Chapter 38
THIRTY-EIGHT
F ord
It’s Monday. Landyn’s back at the office, and so am I, and for the first time in what feels like forever, things are going pretty smoothly.
I can feel it in the way my shoulders seem to have dropped half an inch, in the muscles that have slowly unclenched.
The media storm surrounding Cove has died down for the time being—thanks in part to Landyn and the team’s had work and in part to the fact that the CEO of another local company just got caught embezzling funds.
New day, new scandal. I’m not complaining.
The weight that’s been pressing on my chest for months feels a little lighter. For now.
As for Landyn and me—things between us aren’t perfect. Not even close. There’s still plenty of anger and regret there, but there’s also something new. Something exciting.
Poppy.
I think about her all the time. It’s only been a few days, but already the thought of a world without her in it feels impossible to imagine.
Her tiny voice, her infectious giggle, her nonstop stream of questions and stories.
When she ran toward me with a photo album like she couldn’t wait to share a piece of her life with me I thought my heart would explode right there on the spot.
I didn’t know I could love someone I barely know this much, but here we are.
The anger I felt when Landyn first told me about her—when the truth detonated everything I thought I knew—has dulled.
It’s not gone, not completely, but it’s mellowed, settled.
The ache has turned into something else entirely.
When I think about Poppy now, it’s not rage that floods my veins, it’s this wild, all-consuming protective instinct.
All I need is for everything in her little world to be okay.
And all I want to do is get to know her better.
This morning, Landyn popped into my office to ask if she could leave a bit early to pick Poppy up from school. With Carolyn still recovering and no after-school care set up yet, she has a lot on her plate. When I asked if I could come too, she looked surprised but then she said yes.
So now it’s 2:45, and I’m grabbing my keys from my desk and trying without success to keep my nervous energy under control.
Noah peeks his head into my office, Jesse not far behind him. “You heading out?”
“Yeah,” I say. “I’m going with Lan to pick up Poppy.”
He grins, that rare kind of genuine smile that cuts through our usual sibling gibes and sarcasm. “You’re a dad now, huh?”
Something flickers in my chest. I nod.
“Don’t let her hustle you for snacks,” Jesse warns. “Kids are pros at that.”
“Noted.”
He leans on the doorframe, already mid-smirk. “So, how’s it feel? Knowing you made a whole person? ”
“Feels…big,” I answer honestly. “Like I’m still catching up.”
They’re both curious and they’ve earned the right to be, but they’ve been careful not to push too hard, trying to give Landyn and me space to work through it. I’m grateful for that, but they’ve also made it known that they can’t wait to meet their niece.
I check the time again. 2:50.
I grab my sunglasses and head for the parking lot, where I said I’d meet Landyn.
I’ve been to hundreds of meetings in my life.
Sat through investor pitches, boardroom brawls, interviews, presentations, crisis talks, but nothing has my heart racing like the thought of hopefully seeing Poppy’s face light up when she sees me waiting outside her school.
Landyn sees me as soon as I reach the parking lot, lifting a hand in a small wave.
“You made it,” she says as I approach.
“Wouldn’t miss it,” I tell her, voice steady even though I’m a mess on the inside. “You want me to drive?”
She eyes me for a beat, like she’s deciding whether or not it’s a good idea to be in a car with me. Eventually she nods. “Sure, but I need to grab Poppy’s car seat.”
“I can get it,” I tell her, feeling a need to be helpful, to be involved. I second guess myself when she opens the back door to her small car, and I can’t figure out how to get the seat out of it.
Landyn watches me with an amused smile tugging at her lips. “You okay?”
I shake my head. “I built an entire company, but I think this may be more complicated. Any tips?”
She explains that the booster seat has hooks that attach to metal bars stuffed between the seats. After some trial and error and Landyn telling me what to do, I finally get it free. I set it up in the back seat of my truck, triple checking every attachment.
“I think it’s good,” she tells me as I give it one more solid shake.
