23. Poppy
23
POPPY
My entire world goes to shit because I don’t know how not to eavesdrop. Honestly, I blame my mother for it. At least, that’s the lie I tell myself when I have no one else to blame but myself.
After all, she brought me into the world without asking my opinion on the whole thing. That means that she is responsible for all my bad habits.
“Hey, Poppy.” I look over at Parker, who is staring at the baby in my arms with a smile on her face. “Do you think I could have my baby back?”
“No.” I mock glare at her. “You haven’t even named them yet.”
“Yes.” Parker sighs. “I’ve named them. You’re holding Brody. Chloe’s snuggling with Blake.”
I look down at the upturned nose currently pressing into my neck and smile at the perfect little boy.
“I don’t care. You can’t have him. I want snuggles. I’ve still got like three weeks until I get to meet my little guy.”
When she reaches for him, I waddle away with a triumphant look on my face. At least until he starts rooting around on my neck, trying to get milk, which I don’t have yet.
“Okay, fine,” I huff when I turn back to Parker. “You can feed him if you want to. But I still want some baby snuggles before I have to go home.”
After my last OB appointment, where Kyle essentially told me I could pop at any moment, Logan asked me to stay home unless he was with me. His head bobs outside the kitchen window, and I can’t even pretend that I didn’t give in as soon as he asked me to.
I am a complete and undeniable sucker for that man. There is no use trying to deny it, either. Not when every single person both inside Parker’s house and outside is in the same position with their partner.
“Remy’s parents really didn’t mind keeping Cassie for the night?” I look over at Parker, who looks like she’s about to fall asleep and hasn’t slept in a month. “That’s really nice of them.”
“They love her. And Cassie actually sleeps through the night at their house, which she doesn’t do here unless Nox is in her room. No eight-year-old boy wants to sleep in the same room as his three-year-old sister. So it means that none of us really get a full night’s sleep.”
“That sucks.” Chloe blows out a deep breath, smiling when the baby in her arms gurgles loudly.
“I’m not saying if they don’t finish that barbecue soon that I’m going to eat someone’s child,” Emma growls. “But if they don’t finish that food soon, I’m going to sneak into Dom’s truck and raid his hidden chocolate supply that he thinks I don’t know about and that I’m not allowed to have because I have gestational diabetes.”
Chloe burps loudly, pressing down on the top of her stomach with one hand while she stretches her back, still holding on to the baby like she’s done it a thousand times before. “I think you’re probably just talking a lot so that you don’t actually get tempted to go and get the food that you’re so sure he’s hiding from you.”
“He is.” Emma throws a pillow from the couch across the room, but she intentionally misses and it lands at Chloe’s feet. “I can smell the chocolate in his truck. And he keeps trying to hide it in different spots. Last week, I found it taped under the driver’s seat.”
“Taped, like with duct tape?” I can’t help the question. “I’d have thought he’d be smarter than that. I reach under the driver’s seat almost every day to grab something that I dropped.”
“That’s exactly what happened.” Emma laughs. “I was trying to plug my phone in so I could use the speakers to blast my labor music and make sure it sounds good. I dropped my phone and couldn’t just bend over, so I had to get out and lean down. He had a freakin’ handle made out of tape so that he could just sort of sit there and yank it out if he wanted to. It was the most… insulting thing in the entire world.” She huffs loudly. “Like I’m not strong enough to keep myself from eating a bunch of stuff that I can’t have because it might put our baby in danger.”
Parker detaches the baby currently nursing and expertly flips him over and slaps his back in one smooth motion.
The biggest burp I’ve ever heard in my entire life leaves his body, and we all sit there in shock for a second .
“That’s a strong ten out of ten, if I’ve ever heard a burp in my entire life,” I finally mumble. “I don’t even think I could come up with one that great.”
When Parker offers me Brody again, I take him without questioning it. Chloe immediately hands over Blake, and Parker sticks him on her other boob like she’s been doing it forever.
“Seriously, Parker. Do your boobs ever get a rest at all?” I eye them suspiciously.
Her nipples have to be hurting. Hell, I haven’t tried it yet, and even putting on a bra in the morning has me almost writhing in pain.
“They’ve got a bunch of numbing stuff you can get now,” Parker says with a laugh. “When Nox was born, I didn’t have any of that. They toughen up, if you choose to boob feed.”
“I feel like there’s a lot of pressure to do it,” Chloe admits. “I didn’t really want to do it, and then my mom and Ian’s mom and everyone are kind of pushing me to it.”
“Fu— Forget that,” I amend, thinking better of dropping an F-bomb in front of a newborn. “I don’t care what they say about all that crap. Fed is best. It doesn’t matter if it’s from a boob, a bottle, or a mix of both. As long as your baby is fed and healthy, that’s all that matters.”
“Right,” Parker agrees, but her fierce nod is undercut by the wince and gasp she lets out as her baby makes a Hoover vacuum impression.
“So.” Emma turns her head toward the back porch, where we can see the men standing around the barbecue. “Who’s gonna go out there and demand that they get a move on with the food? I really am hungry. And I can’t just hop on a boob.”
“I think I’ve got some snacks in the pantry,” Parker offers helpfully. “Nox doesn’t like sugar in his cookies, so I bought some Keto ones that he really likes. Do you think that’ll work?”
Emma nods reluctantly. “Yeah, I guess.” She heaves herself up. “Where in the pantry?”
“I got it,” I offer to Parker, who moves to get up and hand Blake off to Chloe, who takes him willingly for a second while everyone moves. Then he’s back in his mother’s arms. It’s seriously like a little game of baby hot potato. “I remember from the night the boys were born. Nox showed me where all the good stuff was kept.”
