Page 61 of Smooth Talk

Chapter 27

Poppy

“Poppy! We’re heading down to the lake now. We’ll be out on the boat for a bit, but I’ll have my phone on me. Call me if you change your mind,” mom hollers up from the bottom of the stairs. I hear her and Harp as they walk out the door and down the path to the dock through my open window. I know it sounds awful, but I’m thankful they’re going. Pretending everything was okay and not totally breaking down until Harper was in bed last night was as physically as it was emotionally draining. But I put a smile on for my girl. My parents had both seen the online edition of the article, so they knew what was going on. They were outraged, of course, but bottled that negative energy until I got my sweet girl to sleep. Then we’d all commiserated over what a sorry sack of crud Rusty Dobbs is over several bottles of wine. I’ve cried so much; I don’t know if there are any more tears left to shed, and I’m so dehydrated today; I don’t know if it’s from the wine or tears. Probably both.

To make it worse, I didn’t sleep well last night. Flash-backs kept me awake. I don’t even know if Gray and I are still together. We fought. Things were said, and I walked away. I know I need to talk to him, but I’d rather it be after I get some sleep. Nightmares had me thrashing in my sleep, and I woke in a sweaty panic more than once. Would my community, clients and friends turn on me again like they had in New York? Would I have to move again? Uproot my family and my business to get away from the shame of this new bad publicity? God, I don’t think I have the energy to do that again. I don’t think I have the heart to do that to Harp. She loves Willow Creek. Her friends, the life we’ve created. Maybe I’m blowing everything out of proportion. Maybe it’s not as bad as I think.

There’s a soft knock at the door; I know it’s my dad trying for one last heart-to-heart before they take off. “Come in.”

“Hey Pop Star. How’re you holding up?” He comes over to the edge of my bed, I’m laying across, and sits next to me. Even the use of my childhood nickname doesn’t do anything to sweeten my sour mood. I’ve always loved it. Especially when I was younger, and I thought my musical talents would lead to a career in that field. Nothing would have made my mom happier, but it was not to be. After a particularly bad bout of stage fright in high school, I stopped playing publicly and set my sights on design. And although I still play and music does make me happy, it’s more of a hobby than life goals.

“I’m okay Daddy, just took a hit to my pride is all. That article brought back some bad memories, you know? I’m really glad Harper doesn’t start school until Wednesday. She’s stoked about being in Ms. Max’s class. Hopefully, four days will be enough time for this to all blow over.”

“Hey, the people who know you know what a piece of trash that article was. It’s a complete fabrication from start to finish. That Dobbs kid can kiss his career goodbye though.”

“Well, I certainly hope so. I would love it if Rusty got some instant karma.”

“Not karma honey. Caroline.” I look at him with my brow furrowed. But I can feel my hope perk up. “You don’t know do you?” I shake my head at him. “Caroline Maxwell is the largest private donor to the newspaper. She’s been doing it anonymously for years, until now. She voiced her concerns to the board. Made it clear that she wouldn’t be continuing her support of a ‘local rag that encourages tabloid style reporting, invades people’s privacy, and prints smut and lies about the upstanding citizens in our community.’” He uses air quotes, then gives a light chuckle when he finishes. My mind is blown.

“How do you know all this Dad?” I ask sitting up straight on the bed.

“Apparently someone took video of the meeting, and it’s on YouTube. It’s gone viral. Well, small-town-viral; everyone in Willow Creek has seen it. The support of your business and testimony of your good character are the outstanding voices among the commenters.” He’s smiling down at me. “You sure have made a good impression on the people of our little town. And I know I couldn’t be prouder of the woman you’ve become.” I feel tears stinging my eyes again. I didn’t think I could cry anymore. Apparently, I was wrong.

“Thank you, Daddy.” I was so worried I’d be judged for those pictures and the article; I can’t believe it. Actually, scratch that. I can. Willow Creek supports its own. I think about my small town with its quaint tree-lined streets and century-old brick buildings downtown. The picturesque squares with historic homes and brightly painted brick boutiques and restaurants. The natural beauty surrounding all of it. The tight-knit community. The support of family, friends, and local businesses. It may be a gossipy place at times (where everyone knows your business before you do), but we always have each other’s backs. You attack one of us, you attack us all. It’s a shame Rusty wasn’t aware of that before he wrote the article. Maybe he was but he just forgot. Lost himself somewhere along life’s path. We all do sometimes. Lose track of what’s really important. The lucky ones realize it before it’s too late or we at least get a second chance to get it right. I almost feel bad for him. But he’s getting what he deserves. His second chance will come around eventually, and I truly hop he doesn’t squander it.

“There’s also a video of Rusty apologizing and resigning on the newspaper’s FB page. You should watch them.” He kisses the top of my head when he gets up, “Have a little faith. And give that young man of yours a call. He makes an appearance in the videos as well. Your phone’s been vibrating all morning. It’s driving your mother nuts, and believe me, you do not want her answering your calls or returning your texts. You should probably go grab it off the counter before she decides to come back and take it with us.” He’s smiling, trying to cheer me up. And I appreciate it. I’m just a little bewildered at the moment.

