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“Who does?” My mom says, and they all laugh. Everyone smiles, and she looks over at me.

They all mean well, but it’s not helping.

Goldie says, “Has anyone thought about the Parma ham that the deli had? It’s terrible. I need a good Parma ham and I am at odds with it.”

My mom points to me, “You know she’s a chef, right?”

I speak without thinking, “Sal has a great guy in the city. Best Parma. He can call for---” Everyone’s expressions freeze. “Oh. Wow. Um. I’m sure I have his number somewhere. I’ll look for you, Auntie G.”

Goldie instantly cries, and now I know I’ll have to spend the next hour helping them through their grief.

Chapter

Nine

Poppy

Day 22 (PS)

Tonight, sleep didn’t come. The dreams didn’t let me escape. I didn’t get to see him. I sit up resolved in not sleeping and pick the remains of a dozen doughnuts off the coffee table and watch “While You Were Sleeping.” Again.

Chapter

Ten

Poppy

Day 23 (PS)

The dads are fucking hysterical this morning as they mock my Uncle Arthur’s attempt at a healthy breakfast. His plate is full of avocado toast but also a side of hollandaise, two poached eggs, bacon, buttered French toast, and a side of coleslaw.

“And here is the healthy breakfast that the doctor ordered for our dear friend. No one takes the picture for his wife, I think,” Costas’ voice is booming as he yells.

“It’s got all the food groups,” Uncle Arthur grumbles, “There’s avocado.”

Uncle Jim picks up his plate and observes, “All the food groups indeed. You’ve got yourself some grease, butter, mayo…” They all laugh and I find I can too. I’m pretty close to Big Jim Langerford, and if I’ve ever needed a father for things, I always had the Uncles to step in. Uncle Jim took me to the father daughter dances so Arthur could take Becca.

Uncle Will adds, “And don’t forget fat.”

Uncle Arthur rubs his round belly. “Hard to forget!”

They all roar and I giggle, too. It feels nice. But it’s like I’m underwater, everything happening around me not directly to me and by the time it gets to me, it’s muted.

Chapter

Eleven

Poppy

Day 28 (PS)

My unconscious streams my history with Sal like a TV show I can’t stop binging.

SAL: Hiya, Gingersnap. I’m across the damn room. Invited to this lovely shower of your bestie, Jims’. And of course Evan’s too, but no one knows I have the prettiest date. Because I’m not allowed to be with her. I call bullshit on this, gorgeous. Come sit on my lap.

POPPY: Just your lap?

SAL: Or my face. Or my dick. Your call.