Page 82 of Falling Into Forever
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I turnright onto Grady’s dirt drive and take it slow over potholes and turns I’m not used to navigating yet. When we finally pull into a clearing, Grady is sitting in front of his house in one of four Adirondack chairs that were not there yesterday.
That’s not all that looks different. There are also potted plants hanging from the guest house balcony, a swing set that’s only partly constructed in the corner, what looks like a kiddie pool, and pink plastic toys littering the yard.
“What the fu—unicycle is all this?” Saylor asks. She chances a quick peek to the back seat with a guilty expression. It’s cute, but I’m more impressed she caught herself. It’s taken me years to get my curses under control around little ears.
“It seems Grady might be more excited about having guests than he let on,” I say, barely suppressing a laugh.
Lena leans forward between the two front seats and gawks at the sight before us. “Did he…did he do all of this for—us?”
My heart pinches. Lena hasn’t had the easiest life, and she never takes charity. It’s all I can do to get her to take money from me that I promised is coming out of Trent’s company shares. It’s not, but he’s not paying child support, so I had to do something.
“It’s not his usual modus operandi, that’s for sure,” Saylor says, a little wonder sprinkling her tone. She shrugs. “First time for everything, I guess.”
Poppy fell asleep halfway home, so the three of us sit there and stare at Grady through the windshield.
After a few moments, he stands briskly, obviously annoyed at our slack-jawed ogling.
“Are you just going to sit there and stare at me?” He doesn’t raise his voice. Not really. But we all hear him clear as day anyway. He points an angry finger at me. “Do not make this weird, Thompson.”
Shaking my head, I open my door, which wakes Poppy. This kid is the polar opposite of Saylor because she wakes up singing. The song of the day today is “Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo.”
Grady’s going to love it.
Opening my door spurs the girls into action, and they exit the car while I grab Poppy. As soon as she’s unbuckled, she squirms until I set her on her feet, and then she takes off running straight to Grady.
Well, huh. That’s new. Poppy normally shies away from new men, but Saylor and Lena are almost to him, too, so I hurry to catch up, and I’m just in time to hear Poppy say, “You’re big.”
“Yes,” Grady says. At least his tone is gentler than anything he’s used with me.
Poppy waves her hand, motioning for Grady to come closer, but he frowns at us because she’s already nearly touching him. Then she uses two hands to gesture, and he slides gracefully to one knee.
She places both hands on his shoulders and pats him like she’s about to pronounce him king. “Do you have friends?”
Grady flashes a panicked expression my way, silently pleading for help, and I laugh.
“Kids,” I offer. “Poppy calls all kids friends.”
He shakes his head in response and scans every inch of the little girl.
I squeeze Lena’s shoulder affectionately, but all the color has drained from her face like she’s seen a ghost as she watches Grady with Poppy. I have no idea why. Maybe it’s because she hasn’t been around a lot of good men in her life? Grady may piss me off, but he is a good man. I’ll need to remember to tell her that.
“Nah,” Grady croaks, then clears his throat and tries again. “I don’t have any kids.” Poppy moves forward and climbs onto his bent knee, hugging him tightly around the neck so she doesn’t fall off.
“So why ya have so many toys?” She’s fascinated by him, and my shoulders shake with silent laughter at his obvious discomfort.
Saylor smacks my chest, but her eyes are smiling too.
Grady tugs at the back of his neck. “I guess I thought you’d need some stuff while you were here.”
Poppy reacts like an old-school cartoon with big expressions and even bigger gestures. “You gots this stuff for me?”
“To use,” Lena says, stepping forward. Her voice quivers, and her hands shake. Trent has scared the shit out of her. “We’re borrowing them. You have to give everything back when we go home.”
Grady’s face pinches together, and his cheeks turn red. “No, you don’t,” he tells Poppy.
“Yes, she does,” Lena says, standing her ground. “We work hard for our—toys.”