Gray stood up for me. Caroline stood up for me. Heck, the entire town stood up for me. My parents are proud of me; my friends support me, and my daughter loves me. I didn’t fully appreciate all of those things until this very moment. God, I am so lucky to have all these wonderful people in my life. I was so busy running away and feeling sorry for myself, I lost track of what’s important. The wave of gratitude overwhelms me. As irritated as I am with Rusty Dobbs, I am thankful to him as well. He’s made me realize that running from problems doesn’t solve them. I can trust people. Grayson, specifically. God, I’ve been so foolish. I need to make some calls. After I watch some videos, obviously.

“One last thing before I go, because I can see you’re struggling with something. Honey, Reed was and probably still is an idiot. Not every man will be like that.”

“I know.”

“That Maxwell boy seems like good people.’ I nod in agreement. ‘The kind of man I’d welcome into our family when the time is right.”

“Dad, we haven’t even,” he waves me off before I can finish.

“Sweetheart, when you know, you know. And your old man here knows a thing or two. That boy cares for you and for Harp. I can see it in the way he looks at you.’ Geez, he’s killing me here, like I wasn’t already feeling guilty enough about the way I’ve behaved. ‘There will always be someone who doesn’t know your worth, Poppy. Just don’t let that person be you.’ Bam! and the hits keep coming. ‘Now go grab that phone, I can hear it buzzin’ from here.”

“Thanks Daddy, I’ll grab it in a sec.”

He kisses the top of my head again and walks out, leaving me to my thoughts. His work is done.

I’ve been wallowing in my bedroom far too long. Harp and I met my parents up here for a long weekend at their house on Lake Norman; Monday is Labor Day. They’d invited us weeks ago, but I’d turned them down in an effort to spend every available second with Grayson, as this was our last weekend together before Harp started back to school. He couldn’t come because he (along with Oliver and Vi) entered in the ‘Run for A Cure’ Marathon Willow Creek puts on every year, plus he has speaking engagements today and Monday. I look at the clock on the wall, he should be at a luncheon at the country club right now. One Harper and I were supposed to attend with him. I feel bad for leaving him hanging; I know how much he hates those things. Sighing, I walk out of my room toward the kitchen. It’s too late now. Even if I wanted to go, I couldn’t. It’s a three-hour drive, and I haven’t showered in days. No one would appreciate my attendance. And that’d really do some damage to my newly reacquired self-confidence.

The plans for a quiet weekend together flew out the window the second I realized everyone in town had seen that article; I fled— my signature move, literally running scared. I hate confrontation and have an irrational fear of the unknown. But I’ve got to be better; not just for myself, but for Harp too. It’s not going to happen overnight, but I’m working on my issues, starting today.

Standing up to a bully is the only way to get them to back down and make no mistake, Rusty Dobbs is a bully. Thankfully, I had an entire town willing to stand up for me. Grayson had my back, maybe not at first. His accusatory tone hadn’t been helpful; it only added to my anxiety. I’d gotten angry, but he’d called it. Knew exactly what I was doing. I said I needed time away to get my thoughts together. Deal with my emotions. But I was running.

I swipe my phone off the counter and step out onto the back deck. It feels so good out here, balmy. There’s a nice breeze coming off the water and it’s slightly overcast. It’s the perfect day to start fresh. I flop onto a chaise and ignore all the missed calls and texts I have and pull up my FB app. (I have 12 from Ruby and Emma and 9 from Grayson, and 1 from Caroline. I even have 2 from my cousin HK, who’s a whole state away, I guess bad news really does travel fast. I’m surprised Sara hasn’t gotten in touch. Then again, New York is quite a piece north of the Mason-Dixon.)

I watch and re-watch the videos; scroll through half the comments. I don’t realize tears are streaming down my cheeks until a breeze blows by, freezing my waterlogged face, neck and chest. My dress is soaked. It’s the closest thing I’ve had to a shower since Thursday morning. It’s Saturday. And I can smell myself. It’s not pleasant. I need a shower. But right now, I’m busy being happy that there really is some good left in the world. It gives me hope for Harp’s generation.

This was the reason I didn’t want to get involved with Grayson. I didn’t want to deal with living a public lifestyle again. Now I’m smack dab in the center of it with mixed emotions. The reaction from my neighbors, clients and friends (heck, even total strangers) are astounding; the fact that they needed to come to my aid in the first place is insane. My relationship with Gray is what has caused this sudden interest in my personal life. I was just your average single parent, small business owner a few months ago. Not on anyone’s radar. Now everyone in town knows my name, and I’m still unsure how I feel about it.

My original fifteen minutes of fame I had in New York, cured me of ever wanting to be famous. But if I want to continue this relationship with Gray, I’ll have to find a way to get comfortable in the public sphere his family thrives in. Maybe I just need to grow a thicker skin. Maybe I should put more faith in the people I care about. More faith in myself and stop all the dang running. This weekend has been an eye-opening experience to say the least.

Harper isn’t fazed by any added attention. Any time we’ve all gone out together and Gray’s mobbed by people that want to talk to him, she takes it in stride. I think she thinks he’s some kind of celebrity. In a way, I guess he is. School hasn’t started yet, so she hasn’t had the opportunity to really be bullied or teased about her family. I don’t want her to go through that again. But the fact that I just used the word family, and it included Gray, is telling. He is a part of our family. He’s not just there for me; he’s there for Harper. He cares so much for both of us. He loves us. God, I can’t believe it. He. Loves. Us.

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