“Just trying not to screw this up. This feels like a test,” I mutter.
“It kind of is.”
We drive the eight minutes to Poppy’s school and park just outside the schoolyard gate. Kids are already pouring out of the building, backpacks bouncing, voices loud and excited. As I scan the crowd trying to find Poppy, something close to panic blooms in my chest.
“She’s always one of the last ones out,” Landyn says, perhaps sensing my unease. “The kid can talk, as you probably noticed the other day. Her teacher has the patience of a saint.”
My hands are jammed into my pockets. I’m trying to play it cool, but the nerves are back, worse than any boardroom pitch I’ve ever had to make.
Until I see her.
Poppy’s wild curls are in twin braids, and she’s scanning the crowd with wide, searching eyes.
Landyn’s smile is wide the second she sees her and then Poppy is a streak of motion, her backpack bouncing wildly as she barrels through the schoolyard.
“Mom!”
Her little feet barely touch the ground before she’s in Landyn’s arms, leaping up, clinging like a monkey, arms and legs wrapping around her mom with practiced ease.
Landyn catches her effortlessly, like she’s done it a thousand times, and her eyes close as she cradles Poppy to her chest. Her hands spread wide, one at her back, the other cupping the base of her daughter’s head like a lifeline.
“ Missed you,” she says, low and fierce. “Missed you so much.”
I stand there, completely still, afraid that if I move, I’ll shatter the moment. It’s raw and intimate and—hell—beautiful. Poppy pulls back just enough to look at her mom, then turns her head and spots me. “Ford!” she beams, wiggling in Landyn’s arms. “Put me down, Mom! I need to say hi to Ford!”
Landyn laughs before setting her down gently on the pavement. Poppy doesn’t waste a second. She jumps in front of me, and I drop to one knee to meet her. I don’t know what I expected, but when her little arms wrap around my neck, it brings me to my knees in every sense.
“Ford,” Poppy says after she’s let go of me. “Are you coming to the studio with us?”
I blink. “The studio?”
“That’s where I dance,” Poppy explains.
I look at Landyn, not sure what to say. “Yeah, you should come,” she says, smiling. “She has ballet today. One of her favorite classes.”
I look between the two of them. Poppy’s beaming, her hands still clutching my forearm like she’s afraid I might say no. I’m completely unprepared for how desperately I want to say yes.
“Yeah,” I hear myself say. “I’d love to.”
Poppy cheers. “Can we get there early, Mom? I think Mia is going to be there early today.”
“Sure,” Landyn agrees. “Ford’s going to drive us in his truck,” she says, nodding towards my F-150. I open the back door and Poppy scrambles inside.
“I like your truck, Ford,” she tells me as I buckle her in, checking the booster seat yet again to make sure it’s secure.
“I’m glad to hear it,” I tell her. “Do you want to drive? ”
She shakes her head, giggling. “I’m only six!”
“Oh, that’s right,” I tease her. “I guess I’ll drive then.”
I shut the door, turning to face Landyn.
“She really wants me to come?” I ask quietly as we fall into step together.
She smiles, and there’s something soft underlying it—something careful. “You made an impression, Ford.”
I round the front of the truck and slide into the driver’s seat, surprised by the lump that’s formed in my throat.
The whole drive to the studio, Poppy talks non-stop from the back seat about her teacher, the sparkly bodysuit she gets to wear at her recital, the way she can do an arabesque now, “but not the hard kind, just the beginner one.” She says she can’t wait to show us.
Us.
When we get to the dance studio, Landyn takes Poppy to the bathroom to get her changed while I hover near the chairs by the front desk, trying not to feel out of place.
“This way,” Landyn calls to me as they step out of the washroom, Poppy in her pink leotard and tights, her pale pink ballet shoes dangling from her hand.
Poppy takes off, and we follow her down the hall to the viewing window where Landyn and I stand quietly side by side.
