text anyway, drop my phone back into my bag, and quietly creep off the porch. I plan to loiter in the shadows until Dylan gets here when another light buzzes to life, this time on the porch at the rear of the cabin. I know Dylan told me to wait for him, but curiosity wins out over caution, and I sneak around the side of the white-clad building, trying hard to remain invisible.
Not hard enough, apparently.
“Hello? Is someone there?”
Shit.
“Uh, yes. Hi.” I step into the light, cursing under my breath when I roll my ankle over a rock in the semi-darkness, then squint up at the shape of a woman standing on the other side of the porch railing. “It’s just, uh… Just me. I was waiting for Dylan. And you—I think.”
Shut up. Shut up. Shut up! If you can’t say something at least semi-coherent, don’t say anything at all!
“Poppy?” she says. “Or Penelope, if you prefer?”
“Yes. That’s me. Poppy is fine.” I scurry around to the steps and hurry up to the porch, extending my hand before I’ve even lifted my head. “Nice to meet…”
Sweet baby Jesus. This woman is sexy in that way women were sexy in the era of black-and-white. She’s wearing pantyhose and patent leather heels, a cream-colored pencil skirt that skims her knees, and a black silk blouse that dips precariously low in front. Lips painted classic red. Long dark hair spilling to the small of her back. It’s the same coffee color as Izzy’s hair. Has the same soft curl to it as well. Izzy has her eyes too. Deep brown and intelligent.
I suddenly feel very…small.
She accepts my hand with a friendly enough smile and is polite enough to ignore the fact that my jaw is on the floor. “I’m Annalise. It’s nice to meet you too.” She raises her other hand to show off the glass of red balanced in her manicured fingers. “Would you like a glass of wine? The red is open, but there’s white as well.”
“No, thank you.”
She lifts one brow and purses her mouth as if to say seriously?
“Okay,” I cave. “A glass of red sounds good. Thanks.”
She gestures to the outdoor armchairs off to one side of the back porch. “Take a seat. It won’t take long.”
I lower myself onto the far seat, perch on the edge with my tote at my feet, and accept the wine Annalise offers when she returns. She sits opposite me in her tight skirt and silk blouse that falls just right, kicks off her shoes, and tucks her bare feet up underneath her legs in a move that should make her look less composed, not more. But she does it with such class that I can’t help but admire her.
I cast a glance down at my best jeans, my cleanest boots, my most expensive sweater that probably only cost a fraction of Annalise’s pantyhose budget and feel like a kid with scraped knees and smudges on her cheeks.
What the hell does Dylan see in me when he’s spent the last eight years looking at her ?
“So,” Annalise says. “Dylan tells me that the two of you are involved.”
Oh. So we’re just going to dive right in. Good. Great. Wonderful.
I set my untouched wine on the low table between us and turn to Annalise. “I love Dylan. And I love Izzy. I want to spend the rest of my life with them. I’ll do anything to make sure they’re happy. Anything.”
There. If that’s not a declaration of what this family means to me, I don’t know what is. It feels powerful to finally say it. Powerful and terrifying, and I straighten my spine as I ready myself to go to war. If this is ever going to work, Annalise needs to like me. Or at least respect me.
And if I can get Annalise to do that, maybe I’ll feel more hopeful about convincing Daisy to do the same. Maybe.
I don’t know what I’m expecting from Annalise, but it’s more than the shallow nod she gives me. “Dylan says you’ve been working as his nanny this year?”
“Oh. Yes. Nearly three months now.”
“And that’s what you do? You’re a nanny?”
Her tone is level—too level. Wiped clean of even a hint of scorn, but I hear it anyway.
“Yes. I’m a nanny.”
“You’ve always been a nanny?”
“Yes. I’ve always been a nanny.”
“I’ve offended you.”
“No.”
Again she hits me with that eyebrow.
“A little,” I admit, then add, “A lot. It’s not an easy job, you know? Taking care of children is a big responsibility. I’m not an international lawyer or anything, but nannying is hard.”
“I have no doubt.” Annalise sips her wine and eases back into her seat. “I’m not trying to upset you, Poppy. I’m genuinely interested. I have to be if you’re going to be an important figure in Isobel’s life.”
“Oh.” I sigh and pick up my wine. Annalise is so formal. I still feel like a kid, this time one that’s been invited to sit at the grown-ups’ table. “I apologize. The truth is I’m nervous.”
