Poppy's Passions (10 page)

Her father wanted, no expected her to cook and host dinner for her former fiance and the woman he left her for. Not to mention the baby. The text repeated the call and didn't request a reply. Infuriated, she knew he didn't doubt she would arrive in time to cook and scrape after his guests, no matter who they were.

After texting her father about her plans for Thanksgiving not including a return to Texas, she turned off her phone and searched out Trevor. Her father's reply was sure to be unpleasant and she wasn't ready to face it, especially not alone. She needed comfort, someone to talk to, and Trevor, the only one home, fit the bill perfectly.

At the top of the stairs, even with the door shut, she could still hear the sounds of games from the landing. He preferred not to be bothered when he worked. His working temper was a running family joke, but she felt so upset she was ready to face a few growls if it meant he would listen.

She knew her father would disown her for defying him, and she needed to feel like she still belonged. She was so close to believing she'd found the family she'd always longed for.

"Trevor?” He didn't acknowledge her until she was right beside where he was stretched on the couch, laptop in front of him, keying furiously.

"Fucking robots,” he swore, tapping harder. “What Poppy?"

"Um, do you have a minute?” she asked, talking to the side of his head.

"Do you have food?"

"No."

"Wanna fuck?"

"What? Um, I guess if you want.” The churning in her stomach increased with every reply.

"No, you don't, you smell like you puked,” he said absently, and continued to play his game.

Humiliated, she stepped away and picked through the filth as fast as she could. Two weeks. The beginning of the end already started. First, Trevor obviously didn't want her. Next, Michael would start seeing her flaws and unlovable traits she couldn't cover forever. Cody would probably be last. He'd tough it out, pretend he didn't mind her quirks and failings, but eventually they would ask her to leave and she'd be worse off than when she started.

Worse because the sweet taste of family and love would stay with her long after she was alone. Another failure in a line of many she was forced to claim. Sick to death of setting herself up for heartbreak, she swore at her stupidity. She knew better, damn it.

She deserved more from the people in her life than rudeness and orders. The woman she fought to become didn't have to settle for scraps and false promises. She was better than that. Refusing to let herself be lulled into another bad relationship, one that could leave her destroyed, she decided to leave while she could. Staying where she wasn't wanted was the old Poppy's way of life, not hers.

She strode away on a mission. It was better to move on now while she had time to make a new life before the babies arrived. Taking the stairs quickly, she grabbed her purse off the banister post. At the landing she cried out. There was no stopping the cramp when it hit, and she doubled over in pain against it. Tears burned her eyes.

She should have known. Bad things always happened in threes. Her father would disown her, Trevor didn't want her, and now she was going to lose her babies. Two magical weeks, beautiful weeks of reprieve, but they were over. She managed to get into her coat and to the garage. Trevor's truck was an automatic with the keys in the ignition, so she took it for the time being. He could have it back, but she had to escape.

The weather stayed dry lately so the driveway and road were clear, the sun brightly reflecting off the tidy snow banks. She'd practiced the drive in Michael's truck before and despite having to be careful on the turns, it wasn't a bad trip to town. Half a mile down the driveway, before the hairpins started, another cramp hit.

Icy gravel grabbed the SUV's tires and veered it into the ditch when she lost control. Her slow pace made a dent in the heavily packed snow bank as well as the car. The impact made her body jerk hard, and she cried out in pain. Too many things were happening. Panting helped stop the irrational screaming, but the cramps and tears were making it hard to think. Still stunned from the impact, she heard another truck approach not long after the airbag started to deflate.

"Trevor, you dumbass. How did you manage to wreck on a day like— Poppy?” She was too numb to respond as Cody gently began detangling her from the airbag and seatbelt. “Baby, are you all right?"

"Gotta’ leave.” The powder on her face stunk and made her skin itch. “Cramps just started. Hurts."

"Dad, call Duane.” His quick pace increased at her words, jarring her though she knew he was trying to be careful. “Why were you alone? Trevor should still be home. Why wasn't he driving? He should have driven."

"Wasn't offering food or a fuck,” she said, head spinning. The shock helped filter her thoughts enough to answer his questions. “I was going home when the cramps started."