Soft music filters into the hallway, classical and light, and all the girls in the class start to move.
It’s chaos, really, with kids flailing a beat too late or skipping steps entirely. But one little dancer stands out.
Poppy.
She moves with purpose, her arms lift to exactly where they should be, her toes pointed, her posture poised. She’s perfectly on rhythm, a tiny storm of grace and focus amid the spinning mess of pink tulle.
“Landyn,” I murmur, leaning in. “Is she a prodigy? ”
Landyn stifles a laugh and elbows me lightly. “Keep your voice down, dance dad.”
“I’m serious,” I whisper. “Look at her. She’s…she’s doing everything exactly right. She’s leaps and bounds better than any of the other kids. She dances circles around them.”
My eyes are glued to her, so full of concentration and quiet confidence. She moves through the routine like it’s second nature to her, like this is where she’s meant to be.
Landyn smiles. “She’s always been like that. Determined. She works her little butt off. I think she gets that from you,” she adds quietly, not looking at me.
“Landyn,” I say, my voice low as I tear my gaze away from the window and look at her. “My brothers want to meet her eventually.”
She nods, turning her head to meet my gaze. “I figured they would.”
“I haven’t told them much. Just that she’s ours.” I pause. “They’ll love her.”
“I’m sure she’ll love them too.” She swallows. There’s a beat of silence. “Do they hate me?”
Her voice is barely above a whisper, and it hits something tender inside me. I shake my head slowly. “No. They’re…protective. But they don’t hate you, Landyn.”
She lets out a breath, but I can see the worry still flickering in her eyes. “I wouldn’t blame them if they did.”
“They watched me fall apart when you left,” I start. “So, they’re looking out for me. But they’ll come around…for Poppy’s sake.”
The tension crackles between us like a wire pulled too tight. I should say something to ease it, but I don’t. I’m not ready yet. There’s a part of me that is still so mad.
Eventually, Landyn’s shoulder brushes mine. “You know what she said to me yesterday? ”
I turn to her. “What?”
“She said, ‘I think Ford is one of my favorite people. Like you and Grandma and Grandpa.” She gives me a small smile. “Then she asked if that was okay.”
My throat tightens. “She said that?”
Landyn nods. “She likes you. A lot.”
I look back through the glass, where Poppy is twirling near the front of the room.
“Yeah,” I murmur. “The feeling’s mutual.”
“Can Ford come over for dinner?” Poppy asks from the back seat as we pull out of the dance studio parking lot. “Please, Mom? We can have grilled cheese again, and he can see my fort! I made it even better this morning.”
Landyn turns in her seat to look at her. “We’re going to visit Grandma, remember? She’s still at the hospital.”
Poppy lets out a groan and flops her head against the car seat. “But I went to the hospital yesterday.”
“And we’re going again today,” Landyn says gently. “Grandma loves to see you.”
“But I miss Ford,” she says, dramatically putting a hand on her heart like she’s starring in her own little play.
Landyn presses her lips together to hide a smile. “I can stay with her, if that helps,” I offer, voice low so only Landyn can hear me. “You can spend some time with your mom.”
Landyn looks over at me with surprise in her eyes. “You would be okay with that?”
“I wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t.”
She nods a little, like she’s thinking it over. “Hey, P,” she says, turning to look back at Poppy. “Would you like to hang out with Ford for a little while tonight while I go visit Grandma?”
Poppy sits up straighter, eyes going huge. “YES! Yes, yes, yes! Can we have grilled cheese, Ford? And maybe… you can teach me how to whistle better?”
Landyn and I stare at each other with grins on our faces.
“I think that sounds like a pretty perfect evening,” I say, glancing at Landyn. “I happen to be very good at whistling.”
Poppy claps in her seat, practically vibrating with excitement. Landyn looks at me and something unspoken passes between us. Relief, maybe, or gratitude.
And for a moment, everything else—every trace of anger and guilt, every complicated thought and unanswered question—melts away.