Page 61 of Sunshine
“Exactly.”
I absorb their little exchange with increasing alarm. Poppy’s going to cost me hundreds of dollars at this rate. Isn’t a kid’s first tooth worth, like, fifty cents?
Finn chuckles as I turn my incredulous glare onto Poppy, who arches her brows in reply.
“There’s a spot not too far from here where we can stop to rinse out Izzy’s mouth and have something to eat,” Finn says as he checks his watch. “Then it might be time to head back.”
“Yes! I can eat apples again.” Izzy squirms out of my arms, landing on the ground like a cat and speeding down the trail. “I know where we’re going. Follow me.”
“I’ll go,” Finn says with a smirk I’d like to wipe off his smug face. “You kids take your time.”
“He knows,” Poppy says at the exact moment I do.
She pins me with a worried look, her brow furrowed and her teeth worrying at her lip. “Should we— Is it going to be a problem?”
“I’ll take care of Finn,” I assure her. “Unless you want to—”
“No,” she says. “I don’t.”
No, she doesn’t want to tell Daisy about us? Or no, she doesn’t want this thing between us to end? I decide it doesn’t matter. The result is the same, but I let myself think for a minute about coming clean with my sister. Going public with our relationship. Letting Izzy fall in love with Poppy and letting my daughter believe that this time, it’ll last forever. Would it be so bad?
When Poppy disappears in the summer and leaves me here to clean up all the mess? Yeah. It would be that bad.
So, I kiss her quickly and remind myself—again—to enjoy what I have while I have it.
“Twelve dollars?” I ask, and when she grins like the devil, I bite back a smile of my own. “Let’s go eat lunch, and we can talk a little more about the tooth fairy and dental health and the concept of inflation. And if I can’t convince her that twelve bucks for tooth number one is completely ridiculous, I’m blaming you.”
“Fair. And if I can’t convince her to up the price to fifteen dollars, I’m handing in my nanny badge.”
She reaches up on tiptoes to brush her lips against mine, and when we’re walking along the trail again, I find myself wondering how much mess and color it would take to keep Poppy in my life—and if I’m reckless enough to try it.
seventeen
Dylan
The next day, Islip out of the restaurant after lunch service and use my visit to Finn’s place as an excuse to get a little exercise. I swap my chef’s whites for training gear, my black leather boots for running shoes, and let the earth pass beneath my feet as I jog around the hiking trails that crisscross Silver Leaf Ranch. I choose the left fork, then the right, then right again, never once second-guessing the best route to Mom and Dad’s old bungalow. I might not have time to explore the property the way I did with my brothers and sisters when we were kids, but some things you never forget. And I know every curve and ridge and rise of this land like I know the back of my hand.
I’m breathing hard and covered in sweat when I reach Finn’s porch steps, pausing a minute to lean on the railing and catch my breath. My parents built this hideaway here on the river as a private accommodation for overnight guests at Silver Leaf Ranch—but they never once leased the place out. It’s not much more than a studio with a loft for a bedroom, and it became something of a haven when they were in the throes of raisingfive kids. It’s grown a little ramshackle in the ten years since my mom died. Dad spent a lot of time here in the two years after that—I think he felt closest to her here—but then he was gone too, and neither Charlie nor I could bring ourselves to let strangers through its doors.
So, we boarded it up with promises to think about it again “one day.” Who would have guessed that Finn would show up before that elusive “one day,” returning home from active service and staking his claim on the place?
Standing here now, I’m reminded of how remote and secluded the place is, how calm it feels with the water and its short dock so close and trees encroaching almost up to the doorstep. But there’s also evidence of Finn’s handiwork in the patched curtains, repaired porch steps, and pruned garden beds, and it strikes me how kind of perfect this place is for our solitary middle brother.
When I’m breathing easily again, some of the sweat wiped from my brow with the hem of my t-shirt, I knock a few times on the old screen door, then let myself inside. Finn’s old rescue dog, a golden Lab he named Dakota, lurches off the sofa and, with a dignified kind of scramble, comes to greet me with her tail wagging and wet nose raised with curiosity. I give her a friendly scratch behind her ears.
“To what do I owe the honor?” Finn asks from the top of the ladder to the loft. When I haven’t given him an answer by the time his feet hit the hardwood floor, he shoots me a shit-eating grin. “It’s about Poppy, isn’t it?”
“Shut up,” I grumble, helping myself to his fridge and a chilled bottle of water. “And also…yes.”
“Take a seat, little bro, and tell me your woes.”
I came to make sure Finn kept his mouth shut, but now that I’m here, I’m in the mood to talk. I don’t even realize I want to get things off my chest until I drop onto the opposite end ofFinn’s old sofa, Dakota drowsing between us, and my brother scrutinizes me like he already knows the inside of my mind.
“You like her,” he accuses with a tiny smirk.
“We all like Poppy.”
Finn rolls his eyes and drags his hand down Dakota’s soft back. “Youlike-like her.”
