I set the boxes down carefully like if I’m gentle enough, none of this will be real. I hate that they are losing this house and that this is the nightmare they’re living right now. I wish I could make it all better. I wish she’d just move in with me.
She joins me in the living room, helping me with the boxes.
Owen jumps up and says, “Wait till you see how good my free throws have gotten. I’ve been practicing extra at school. We’ve had a long-term substitute and she says we can do whatever we want so I just practice extra.”
“You’re killing it, bud. I can’t wait to see,” I say as I glance around at the piles of things and trash bags.
“Thank you,” she says quietly, her eyes cutting to the boxes. Which is the elephant in the room that no one wants to acknowledge or make real.
I nod.
“Walker said we can store stuff in their pole barn until we figure out the next step.”
My mouth tightens. “That helps. We can make trips out.”
I glance at Owen who is now setting up his game for us to play and I whisper, “How’s he doing with all this?”
She shrugs, but it’s tired. “He’s not saying much. Which means it’s probably bothering him a lot. Maybe you could get him to talk about it.”
I nod. I can definitely talk to him.
Owen drops onto the couch and pulls a blanket over him. I hate how he’s losing the only home he’s ever known.
“I mean it,” I say to Poppy. “Come to the shop. Take the apartment. We can make it work.”
Her eyes flick up to mine. She looks like she’s about to argue, then she doesn’t. I hope she’s really considering it.
“Maybe,” she says. “Even if it’s just until we can find something. There’s not a lot of rentals right now and I need to save up.”
I nod, keeping my voice steady. “I think Owen would like it. It’d be solid. And if you’re pulling off two jobs, the high school and the shop, it makes sense to be close for Owen. He could just be right upstairs.”
She looks at Owen. “Let’s just see,” she says.
“Hey, before we get started, let’s go grab a few pizzas,” I tell Owen and he wastes no time scrambling to get his coat on. “We’ll be right back. Any requests?”
She blows out a breath as she opens up one of the boxes and begins to fill it with old photo albums from the entertainment center. “Anything is good. Thanks.”
“I got you, Poppy,” I tell her as we head out.
Because I will always have them. Even if she isn’t ready. I’ll be waiting.
A few days later, everything goes sideways. We’ve been gone all morning, dropping donations at the thrift store, then hauling a load out to Walker’s pole barn. I’m pulling back into the shop with Poppy next to me in the passenger seat and Owen in the back with his headphones on.
“Ollie,” she whispers and grabs my arm, and I know immediately something’s wrong.
“What are they doing here?” I ask, anger and fear rising in me as I park.
Bikes and trucks I don’t recognize are lined up out in front of her shop like a bad memory came back to life. The way the shop used to operate, overrun by drunk druggie bikers who all but practically ran the shop into the groundwhile Poppy fought to make money and take care of Owen.
My stomach drops.
Poppy gets out, and Owen follows. Her shoulders are squared, and both of them look tense.
“Hey, stay in the truck,” I say, and neither of them listen and head inside. Because for them this is their dad. They grew up with this. My dad was a piece of work, but at least he preferred his crimes to be of the white-collar variety and didn’t bring menacing bikers home with him.
I don’t hear everything at first, but I hear Sully bite out, “Came for my money.”
His tone is very much not kind. He’s in a mood. I’ve seen him get like this, and it’s never good for the person who is on the receiving end. I don’t like this at all. Not one bit.
