Page 183 of Five Summers

“Do they tickle when they eat?”

“No, but sometimes you can feel their slimy tongue on your palm.”

He screws up his face and then glances back at the photo. Using his fingers he zooms in as if trying to focus on what’s on Poppy’s hand. “What are those?” he asks.

“Pellets. They sell bags of pellets so you can feed the animals. There are these huge birds that look scary and are always there, waiting to be fed," I tell him, as he looks up at me. “They look pretty weird, with their long necks.”

“Are they kind of like ostriches,” he asks.

I nod.

“They're emus.”

“Yeah, that’s right,” I say, impressed by his extensive knowledge. Poppy had mentioned his deep love for animals, and it’s clear that his wealth of knowledge is truly remarkable. I am confident that he and Theo will hit it off effortlessly. Their mutual passion for animals is bound to forge a profound bond between them.

“Do you have any photos of the emus?”

“Yeah, there are some in there,” I reply.

He goes back to my phone and keeps swiping through more photos, asking more questions about the zoo.

We immediately raise our heads at the sound of the front door opening. Poppy walks down the front steps, holding a bag in her hand.

I carefully help Alex down off the hood of the car and move him onto the footpath.

“Hey Alex, don't go near the road. Just stay here, okay? I’m going to help Mommy with the bag,” I tell him.

"Okay," he says, not bothering to take his eyes off the screen.

Approaching Poppy, I can’t help but notice her red eyes, as if she has been crying. It breaks my heart to see her like this. After taking the bag from her, I gently lift her chin, urging her to look at me. As I scan her face, she forces a smile, but I’m not fooled. Something has happened in that house, something thathas deeply upset the strongest person I know. It pains me to witness her in such a state.

“Oh,” she suddenly says, “I forgot to get Alex’s car seat.”

"I'll handle it," I reassure her, eager to take charge and shield her from the constant turmoil caused by her mother.

“Xander, it’s only going to bring more trouble.”

“I doubt getting our son's car seat will make her hate me any more than she already does. Let me handle this, Poppy. You can trust me. I won’t cause any trouble. You don't have to go through this alone anymore. Let me support you.”

She nods as if granting me permission to get the seat.

Taking her hand, I lead her out the front gate to Alex, who is still completely absorbed in the multitude of photos.

Once Poppy reaches Alex, she crouches down beside him.

“What are you looking at?” she asks, her arm wrapped around his waist as she leans in to see what has caught his eye. I watch their interaction for a brief moment, appreciating the way Poppy is with our son. It’s a connection, a bond, that I’m grateful to be a part of.

Heading to the car, I place Alex’s bag in the trunk next to ours. As Poppy entertains Alex with some photos on her phone, I walk back through the gate and make my way to her mother’s parked car in the driveway. I just wanna see if Alex's seat is still in there. Even though Poppy is upset, I don't really care if her mom calls the cops on me for stepping onto her lawn. I also don’t care if her mother’s car is unlocked. It won’t stop me from getting my son’s car seat out without her permission. I’ll just deal with the consequences when they arise.

As I near the vehicle, my gaze falls upon a child car seat through the rear window. I try to open the door, only to find it’s locked. My focus switches to the front door and I start making my way there. But then my attention suddenly changes when I see movement in the backyard.

As I make my way around the back of the house, I catch sight of Poppy’s mother in her garden. She’s wearing gloves, a large sunhat and diligently tending to her rose garden with clippers in hand. It's so fucking frustrating how she can just act like her daughter hasn't been out there, upset and crying.

I go through the side gate and head towards her. As I approach, she turns and I lock eyes with her fiery gaze. Her body tenses up and her lips get thinner. Despite the temptation to confront her, I resist the urge to speak my mind. I really want her to know about Poppy’s amazing musical skills, But, I quickly dismiss the idea, knowing deep down that it won’t make a difference. Her hatred for musicians and music is so strong, that no matter what I say, her opinion will remain unchanged.

Despite these intense urges, I restrain myself. It shouldn’t be up to me to tell her how amazing her daughter is. If she hasn’t realized it by now, she never will. Besides, I’m devoted to becoming a better man for both Poppy and my son. Rather than voicing any frustrations I may have had in the past, I opt to keep my thoughts to myself.

“We need to grab Alex’s car seat,” I say to her, trying my best to sound polite. All I want is to tell the raging bitch that her rude behavior will only bring her loneliness in the end.

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