“I understand.” Annalise regards me with a thoughtful stare. “Would it surprise you to learn that I’m uneasy too?”
“You?” I sweep my eyes up and down her perfectly put-together figure. “Uh, yeah?”
That earns me a hint of a smile. “You feel judged for being a nanny. I feel judged for being a working woman who relinquished custody of her daughter in order to pursue her career.”
“I didn’t—”
“Poppy. Please. Do me the courtesy of not pretending you don’t judge me. Even a little. If for no other reason than for Isobel, our relationship should be built on mutual honesty and respect. Don’t you agree?”
“I do.” I nibble my lip and wonder if this is a trap. “Okay. Fine. I wouldn’t go so far as to say that I judge you, but I don’t understand how you could walk away from Dylan and Izzy. They’re… They’re amazing. The best people in the world. My whole world—if I’m being honest.”
“I agree. They are the very best people.”
I know this woman is among the smartest humans I’ll ever meet, but even if I were just as smart, her answer still wouldn’t make sense to me.
“So…why?”
“I only ever wanted to practice law,” she says. “I was a child who preferred to read than make friends, and I became a woman who liked order and autonomy. Education was my world, and the law became my love. I never imagined being a mother. I never dreamed about having a family. When I fell pregnant with Isobel, I wondered if that might change, but it didn’t. As much as I love my daughter—and I do love her—I’m not willing to give up everything I’ve worked for in exchange for a life in a small town. It wouldn’t be fair to me, but more importantly, it wouldn’t be fair to Isobel—or to Dylan.”
I stare into my glass with a frown. “I don’t understand.”
“People might believe that I’m selfish to not stay in Aster Springs for Isobel’s benefit, or that I’ve been selfish to put Dylan in the position of raising her as a single father. But I disagree. I don’t settle for the second best in life. Not ever. And I don’t expect my daughter or Dylan to settle either. I wouldn’t make a good mother. And as fond as I am of Dylan—as much as I like him and respect him and appreciate him—I do not love him. I wouldn’t make a good wife.”
A vise I didn’t know was around my heart releases with a snap I can almost hear. Muscles I didn’t know were tensed relax with silent sighs.
Annalise drops her head to one side as she watches me. “You’re relieved.”
“A little.” I roll my eyes as she quirks that eyebrow at me like some darn lie detector. “Okay. A lot. I don’t want to feel like I’m competing with you. I don’t think I would win.”
“Really? And why would you think that?”
I flap my hand at her like the answer is obvious. “You’re smart and worldly and poised and… Look at you.”
Annalise laughs from her throat. “I’m not your competition, Poppy. And I would never force my way into Dylan and Isobel’s lives. Not when somewhere out there is a woman more worthy of them than me.”
The look she gives me makes me shift in my seat. Could she really believe that woman is me?
“So. Help me get to know the woman who wants to raise my daughter,” she says. “Did you always want to be a nanny?”
I try to give her the story I tell everyone, even myself, about the reasons I’m a nanny, but my lips won’t cooperate.
“No,” I tell her honestly. “I wanted to be a business owner. And a cosmetologist.”
“Oh? So why aren’t you?”
I throw back my first gulp of wine and tell her the truth.
“I wasn’t a very good student, and my childhood was possibly the very opposite of yours. I chose people and chaos over books and order every time. I’ve come to realize that I probably have learning difficulties that require support and adjustments. But at the time, everyone—including me—assumed I wasn’t very bright.”
“Do you still believe that?”
“I—” The answer sticks in my throat because I can’t remember the last time I gave the question any thought. It’s something I shy away from, even in my own head, but something about Annalise’s gaze pins me down and forces me to admit what I really think about myself.
“No,” I say. “I don’t. I think I could do it.”
“It’s never too late, you know.”
“That’s what Dylan says, but…”
“But… What?”
“It’ll be difficult. I tend to run away from things that are difficult.”
Annalise narrows her eyes over her glass. “I’d like to think that the woman who wants to be a role model and mother figure to my daughter is made of tougher stuff than that.”
I laugh to myself. A single huff that goes no further than my throat. “I am. I just wish I didn’t have to be.”
“Life is challenging,” Annalise agrees. “This relationship with Dylan… He explained your relationship wasn’t public yet. Another one of those challenges?”