"Home? Poppy, your home is with us. Trevor's an ass, and I'll beat him up after Dad looks you over. I promise,” Cody swore, making dust fly around them when he patted her hair. “I love you, so much. Promise me you'll stay, you'll give us more time to convince you this is where you belong."

"Are the cramps regular or erratic?” Paul asked, his question calmly refocusing the conversation.

"Erratic,” she gratefully answered, instead of answering Cody.

"Okay, Duane will meet us in the ER,” Paul said. “Like old times, right, Poppy? You're used to hanging out in the ER. Good news though, we haven't had a shooting in ours. Duane even checked."

The pains stayed erratic for the car ride, much like Paul's conversation, she thought, between being terrified. He was trying to keep Cody from saying anything else or pushing her, she knew, and she appreciated his efforts. The ride was giving her time to think and reprioritize.

Her weakness at the house angered her, as it was the response of the old Poppy. She'd been giving up. With the men, she could have been okay with that eventually, but her babies were a different story. No matter what happened with their fathers she didn't want her babies to be gone. The selfish, self-indulgent crap had to stop. There were others to think about. Two little girls relied solely on her.

Cody's arms tightened around her, and she wondered what he was feeling. He continued petting her hair, and his other hand rested on her stomach. She couldn't make herself look at him, not when everything was bubbling inside her. The cramps, Trevor's words, and her own insecurities made his expression too important, and she was a coward. She refused to take the chance his face held quiet acceptance or relief.

The contractions eased back some by the time Paul pulled into the ER entrance, where she saw Duane already waiting with a wheelchair, his huge gray parka as identifying as a neon sign. She let the dads help her into the chair but wouldn't meet Cody's eyes. He tried to get face to face but Duane shooed him away and quickly wheeled her into the hospital.

"I'll call Michael and Trevor,” she heard him call, but she was relieved when Duane ordered him to go to the waiting room instead of following to the exam room.

Hooked up to IVs and machines an hour later, she was miserable, but feeling somewhat better in the comfortable hospital bed. Cervix activity was being monitored but showed no dilation, and the babies weren't showing any signs of distress. The IV in her arm itched and burned even after the nurse put an ice pack over it, but she couldn't work up the desire to complain. She knew there was nothing else the nurse could do.

Duane continued to bar the brothers from her room. More and more she could hear them protest from the waiting area. Loudly. She knew the decision for visitors was usually the doctor and patient's call, and most doctors would have okayed the father's presence, but Duane hadn't asked. Instead he told her he wanted her to relax, something that wouldn't happen if the three “yahoos” as he called his sons came barging in.

The hospital was nice but she grew tired of spending time in the beds, no matter how nifty their remote controls. Between the days in San Antonio and now Morris, she had more time racked up hospital beds than her new one in her townhouse. Duane's hospital was up-to-date with all the latest equipment, thanks to private donations, but she didn't want to be a long-term guest. She would stay to keep her babies safe, but she wanted to go home, wherever that was.

"Those boys would be a handful to any woman, but add in some illness, fatigue, and Lord, hormones, and it's more than anyone could expect to handle,” the nurse said as she looped a new bag on her IV stand. The older woman with
Susie
stitched on her scrub top had the love of nursing Poppy wished she possessed. It was one thing to be good at a job, but in Susie's every move, Poppy saw a woman who loved her work, and it was a comfort. “The Parabys are a wonderful family. Very loyal to the people they love."

Poppy nodded but wasn't sure about the love part. Even after Cody's harried confession on the way down the mountain, she couldn't forget Trevor's passive face not long before. The nurse was right about their qualities, just overestimated her place within their affection.

"Know how I know those young men love you?” The nurse turned her pillow to the dry, blessedly, cool side. “Each one of them hates this place and can't stand blood, needles, or illness. Duane was heartbroken when he realized none of them would follow in his footsteps. During Mary's mastectomy and chemo treatments they stayed a few minutes at a time, and we all know how much those boys adore their mama. They are near blows with Duane to see you. Paul and Thomas better get here quick or there'll be blood."

