Poppy's Picnic (Poppy's Place Short) (2 page)

“That’s sweet.” The answer to his question remained elusive even after several days of letting the knowledge soak in. “I don’t know why I’m so upset. We didn’t plan this time, but that doesn’t mean a baby is unwelcome. If it were, they’d have all gotten snipped. I just…it brings back a lot of feelings from when I first got here, I guess. I was pregnant then, too, right from San Antonio.”

“Yeah, that’s right.” Paul retrieved their snack from the counter. “Might as well enjoy these. So, you’re seeing some real similarities, huh?”

She helped herself to a treat. “Yes, I am. Even though the circumstances are so much different, I can’t help but remember.”

“How about you remember the good stuff?” Thomas passed her the milk. “Like late nights in the kitchen. Remember those?”

She nodded. Insomnia and tummy aches had plagued her first pregnancy. Fortunately, she’d used the time to get to know the older Parabys. She treasured the memories they’d made around Mary’s kitchen table.

Paul took a second cookie. “The boys fall all over themselves when you’re pregnant. Remember when Trevor took you shopping? You had a lot of fun. Even though there were some struggles, there were a lot of good times way back when—only seven years ago. Crazy to think about, right?”

“I know you’re right….” But she had let herself think past those wonderful moments. Having her daddy issues flare right as she was flooded with pregnancy hormones obviously made her see a different picture.

“We are right,” Thomas said. “Believe me, I’m great at being right. So now the real question is, how are you going to tell the boys?”

Paul rubbed his hands together. “I think you should be creative. What did Mary do when she was pregnant with Trevor, Thomas?”

“She threw up on you—a lot.”

Paul snorted. “Not that. She put baby shoes in our shoes, remember? That was cute.”

“Yeah, and with Cody she made little food. That was totally with the times, though,” Thomas said. “But we kind of missed it. Baby corn and carrots were novelties, so when she made them with mini meatballs, we just thought she’d gotten a new cookbook.”

“Then she yelled at us.” Paul and Thomas laughed together.

Poppy could quietly fume and hold onto her father’s disapproval. Or she could embrace the excitement of the family who adopted her as one of their own. The answer was easy, she just wished she’d come to it sooner—like before she’d had her men plant peas in some frenzied attempt to distract them.

“You know they’re going to be thrilled,” Paul added. “Like, over the moon happy about this.”

“Then I’m going to kick myself for being this silly to begin with.”

“I think you’ve kicked yourself enough lately,” Thomas said. “Now, Mary has the girls. We’ll intercept them and keep them busy this afternoon. Why don’t you take the free time with the guys and share the news?”

Her mind raced to possible ways of telling Michael, Trevor, and Cody they’d be fathers again. The first time, a detective spilled the beans before she’d gotten a chance to tell her men. With Lola, they’d all been watching her cycles, ready to be parents again. They’d been outside the bathroom door when she peed on the stick. The memories brought back the elation she’d felt then. They might be surprised, but they would be happy. She was thrilled.

“There’s the smile.” Paul patted her shoulder. “Never forget—babies are blessings and you’re never alone here. Not with all of us happy as hell to have the next generation running around us.”

“He’s right.” Thomas stood. “There’s no one I’d rather have be their mother than you. Let us know what we can do. I love having the girls over in the afternoons if you’re needing a little extra rest. Don’t hesitate to let us help. We like it.”

Poppy hugged each of them. The only way the moment could be better was if Duane and Mary had also been there. She knew they’d have felt the same way. They loved her, and she couldn’t wait to bring another child into this family where acceptance was the rule. The men started out of the room, but Paul doubled back for the cookie plate.

“Um, you know, for the girls, later.”

She laughed. “You are a very thoughtful grandpa. How about we do a big grill out over here tonight? I’ll volunteer Trevor to cook.”

Paul saluted her with a cookie. “Sounds like a plan to me. We’ll be over with the girls later.”

Finally alone in her kitchen, Poppy searched for inspiration, thankful to be excited. The picnic basket on top of the fridge caught her eye. A picnic.
Perfect.