“Daisy,” I confirm. “We don’t know how she’s going to react. She’s so protective of Dylan and Izzy, and we’ve been best friends all our lives, but I’m afraid she’s going to think I’m not good enough for her family and that I’ve betrayed her by falling for her brother.”
“And lying about it?”
“Yes.”
“I’m not in a position to comment on Daisy—she’s never been a fan of mine—but I’d like to think that someone who knows you and loves you as well as she does would welcome you into her family. You say Daisy is like a sister to you?”
All I can do is nod. My throat is sharp with guilt and regret and wishes that I’d handled this whole situation better. Smarter. Annalise is right. Daisy loves me. If I’d just been honest with her from the start…
“Then tell me, Poppy,” Annalise says. “If Daisy opposes your relationship with Dylan, is there a good reason why I should support it?”
“Because I love him,” I say without hesitation. “He’s the kind of man all men should be. Solid and smart and sensual. Responsible and funny. And watching him with Izzy is like watching magic happen. He’s the most incredible father—patient and protective and dependable. Unconditional and so, so kind. And he believes in me in a way nobody ever has. All those things I’ve never been brave enough to try feel within reach now that I’ve got Dylan. I can go back to college and build my own business. I can be his wife. Be a mother.”
I set down my wine and lean closer to the woman across from me. I need her to hear what I’m saying—not just the words but how deeply and desperately I mean them.
“Dylan is my person, Annalise. I’ve known since I was twelve years old that there’ll never be another man for me.”
The sharp crack of a twig underfoot sounds from the darkness clinging to the cabin. My head jerks up just as a slender shadow detaches from the blackness, and my heart thuds hard against my ribs as the shape steps into the light.
“Daisy,” I say, rushing down the stairs and chasing her as she strides toward the lamplit dirt road running past the cabins. “Wait. Let me explain.”
She spins around and spears me with an injured glare, and my whole world crashes down around me.
“What is there to explain?” she asks. “You’ve been lying to me for months about sleeping with my brother, and now I find you sipping wine and spilling all your secrets to a stranger.” Daisy waves an arm toward Annalise, who I guess is watching us from the front porch of her cabin, but I can’t drag my eyes away from Daisy to check. “Do I have it right?”
I notice my cheeks are damp before I realize I’m crying. “Yes, but—”
“How could you lie to me like that?” Daisy drops her face into her hands, then drags them back over her hair as she lifts her chin. “We tell each other everything. Everything . I’ve never kept a secret from you. Why didn’t you just…just… trust me?”
I brave a step forward, my hand reaching out of its own accord, but Daisy takes a step back.
“I wanted to,” I tell her. “I swear. I just… I was scared. I didn’t think you’d approve, and I didn’t want to hurt you.”
“Hurt me? Why would you loving my brother hurt me?”
And suddenly, all the excuses I’ve made these last few months make no sense. Not even to me. “Daisy—”
“I can’t do this right now,” she says, starting to walk away. “I need to be alone for a while.”
“Please,” I beg, ignoring the way my voice cracks when I speak. “Can’t we talk about it?”
Daisy pauses and turns back. “I’m too hurt to talk.”
“I’m sorry, Daze.” It comes out as a whisper, and I don’t know why. “I’m so sorry.”
She shakes her head with a sad kind of smile, a wry kind of chuckle. “Me too.”
I swallow a sob as she turns and strides away, watching with hope as Dylan appears on the path ahead, then anguish as she passes him without looking up or acknowledging he even exists.
He pauses, calling to her once as she walks out into the night, then glances at me and closes the distance with a worried jog.
“What happened?”
“She overheard me talking with Annalise. She knows.”
Behind us, Annalise disappears into her cabin, and Dylan sighs. He pulls me against his chest and presses his mouth to the top of my head.
“It’ll be okay,” he says. “I’ll fix it. I’ll fix everything.”
“I don’t know how,” I mutter, surprised at the anger in my voice. But it’s not for him. It’s for me and all the ways I’m reckless and thoughtless and selfish and lost . “I’ve betrayed Daisy’s trust. God knows what Annalise thinks of what she just witnessed. And you’re stuck in the middle. You have to think about your sister and your daughter and the mother of your child…and me.” I try to laugh, but it comes out strangled. “Tell me how you’re going to fix that.”
“ Shh ,” he says. “Everything will work out. I promise.”
I want to believe him, but I don’t know how. I can’t see any way out of this mess.