I call Poppy.
She answers on the first ring. “Hey, what’s up?”
“Poppy, I need you,” I say, voice breaking. “I’m at the hospital.”
There’s a pause. “What happened? Are you okay?”
“I’m okay. I need you,” I say. “Can you come?”
“Is it Owen? Are either of you hurt?” she asks, frantic, and I can hear movement on the other line.
“No one’s hurt,” I say softly. “Just please come right now. I’ll explain everything when you get here.”
“Okay,” she says immediately. “I’m on my way.”
I look down at the baby again, my sister, and swallow hard.
Everything just changed between us.
And somehow, even terrified, I know exactly who I want beside me when I figure it out. I need my wife and my best friend.
I’m sitting in the chair by the window, the baby tucked against my chest, when my mom finally breaks the silence.
“So,” she says. “You’re not even going to consider what I have to say?”
My heart is still trying to catch up to the news that just shocked me and I don’t understand why she’s still here ruining my moment with this baby.
“I don’t know why you’re still here,” I say honestly.
She pulls a chair closer. Too close. “Why can’t you let me voice my opinions?”
I look down at the baby and then back at her. “Because you’ve never helped me. You’ve never been the mother I needed you to be. And I’d like for you to leave.”
The words hit harder than I expected. My chest tightens, and my thoughts start racing, overlapping, piling up too fast. CPS. Poppy. Owen. The shop. Money. The way my life just split open without warning. And Mom’s here adding to the chaos. I don’t need her. I need Poppy. I’ve always needed Poppy.
I want my mother away from me. I want to be left alone.
She studies my face, then huffs out a breath. “Fine,” she says. “I’m leaving.”
The door closes behind her, and the room finally goes quiet, andI look down at the baby in my arms.
She’s beautiful in a way that makes my chest ache. I lift the tiny knit hat and find soft, dark hair underneath, already curling a little, already familiar. Her nose is small and perfect, her mouth a delicate bow.
I ease the blanket back just enough to check on her, careful not to break her. Tiny toes flex, pink and wrinkled, her legs tucked in close. A little diaper on her, looking comically large. I wonder how much she weighs. It can’t be much. Her arms are small and strong, fists opening and closing like she’s testing the world.
She looks healthy and solid. But so tiny.
I check her fingers next, slow and careful. She wraps one around mine like she’s got a grip on me already. Like she’s saying, please don’t drop me.
“Hey,” I whisper. “I’m kinda freaking out, just so you know. Our other sister is a lot bigger and scarier than you. But you’ll love her, too. She’s pretty great.”
She makes a soft sound, something between a sigh and a hum, and my chest aches so hard it almost hurts.
I have no idea what I’m doing. I can’t see what the future could even look like now, but I know one thing. I can’t leave this baby here all alone like Madison did. That’s the kind of stuff my parents did. And I will never be like them.But I look at her again, and one thing settles, deep and steady.Whatever happens next, I’m not walking away.
I press a careful kiss to the top of her head and hold her a little closer, waiting for Poppy, waiting for my world to catch up to this moment.
Chapter 23