"They wouldn't—"

"Back the fuck off, Duane. I have to tell her I'm sorry!” Poppy nearly jumped out of the bed at Trevor's shout. “I was a dick, and she got sick because of me. If something happens to her before I can tell her how sorry I am, I'm getting in my truck to drive off a fucking cliff."

Poppy tried not to hyperventilate at his announcement. The idea of Trevor, any of them, doing something so drastic made her heart clench in desperation.

"Calm down,” the nurse commanded. “Let Duane handle this. Look at you, your heart rate skyrocketed and all my good nursing's going to be for naught if you throw up. Pant it out, honey."

A basin and towel were pushed on her lap while the nurse looked at a chart too thick to be the one they'd started at her appointment the week before.

"Well, bite my foot,” the nurse said. “Ulcers. Young lady, what was causing you ulcers at seventeen years old? Well, that explains it. I'll talk to the doctor for confirmation, but ulcers and gas can make for real convincing pseudo-contractions."

"What?” She blinked away the horrible images trapped in her head of the SUV going off the other side of the mountain, and groaned when the nurse's words sank in. “Of course. Fucking ulcers.” She started at the uncharacteristic curse, shooting the nurse an apologetic look.

"It's bound to happen eventually if you spend time with Trevor.” The nurse laughed as she checked vitals again. “That boy can curse a room blue in under a minute. It's amazing how knowing what the problem is can help make a person feel better, isn't it?"

Poppy nodded, though she felt ready to throw up or cry, maybe both, at any moment. “Could you let Trevor in for a minute?"

"Will it make you settle more?” Her smile was full of motherly comfort.

"Well, I can't think of him driving off a cliff,” she replied, rubbing the goose bumps from her arms at the thought.

"Okay. I'll get him on my way out. Buzz, if you need me before I get back. Ask for Susie,” she said, after one final check. “The other girls...well, just ask for Susie."

She managed a laugh and knew she was under the best of care. Susie was a good nurse, and Poppy felt safe knowing she was looking after her and the babies. The ulcer made sense. She'd been craving milk products since her pregnancy. The same cravings had led to flair ups during college.

She'd been under immense family pressure in those years. Her grades were scrutinized and always found lacking. Every other Sunday before family brunch she would collapse into a crying, screaming panic attack until she'd finally seen a therapist. Therapy helped for a while, but when her father found out he was livid and refused to pay the medical co-pay. He suggested she talk with the religious studies professor at his college if she needed advice and counseling. She'd never gone.

Between the ulcers and panic attacks, she somehow managed to get through college without spending days at the hospital, and within weeks of finishing school and getting her own place, she'd been fine. The issues with Steven started after, which is probably why she hadn't thought of the ulcers until the nurse mentioned it.

She'd had her stomach issues under control until she started chugging milk, eating cheese, sneaking ice cream, and all but soaking in stress and indecision. She closed her eyes and tried to relax. Susie had no reason to lie about her thoughts on the Paraby family, or their feelings for her. The cramps eased. She knew the added fluid was moving the lactase from her system, and in a few hours she'd be back to normal. Some of the desperate hopelessness she'd been bombarded with was easing, and she felt like she could breathe without shards of pain jabbing her heart.

The sound of footsteps followed the closing door. She opened her eyes briefly but closed them against the room's brightness before she saw who entered. The footsteps stopped abruptly and a muted curse filled the room, assuring her it was Trevor. Knowing it was him and not an aide or the nurse made her face the discomfort and open her eyes.

He looked like he'd aged ten years in the hours since she'd seen him. She couldn't mistake the regret and shame in his expression and found she didn't like seeing him so full of self-loathing, so she mustered up a smile. She'd been afraid of Cody's face in the truck on the way to the ER. Really, she'd been afraid she would see the same thing Trevor showed earlier—a complete lack of caring, which terrified her because she cared so much about all of them.

He hurt her feelings, and she couldn't forget that, but she could see remorse in the lines of his face. Turning away from him for making a mistake wasn't fair. He wasn't her father, none of them were, and they were offering her a home. It wasn't perfect, but no family was. They made mistakes, but she refused to be like her sisters and father. In her new family there would be forgiveness when it was asked for. Hormones made her a little crazy, but he deserved better than what she'd been shown in the past. They both did.