Page 72 of Christmas Chaos
RORY: Now pull your Mama bear britches up and go get your kid.
I smile and head to the front door. They get me.
Becca is ten minutes late and I’m starting to freak out because there isn’t really a kid on the other end of this and it’s all an elaborate prank. I’m sitting on the front steps and waiting having left messages for everyone, and no one is around. I sent my parents away and now when I could possibly use them, they’re not picking up. I text Bax the address of the hospital and plead with him to meet me as soon as possible. I can’t believe he’s missing this.
I check my phone again, then I hear a cheery voice laughing. My head jerks to the right following the voice.
“What the fuck are you doing here, Poppy?” She’s a chef with a small café on the edge of the center square in downtown Sonoma, and David and Becca’s cousin. She’s like a little sister, but she’s a rule-following good girl. So, we’ve had our issues. But she’s also not-so-secretly dating a mafia don. She’s got range.
“Is that anyway to speak to me?” She pulls a headband from her pocket and smooths back her red curls. She has hair a lot like Rory’s Zoe, at least from what I can tell from the pictures of the new mama.
She stands her ground, “I’m here to hold your hand.” I grin at the phrase and as I approach her, she throws herself at me. We hug and I hold on a little longer than she does. “Hmm. Seems somebody was intuitive enough to know you’d need me.”
“I’ll be fine if I can find Bax.” I bat back some tears from my eyes and shake it off. Fuck this wheel of gouda sized thing in my belly is making me weepy.
“He’ll be there and so will Becca. But in the meantime, I’ve been deputized by the state of California so I can escort you to the hospital and hold that baby in case Bec doesn’t get there in time. Let’s go!”
I look around and there’s a giant grey Volvo SUV parked on the side of the house. Poppy has a Tesla. “Whose car?”
She hands me the keys. “Yours.”
“What are you talking about?” I run to the car. It’s gorgeous. I’m seriously freaking out that Bax bought us a family car.
Poppy smiles and says reading off her phone, “I’m supposed to tell you it’s not a true Donk, but it should do the trick getting where you need to be.”
When I was little, my dream was to own a car with the nickname Donk, a classic 1972 Chevy Impala, because I thought it looked bad ass and loved the name. I’ve told lots of people about that, but I’ve only told one person in the last ten years.
I spin around. Her grin gets even wider. “It’s a baby gift.”
Poppy skips over to the car and opens the back door. There’s a car seat already installed and stacks of diapers in the back. My eyes fill with tears because this is so kind.
She hands me a card that simply says:
They say beware of Greeks bearing gifts, but nothing about Italians. Congrats bravo bambino selvaggio.
S.
He calls me ‘wild child little sister’. I turn to Poppy and she’s bouncing on her toes. “He bought it, it’s all legal.” It has to be since he’s been working with the FBI on taking down other illegal factions in his line of work. While he goes legit, he’s crumbling the gang network in LA. He’s a good mobster if there is such a thing.
I say, “Your boyfriend bought me a car.”
“He’s not my boyfriend, just a friend.”
I start laughing. “Bull-fucking-shit. But I’ll happily accept the maestro of the mafia’s big fat fucking present.” I take a picture of it and send it to Bax.
TABI: I don’t know what the fuck meeting you’re in but the city better be burning down. Sal gave us a car. You gave me nothing today. Except a quick grope in the downstairs bathroom, which I’m grateful for, but still. It’s not a Volvo.
BAX: Sorry. Busy. Love you.
TABI: You know I’m getting in this car, which we’re calling Donk, to go retrieve your child and this is the first you’re contacting me.
BAX: I know. I’m so sorry. I’m in serious urgent business. I love you. I’ll meet you there. And that grope wasn’t long enough but I’ll makes sure to Volvo grope you soon. You know when we ever get sleep or have a moment or even a pillow.
BAX: GTG. I promise this is all worth it. There is nothing in this world or the next that will ever be as important to me as you and what we’re doing today, Bee.
TABI: Fuck you for trying to make me cry. I don’t have time for that shit. I love you too. Maybe not as poetic or as much as you love me, but it’s a lot.
I turn the phone to Poppy and shrug. “Ok, you’re up.”