Chapter Two

The dirt on his hands felt better than Michael cared to admit. After months on end studying for his law exams—some coming at a breakneck speed—being outdoors in the early summer sun warmed him up and brought him back to center. He stretched, working the kink out of his back. If he did stuff like this more often, he’d probably feel better, too. Hour after hour spent reading and at the computer was making him weak. Perhaps the garden would serve a purpose, even if he didn’t want to eat any of the peas.

“I’m sick of this,” Cody griped. “I’d rather pitch cow shit than pinch weeds. I’m going to go tell Poppy I can’t do this.”

“Me, too,” Trevor said, but kept working.

“Well, aren’t you coming?”

“Hell no. I only say I’m going to do shit like that, but I’d never tell Poppy no. It’s just weeding a few plants. Get over it.”

He looked up to the sky, and Michael smirked. They were all in the same boat with that little catch. Their wife didn’t ask for a whole hell of a lot from them. She was entirely too self-sufficient. Painting the garage. Putting on trim with the nail gun that kicked like a donkey. Tons of heavy, dirty jobs he would rather do than risk her getting injured. To complain now smacked of weakness.

“Just get back to work, Baby Boy.” Michael pulled grass shoots again. “If it makes you feel better, you can go clean stalls after we’re done.”

At the hum of an approaching ATV, Michael straightened and faced the house, a half a mile from the plot. Probably one of their dads coming with water and to rib them. Paul, Thomas, and Duane wouldn’t tease Poppy over the peas, but they’d sure as hell make pussy-whipped noises away from where the ladies could hear. And they’d be right. In many ways, the sons were similar to their fathers—who had been doing their mother’s bidding for decades.

Michael smiled. Poppy drove with one hand on the steering bars and one arm clutching a picnic basket. He wiped his palms on his jeans before heading toward her, his brothers stepping into action beside him.

They reached the end of the field just as Poppy killed the engine. Michael took the large basket. She brushed a piece of hair from her eyes.

“Thanks.” She climbed off the four-wheeler and reached for the cooler strapped to the back, but Cody already had it.

Trevor grabbed a folded blanket from the front. “What’s all this?”

“This is a big thank you for all your hard work.” She strode to a patch of short grass. “Trev, can you set the blanket out here? Guys, bring that stuff over please, and I’ll get lunch ready.”

Michael’s stomach growled. “Perfect timing. Are the girls still at school?”

Poppy knelt and pulled out containers. “Your mom is picking them up, so I thought I’d come out here with a treat for you guys.”

Trevor sat behind Poppy and lifted her onto his lap. She twisted to wrap her arms around him.

“You are the real treat.” Trevor kissed up her neck. “You two go ahead and have what’s in the basket. I’ve got something better.”

Michael rolled his eyes, but took over unloading the basket. Trevor had been underfoot, beating around the house since they’d returned from San Antonio. He wanted to retire from the gaming industry, but that wouldn’t happen until he found something new to consume his interests. When Lola was a baby he’d sold most of his interest in his gaming business, keeping his toes in development.

Poppy swatted Trevor and sat back on the blanket. She fixed her hair before handing each of them a plate.

“It’s not fancy, but after your hard work, I thought you’d be hungry. Look how far you’ve already gotten. I can finish the rest tomorrow.”

“We don’t mind,” Cody said, a far cry from his earlier griping. “It’s not that bad. What’s in the packages?”

She tore the first lid open and presented sandwiches…tiny ones.

Michael frowned. It would take four or five to equal a full sandwich. “Do we stack them?”

“Um, sure.” She thrust the container into his arms. “Go nuts. You can stack the ham and turkey ones together and make a club.”

She set an opened tub of baby carrots on the blanket. A third revealed little grapes, and still another held tiny teddy bear crackers.

“Oh, I get it. You were making lunch for the girls, but Mom picked them up. I would have liked a picnic with them, too.” Michael took a handful of honey bears. “Maybe we can do that later this week.”

Poppy rubbed her palms together but didn’t meet his gaze. “Sure. I can make this again.”

Cody took a bite of his sandwich. Their wife seemed…tense. He chewed slowly, the tiny sandwich gone in two bites. Poppy wasn’t herself after returning from San Antonio. Her moods swung all over and things she’d never deemed important in the past suddenly had to be done right away.

