Page 60 of Faking It With the Grumpy Single Dad

Poppy is so patient with the boys, even when they’re bickering over the smallest things, and she has a knack for getting them to laugh even when the day has gone a little sour. It’s easy to see that she loves them, and it makes me feel complete in a way I’d almost forgotten I needed.

“Ten seconds!” Poppy calls out, her eyes shining as she nods toward the pier, where the fireworks crew is moving into position. She starts the countdown, and the boys join in, their voices rising with excitement, filling the night air around us. In the distance, the other locals gathered on the frigid beach are echoing the countdown so loudly that I swear the stars themselves can hear us.

“Nine, eight, seven…”

We’re all looking toward the moonlit ocean now, the stage that’s been set for the glittering performance about to begin. Our excited breaths float through the cold air, curling up toward the dark sky like tendrils of smoke.

Our voices meld into one. “Six, five, four…”

I sneak a glance at Poppy as we reachthree, two, one…

The first burst of color explodes in the sky, and Cody lets out a cheer, jumping up and down as more fireworks follow, painting the night in a rush of color. Poppy’s laughter rings out beside me, and I can’t resist reaching out for her. I pull her close, wrapping my arms around her as the rainbow bursts illuminate her face. She smiles up at me, eyes full of warmth.

“Happy New Year, Poppy.”

She beams, reaching up to cup my face. She kisses me, soft and tender, like she’s telling me all the things we haven’t put into words yet—all the things we’ve been building, bit by bit, over these last several months. When she pulls away, I’m left a little breathless.

“Happy New Year, Joe,” she whispers, her fingers brushing my cheek.

The boys are still whooping beside us, enthralled by the fireworks as if they’ve never seen them before. Childlike wonder will never cease to amaze me. To them, every fascinating thing is brand new. It’s nice to be reminded what that feels like again. To see the world with fresh, fascinated eyes. To wake up everymorning feeling like I’m facing the day with genuine hope in my heart.

Eli looks up at us, catching us in the middle of our moment, and his eyes widen as he nudges Cody, grinning like he’s in on some kind of secret.

I give him a half smile, hoping he won’t make too big a deal of it, but that’s wishful thinking. He nudges Cody again and, together, the boys scurry a little ways down the beach to give us a moment of privacy.

Poppy laughs, her cheeks going even pinker in the brisk air, but she leans into me a little more, unfazed by the boys’ antics. We let the boys carry on their teasing several yards behind us as we walk back to the house. Our little group moves through the sand and up the steps of the porch, past the outdoor fire pit where scattered blankets and leftover mugs from earlier, now empty of hot chocolate, have been abandoned. It’s a ritual she’s introduced us to—a cup of hot chocolate with a little pinch of cinnamon and a marshmallow, she says. Apparently, it’s something her dad used to do for her when they were living on the road.

Once inside the cottage, now fully renovated, the boys toss off their jackets and flop onto the couch, wrestling for control of the remote while Poppy and I make our way to the kitchen.

“I can’t believe we made it to midnight,” she says, her voice low as she places a mug in front of me and reaches for the box of chamomile tea in the cupboard. Her eyes flick over to where the boys are still sprawled across the couch, their limbs tangled as they try to decide what movie to watch. “They’ll crash soon, you know.”

“Oh, I know. I give them ten minutes, tops.”

She laughs softly, and there’s a warmth in her gaze that melts me more every single day. I’m not even surprised thatI’ve become so soft. Honestly, I’m more shocked that I ever let myself grow so hard.

“Actually,” she murmurs, taking my hand and giving it a gentle squeeze, “I wanted to show you something. A little surprise. I thought that maybe now, with the magic of the new year and all that, it’s the right time.”

I raise an eyebrow, a little curious and a little confused. But I trust her, so I let her guide me upstairs, past the boys’ temporary sleeping arrangements in the guest bedroom, and down the hallway to the two rooms she’s recently put the finishing touches on with Misha. I haven’t been very involved in those final details, having tidied up the last of the structural changes this past summer.

She stops just outside the first door, her hand lingering on the doorknob as she glances at me, a flicker of nervousness in her ocean-blue gaze.

“I know it hasn’t been that long, and I know this might be a bit unconventional, but… just take a look, okay?”

She opens the door, and I take a step inside.

I can barely believe what I’m seeing.

It’s a bedroom—warm, welcoming, and with every detail thoughtfully chosen right down to the vintage soccer posters on the wall and the bookshelves filled with graphic novels. There’s a bed in the corner with a set of flannel sheets made up neatly—the cozy kind of bedding that Eli likes—and a small desk against the far wall with a little lamp. It’s everything he could ever want in a space.

Everything he could ever need to feel at home.

And there’s a second bedroom, done up with the same care and attention to detail, only this one is filled with the things I know Cody would love. It’s softer, a little more refined, with shelves full of his favorite books and a little window seat for him to curl up in when he wants a quiet moment to read. There’seven a shared bathroom connecting the two rooms, complete with matching towels and a little sign that says,Brothers Only.

I turn back to Poppy, my heart hammering as I take it all in. “You… you did all of this for them?”

She nods, biting her lip as she reaches for my hand. “I know it hasn’t even been a year, Joe, but I… love you. I do. And I love them. And I thought… maybe it’s time we all had a place to come home to together.”

“I…” My voice is lodged in my throat as I continue to stare at the rooms.

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