Page 94 of Never Really Over

I was looking forward to tonight. Even though Layla was over last night, it still feels like it’s been too long since we’ve seen each other. When I told Poppy we were going to Layla’s house, she got a huge smile on her face and brought her shoes to me.

They’re clicking better than I could have hoped and it’s the bright spot I desperately needed.

“Lay!”

Did she just… “Did you say Layla, Tootsie Pop?”

“Lay! Go!”

Well, that couldn’t have been any clearer. “Okay, okay, I hear you.”

I back out of the garage and once we’re on the road, Poppy starts clapping.

Knowing how well Layla and Poppy get along turns my sour mood around. Poppy “singing” along to the country music station I have playing in my truck doesn’t hurt, either.

My girl loves listening to music and even though I’ve tried to play the typical kid songs, she really dances and sings to country. What can I say? She’s my little mini.

By the time we reach Layla’s mom’s house, Poppy and I are singing and laughing and my mood is officially lifted.

I’m reaching into the back seat to unbuckle Poppy when I hear the screen door slam shut. Looking over my shoulder behind me, I see Layla walking our way with a huge smile on her face.

I lift Poppy into my arms and the second she spots Layla, she reaches for her.

“Hi, baby girl,” Layla coos. “You look especially adorable today. Someone must really know how to pick out clothes for you.”

“I’m officially outnumbered, aren’t I?”

Layla beams and Poppy plants a wet, sloppy kiss on her cheek.

“Yup!”

She rises up on her toes and leans in for a kiss, which I give her.

“Hi.”

“Hi there. Does it sound needy if I tell you I missed you?”

Giving her another kiss, I whisper in her ear, “Nope. Missed you, too. Need you back in my bed, babe.”

She blows out a shaky breath and turns her attention to Poppy, giving her a cute little bounce. “Your dada is gonna get me all started up.”

The first night Poppy called me Dada, Layla admitted to overhearing it. She wanted to make sure I was okay. I assured her I was, or that I’d at least get there. Over the last week, Poppy’s been saying it more and more and Layla started saying it as well after confirming with me that I was okay with it.

We discussed it, and I talked to our friends about it as well, and we figured it was natural for Poppy to see me as her dad now, and not to discourage it. For a few days I was ashamed at how much I liked hearing her calling me Dada. It should be Mason hearing those words, but continuing to think that way won’t help anything. I can’t be who Poppy needs me to be if I’m constantly feeling guilt.

Something that Maureen reminded me of when she and I talked about how the accident wasn’t her fault and she needed to let go of the guilt that was weighing her down.

“Are you hungry, Poppy?”

“Lay!”

“That’s right! I’m Layla! Goodness, it is so awesome to hear her say my name.”

“I know. Want to know something else that’s equally awesome?”

“Always.”

I drape the diaper bag over my shoulder and we walk toward the house while she carries Poppy, who can’t stop playing with Layla’s hair. I get it, though. I love playing with it, too. Preferably when we’re doing other things, but still. “Tonight I told Poppy we were coming to see you and she brought me her shoes so we could leave. She pointed at them and said “Go!” like she was in a hurry to get out of the house. Apparently she was as excited as I was to see you.”

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