The worst came at just after ten o’clock most nights, when she headed to her room. Alone. He’d hoped after their trip, the two of them would maintain the closeness they’d enjoyed. They’d connected, and he’d returned home with a renewed desire to always be with her. He loved her, had for a long time, but the spark he’d let ease into the affection and love of everyday sort of life had flamed to life, and he wanted to continue stoking it. She didn’t seem to feel the same. He tried to peg if it could be woman’s issues, but Poppy never had big problems with PMS. Maybe it was just the emotional strain from having to deal with her bonehead father that made her so closed.

“What have you been up to this morning, darlin’?” he asked.

Poppy paused mid-bite. “Not a whole lot. I labeled and decorated some blueberry jam jars for the next farmer’s market. Then I talked to Paul and Thomas. After that I made this, and here I am.”

She added a bright smile, but he doubted its authenticity.

“I’m glad you’re here.” Trevor leaned over and kissed her. “Not only was I hungry, I was missing you.”

He had a way of not picking up on subtle changes—ignorance seemed to be his bliss. He probably didn’t notice Poppy’s tension when he kissed her, but Cody did. His oldest brother frowned as well.

“I missed you, too.” She set her food down and snuggled into Trevor’s lap again.

Cody took a third sandwich, but kept her in his line of sight the entire time. She seemed happy to nibble on her food. Maybe they were reading too much into her behavior. He didn’t know; he just wanted to be back on even ground with her.

“So, I wanted to talk to you three,” Poppy said after most of the sandwiches were gone and they were down to grapes and teddy bear crackers.

Cody shifted closer, wishing Poppy sat on his lap instead. The middle brother held onto her tightly. His eyes twitched, and though he was always affectionate, he didn’t usually go so strong when they were all together. He kissed her neck.

“Um, I know I’ve been a little off since San Antonia and I’m just so thankful for you three. You’ve been so patient. I’ve just…with Rose and my father….”

It still killed him that her family failed in so many areas. Of all the kinds of drama he hated, the family kind was at the top of the list. It ruined everything without reasons he deemed important enough to matter in the first place.

“Anyway, it shook me more than I thought.” She fiddled with the hem of her shirt. “But there’s more—”

“Listen, I have to come clean here,” Trevor said.

She pulled away, eyebrow high in question. “Oh?”

He tightened his arms around her. “Yeah, I ah, after we got back, I got in touch with your sister Rose’s ex-husband. Dougie and I go way back. He’s wanted to buy into my company for years, but I always tell him to fuck squirrels. This time, I offered to sell him my shares if he finalized the divorce on your sister’s terms”

Poppy pulled free and stood up. Cody and Michael gaped. This was news to them, but then, Trevor rarely shared his business dealings. His business moved at a rapid pace, but this situation fell mighty close to home…even closer to Poppy. She glared at him, her fists clenched.

He eased to his feet, his shoulders rounded. “I should have told you sooner, but I wasn’t sure he’d go through with it.”

She shook her head, her cheeks bright red even as the rest of her face paled. “I can’t believe you.”

Cody wanted to defend his brother, especially if his interference had fixed the issues with Rose. He’d felt like they left unfinished business in San Antonio. If Trevor played a part in wrapping up an ugly divorce and made sure Rose was covered enough to not have to bother Poppy again for money or support—his brother had tied up the last loose strings.

She strode to the four-wheeler, taking off with a loud roar of the engine without looking back.

Trevor chased after her on foot. “Come on, babe. Hear me out.”

Cody twisted the cap on a fresh bottle of water. “That didn’t go well. Think we should referee?”

“Ah, hell no. He made that particular mess all on his own. He can clean it up.” Michael glanced over his shoulder at the field. “And he’s going to leave the rest for us, too. Ass.”

Cody had put the peas out of mind during lunch. “Maybe Trevor picked the right time to start a fight.”

Chapter Three

Trevor chased Poppy down, regretting telling her about her sister’s business—actually wishing he’d gone with his first instinct not to share at all.

“Come on,” he called as she maneuvered the four-wheeler over the lumpy terrain. “Let’s talk about this.”

She kept driving, but one rut, the deep one Paul always swore he was going to smooth out, caught her front tires and stopped her. While she rocked her body forward and back to gain momentum, Trevor caught up, jumping the narrow but deep rut and reaching around her. She smacked his hands away, but he killed the engine and pulled the key out.