Page 73 of Special Delivery
CHAPTER 33
‘I am feeling very mutton-dressed-as-lamb,’ Poppy announced, tugging at her neckline. She was wearing a periwinkle-blue dress with a cowl neck and mid-length hem—borrowed from Dani, of course. (Her own wardrobe was almost exclusively milk-stained lycra.)
‘Hon, you look smoking,’ replied Dani, pulling her heel out of the mud as they wove through the car park to the racetrack entrance. ‘You’re just not used to getting your girls out.’
Poppy looked down at her chest. Breastfeeding had enlarged her boobs to basketball proportions and now they’d shrunk back to limp windsocks. She also had a sneaking suspicion they were now different sizes but she’d avoided measuring for fear of confirming the worst. So yes, it was fair to say the girls had been hidden for the last seven months—the Thursday afternoon interlude notwithstanding.
‘I can’t believe you convinced me not to bring a coat,’ whined Poppy.
‘It’ll be warm in the tent,’ insisted Dani, who knew nothing about Orange’s climate. ‘Besides, that colour makes your eyes look like laser beams, Pops. I’ve always said you need to harness that laser power more. Your eyes were so wasted with Patrick and his one-dimensional ideas of hotness. I am still not over the fact he chose Gisele Bündchen as his hall pass. Like, could he be any more clichéd? He was definitely no Tom Brady.’
‘Definitely not the GOAT,’ Poppy confirmed.
‘But in some ways, very similar toagoat,’ mused Dani.
‘For example, his voice,’ said Poppy.
‘And … penis size?’ proffered Dani.
They cackled like two witches. Poppy’s heart felt so nourished after having spent the whole morning with Dani, with no small children to interrupt their frenetically zigzagging conversations, which had so far involved lots of cathartic bitching about Patrick. According to Dani, he was still living in the same apartment and had the same job, just partying more than usual. The thought made Poppy’s head hurt. He was always drinking and staying out late even when they were together. How was he finding the energy to do more?
The only topic they’d relished more than Patrick was James. How good was he in bed? (Amazing, obviously.) Was he messed up about his ex? (Well, apparently.) Was he likely to break Poppy’s heart? (Of course not, because Poppy’s heart had nothing to do with their recent bedroom shenanigans. That had been an animal instinct thing.)
Dear old reliable Dani—ever the assertive and confident decision-maker with the voice projection to prove it—hadtaken a black-and-white view of the whole situation. They should either never have sex again or Have The Chat.
‘I can’t demand we’re official after one random hook-up!’ Poppy had argued while sitting at her kitchen bench that morning. ‘That would be socringe!’ There wererulesabout this stuff. Even she knew that.
‘Pops, the guy sounds like a heartbreaker. He’s already disappeared on you once—who’s to say that won’t happen again? Labelling things might protect you.’
Dani munched on her croissant and passed a jam-slathered crust to Maeve in the highchair. ‘And you should probably have the chat before he touches your boob and milk squirts on him. How are you going to deal with those kinds of shitshows if you don’t know where you stand? Although, no judgement from me if you’ve already told him your boobs are off limits. Mine were a no-man’s-land for like ten months after Nella was born.’
‘Really?’ Poppy pulled the sticky crust away from Maeve and passed her a teething rusk. ‘My nips are like leathery Tarzan’s feet these days. Zero sensory capacity. He could touch my boobs all he liked and I’d hardly notice.’ (She woulddefinitelynotice.)
Dani snorted. ‘I’m just saying—’
‘Okay, I get it,’ Poppy relented. ‘We need to cool off.’
Dani was probably right. What would have happened if they’d moved from the kitchen bench to the bedroom all those months ago? Would he have stayed the night? Would she havewanted him to? The thought of him waking to her unclipping her maternity bra at 3 am was so blergh. Maeve let out a yelp and Poppy grudgingly passed back the jammy croissant.
‘I’m not trying to pressure you into making a decision, Pops. I just want you to be careful.’
‘I know, Dan.’ She sighed and moved the jam jar out of Maeve’s eyeline. ‘That’s why I’ll blame you if I’m celibate for the rest of my life.’
‘Hon, I’ll buy you a new vibrator. You’ll thank me in the long run.’
An hour later as Dani sang a Miley Cyrus medley in the shower and Maeve slept off her raspberry jam high, Poppy heard a quiet knock at the front door. She opened it to find James standing there, looking offensively handsome in his chinos and navy blazer.
‘I was trying not to wake Maeve,’ he said, pointing at the doorbell he’d chosen not to ring.
Poppy smiled. He was a good egg.
‘I thought you and Dani might want these for the races,’ he said, pulling two paper wristbands from his blazer pocket. ‘Gets you free entry everywhere. A friend had some spare so I grabbed them for you.’
‘Thanks,’ said Poppy, careful not to brush his fingertips as she took them from him. Just seeing him was numbing her brain to almost-paralysis. She needed to Not Think About His Naked Body. God, that was hard when he was looking so delicious in those slim-fit chinos, and his lips were so warm and firm … good god, she needed to simmer down.Boundaries!
She swallowed and ploughed ahead. ‘We’re friends, right?’
‘Of course,’ said James, his eyes narrowing as though trying to X-ray her. ‘I don’t drop off free wristbands to my enemies.’
