Page 59 of Sunshine
Half an hour later, I pull my truck into the parking lot at one of the lesser-known Sonoma hiking trails just outside Aster Springs. Finn shoulders a pack with our water bottles while I carry our picnic. Izzy wears a little knapsack with her stuffed bunny poking out the top. And Poppy transfers half the crap from her oversized tote into a compact backpack she swiped from Daisy’s room, along with a pair of boots, a red t-shirt, and a baseball cap she wears with her ponytail bouncing out the back.She’s gorgeous, and when I check to make sure the bag won’t burden her too much, I discover it weighs next to nothing.
“How do you do that?” I ask as Poppy loops it onto her shoulders.
“It’s a girl thing,” she says. “You wouldn’t understand.”
The hike is an easy one, which is why my mom loved it, and it’s perfect for Izzy. She’s a ball of energy as we head off, and for the first ten minutes, we swallow the distance as a foursome. Even with my hopes of spending time alone with Poppy dashed by my dopey brother, it doesn’t take long before I relax and enjoy myself.
The endless expanse of blue nothing over us and the perfectly cool weather for walking. The picturesque hills and fields and woodlands, the glassy ponds reflecting birds overhead and the endless valley views that remind me how small we are. The sounds of Izzy’s constant chatter about how she adores her new teacher, the number of times she’s visited the school library, her new best friend’s ability to recite the periodic table, and how now she’scertainshe’s got her first wobbly tooth. Transferring schools has been good for her, and this is one of the few times I’m certain I’ve made the right decision for my daughter.
Beside me, easy conversation passes between Poppy and Finn, and though I try to keep up with it, I soon stop feeling the need to contribute and focus on the path under my feet, working and stretching muscles that I don’t use much anymore. I stretch my neck, the knot in my trap catching a little before it loosens up, and I sigh. For once in my life, I’m not thinking about anything other than where I am now. Right this minute. It’s awesome.
“Feel like sharing?” Poppy asks as Finn and Izzy start to gain a small lead. I deliberately slow my pace to widen the space between us, and Poppy slows with me.
“It feels good to be out in nature,” I tell her. “And it’s been too long since I took a Sunday morning off work.”
“How have you managed all these years?” she asks. “Before Finn and Daisy got back this summer, it was just you and Charlie. How did you juggle it all?”
I think back to the early days of Izzy’s life, but a lot of it is a blur. “Annalise gave birth in San Francisco, and we spent a weird three weeks in a hotel while she recovered and I tried to work out what I was doing. Part of me hoped she’d stick around, but even after Izzy was born, Annalise wasn’t interested in us being a family.”
“I’m sorry,” Poppy murmurs.
“Don’t be. She was always honest about what she wanted from me—sex, not commitment—and I was stupid not to believe her. So, after Izzy was born, Charlie hired someone to manage the restaurant so I could learn how to be a dad. Daisy came home whenever she could, and Chord paid for a bunch of things that I took for granted at the time—furniture and formula and a night nanny—but that didn’t last forever. The restaurant was struggling, and I needed to get back into the kitchen, so Charlie and I found a way to manage—the way most parents and caregivers do, I guess. You just do it. The first few years before Izzy went to preschool were the hardest.”
I kick at a rock as an old weight of failure and obligation settles on my shoulders, and I say something out loud that I’ve always carried in silence.
“I sometimes wonder if my choosing to be a father is the reason the ranch suffered for so long. I was too busy trying to be a good dad that I let my responsibilities to my siblings and the memory of my parents slip. Charlie had to shoulder more burdens than she should have by helping me raise a daughter while she fought to keep the ranch from going under. Am I the reason we nearly lost everything?” I shake my head as the old argument bounces back and forth in my head. “But then…whatwas the alternative? I made a baby, for Christ’s sake. There’s no responsibility greater than that.”
Finn and Izzy disappear around the bend ahead, so when Poppy slips her hand in mine and gives my fingers a comforting squeeze, I hold on tight so she won’t let go.
“I know you aren’t the reason for the hard times,” she says, “because there was a lot more at play than you becoming a father. You’d only just lost your parents. Chord was on the other side of the country playing hockey, Finn was in the military, and Daisy was away more than she was here. Silver Leaf is a huge operation. With or without Izzy, those years would have challenged you and Charlie in all sorts of ways. If you ask me, Izzy came along at exactly the right time. She’s what you needed—a reason to keep fighting and holding on to what mattered even when all the people who should have been by your side let go.”
My thumb brushes the back of her hand, and I risk lifting it to my lips for a grateful kiss. “Thank you.”
Poppy drops her eyes but keeps her fingers twined in mine, then nudges me gently with her shoulder. “You’re welcome.”
It’s been a long time since I was this open with anyone, and I smile to myself, thinking how easy it is to talk to Poppy. It’s her empathy and complete lack of judgment that makes her so easy to be with, as well as her ability to see the best in people and the bright side of any circumstance.
We slow our pace to barely a stroll, and I wonder if this moment would feel different if we were on a real date. Could it feel better than this? Warmer or moreright? I don’t know how that’s possible.
“So,” she says. “This resistance you have to expanding the restaurant and hiring new staff—possibly giving up a little control and appointing a new head chef—is because you had a bad experience in the past?”
“That’s part of it. But I love my job. I love the creativity and energy of a commercial kitchen. I don’t want to spend all my working hours pushing paper behind a desk.”
“You’re the boss, Dylan. You can build any kind of life you want, but you can’t do it all.”
“You’re right. In fact, I’ve drafted a proposal for Charlie that outlines a new role in the business for my sous chef, Liz, and ways we can have the second dining room operational by summer. It’s all there in black and white.”
“But you haven’t shared it with Charlie yet,” she guesses correctly. “Why not?”
“Because once Charlie’s got that proposal in her hand, she’ll run with it even if I want to slow down or change course. And like you said—I like being in control.”
“And I’m a chaos agent,” she says with a mock sigh. “I can’t relate, I’m afraid.”
“Chaos. Color. Mess.” I pump her hand to let her know it’s not a judgment. More an observation or a reflection. Maybe even a little wishful thinking. “And there isn’t much of that in Aster Springs, right? Everything’s the same here day in and day out.”
Poppy shrugs. “Life is what you make it. Camping and hiking and midnight pancakes with your parents gave my life color as a kid. I bet today’s an adventure for Izzy. And as for mess… Well, I’ve got a knack for being messy wherever I go. Here, there, somewhere else… I’ve discovered geography doesn’t really matter. I create my own disasters.”
The hint that something—or someone—hurt her in the recent past is too clear to let it pass by me again. “Is that why you came home?”