After getting Emma the cookies she needs to stay sane until dinner is done, I sit down at the bar with her .
“Thanks,” she mutters. “I know they just started cooking, but I get really hangry, and it’s all the baby’s fault.”
“Trust me.” I stare at her. “I understand. Did you know that Taco Bell apparently makes a Mexican pizza that’s like a taco but laid out like a pizza? Yeah, I’ve made Logan get three a day for me for the past week. It’s bad. I can’t wait to be done with the pregnancy so my weird cravings go away.”
Emma laughs, her mouth full of cookie. “I can’t believe all it took to get you on Team Tacos was pregnancy. We’re gonna have to get Logan to knock you up again so that we win. I’ve been having the opposite effect. You know I love Dom’s mom’s tacos. Alta makes the absolute best food I’ve ever had in my entire life. But all I want to eat are pickles and chicken. Together. It’s so stupid.”
“Blame it on the penis,” I tell her sagely. “I mean, that seems like the only thing we can really do at this point.”
“So much penis,” Emma agrees. “I don’t know what I’d do without it, either.”
“We’d be horny and angry a lot. Seems like the logical explanation of what will happen.”
She stares longingly out the sliding glass door, but she isn’t looking at her husband. Instead, she has her eyes locked on the closed lid of the barbecue. “Do you think anything is ready yet?”
I hear her stomach growl and realize that the cookies really haven’t done anything.
“You want me to go ask?” I offer.
Emma blinks, not moving her eyes away from the door. “I don’t know.”
“Hey, Poppy,” Parker says from the living room.
Leaving Emma to her staring contest with the door, I follow the sound of a baby sucking away and the quiet conversation of the women that I’ve grown impossibly closer to over the last few months.
“What’s up, Boob Machine?” I lean against the edge of the couch, running my finger down Blake’s nose while he continues to eat with his eyes closed.
“Will you please go tell Remy that I’m starving and that his babies make me want grilled chicken with barbecue sauce smothered over the top?” She bats her eyelashes at me, and I laugh.
“You’re so weird.”
But I move toward the front door all the same.
“Why are you going out that way?” Chloe looks up from her phone.
“’Cause I want to scare the piss out of Ian if I can,” I answer honestly. “I still owe him for digging into my romantic life when he should have been focused on his own.”
Chloe laughs, rubbing her stomach lovingly. “Yeah,” she says sweetly. “But look where it got us.”
“Pregnant, hangry, and ready to murder the men in our lives?” Emma muses from the doorway, shoving another cookie in her mouth.
“If it helps, I’ll distract them by doing something in the kitchen. I feel like a little bit of revenge is necessary if they’re gonna take forever on the food.”
I really don’t want to mess with Emma when it comes to getting in the way of her and food. If Logan thinks I’m crazy with the pregnancy hormones, he doesn’t have a clue.
“Okay,” I tell Emma. “Give me like thirty seconds to get down the stairs and around to the side of the house. Then you distract them, and I’ll get Ian.”
“What are you gonna do?” Chloe asks. “I hope nothing that’ll keep him from… you know. Later tonight.”
“Parker’s got the kid’s sprinkler hose thing on the side of the house. I figure I’ll sneak up on him and soak him.” I look outside. “It’s warm enough out there. He’ll dry off before you go home. ”
Parker titters. “Someone should record that. We could put it online.”
Emma nods. “I got it. They’ll just think I’m being weird.” She pulls her phone out from between her boobs, and for a second I can’t figure out how I ended up with such a crazy group of friends.
“Okay, I’m going.” I slowly make my way out the front door and down the steps, trying to count the seconds in my head as I go.
Thirty seconds was definitely an underestimate on how long it takes, though, because it is at least a minute until I have the hose in my hand.
And another minute until I get to the corner of the house.
But Emma probably shouldn’t have bothered trying to distract them. They don’t even have the grill turned on yet. In fact, all five of them are standing around the barbecue talking so intently that none of them notice I’m there.
“I’ve never told anyone,” Logan is saying. “Because I knew if Poppy found out the truth, I’d lose her forever. I told Ian in therapy, and even Poppy, without going into detail, that it was my fault. But it really was. I beat the fuck out of Ortega, recorded his confession after I beat him, and then I turned it in to the police. He came looking for us that night. He came looking for her that night. To hurt me.”
I drop the hose, but it lands on the handle and sprays a jet of ice-cold water straight up. Into my face.
Gasping for air and swatting away the sprinkler, I find myself staring into Logan’s eyes.
“You heard.”
I don’t answer.
I can’t answer.
He lied to me.
A-freaking-gain.
I am so angry that I want to hit him upside the head. Plus, I’m hungry, and now I have to wait even longer for something to eat.
Well, at least that’s one of my problems I can solve on my own.
“I need to go,” I say quietly while they all stare at me with varying levels of concern.
I walk away before he can ask me to stay. To let him explain. I know if he gets even one word out, I won’t be going anywhere. So I move as fast as my stomach will let me, and he doesn’t follow.
I climb into the driver’s seat of his truck and pull the keys out of the cupholder .
It really is all his fault that I steal his truck.
He’s the one who lets me drive away, and he doesn’t come looking for me. Not when I go to Taco Bell and order half the menu. Not when I go home and eat every bit of it while sitting in the nursery.
He doesn’t come looking for me when I write him a letter.
Or when I pack some clothes for the weekend.
Logan doesn’t call me when I drive my car to my brother’s house.
And he doesn’t bother trying to talk to me.
At all.