Poppy's Passions (11 page)

"Baby.” His voice cracked like he was holding back tears.

"Hi, Trev. I'm okay,” she promised.

He took a step forward only to stop himself short. “You're hurt.” His cheeks were as pale as hers felt. “I hurt you at the house. I realized what I said five minutes later, and I ordered flowers. A lot of them because I was such a bastard, but you were already gone. I never want you to feel like you can't come to me with anything. You were leaving. Hell, I'll go before I want you to leave the ranch. If you need space from me, we can do that. I can do business in LA, and we'll try again when you feel better and I'm not so fucking stupid. I want you happy. Tell me what to do."

"Maybe I could have a glass of water?” Her mouth was dry from the medications she received and dust still clung from the airbags.

"That's it?” Trevor asked, and she saw some of his desperation easing. She didn't want him to hurt anymore. It didn't feel right to see him without his smile.

"It's a start, and maybe you could hold my hand?” She held her hand palm up. “What happened to your eye?"

He gave her a drink first and gently ran a warm towel over her face. “Cody reminded me of my manners. Do you need another blanket or anything?"

"For now, I just want you,” she replied as he made his way around the lines and monitors. He sat beside her, taking her free hand between his big ones. “I'm oversensitive, handsome, and not just in bed."

That got a smile from him.

"I don't like my feelings hurt, Trevor. My father thinks it's okay to use me, and order me around like I'm an animal. A dumb animal. I let my family push me around and make me feel inferior. I don't...that's not what I want in my new family. I refuse to have that family again."

"We aren't like that, baby. I promise. I'm never doing that again. It was a joke in college, the food or fucking thing, but it's stupid now. You mean everything to me. I love every part of you, and when Michael nails me in the other eye, I'll deserve it.” With soft kisses to her palms, he reinforced his promises with simple touch. “I'm sorry."

"I forgive you.” Never once had her father said he loved her, let alone apologized for any of his slights. “And tell Michael I asked him not to hit you. One's enough, but next time..."

Trevor laughed, like she needed him to. His conscience wouldn't let him feel bad longer than he needed and she wouldn't either.

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Plenty bruised, but not broken, Duane released Poppy the next afternoon after positively diagnosing three ulcers and starting treatment. Michael, Trevor and Cody tucked her in bed in a pair of silk pajamas she'd never seen but had Cody's preferences all over them. From the feminine pink color to the extreme softness that made her want to cuddle in and never take them off, she felt Baby Boy in every stitch. The flowers Trevor promised were beside her bed, a gorgeous bouquet of her favorite colors. She'd never seen blue roses but wasn't surprised Trevor found a way to get them in a bundle surrounded by dahlias, chrysanthemums, and mini white daisies.

Chocolates, a bottle of soda and a new flat screen had also found their way into her room. She wasn't a fan of TV in the bedroom, but Duane warned he would discharge her only if she agreed to rest so they'd added movie channels. To her delight, a stack of new releases, handpicked by Michael, whose bookshelf she usually raided, sat beside her nightstand. They left her to rest, surrounded by everything they thought she might need and promised to be within hearing distance if they'd forgotten anything.

When she woke, hours later, the sun was long gone and she wasn't surprised to see her boys stretched out around the room. She sat up, rubbed the sleep from her eyes and surveyed the evening-dimmed area. Trevor was asleep on the sofa, his long legs barely fitting between the cushioned ends. Cody slept on the armchair beside her fireplace, Michael on its match in the conversation area near her bookshelf.

They were good men and having them so protective and near made her feel more worthy and special than she could express. If she did try to explain, they would probably end up going overboard in their attempts to make her feel even better. The thought made her smile.

Spending time in the hospital was rough on them, she knew that from their time in San Antonio. They were such troopers. But before she could ponder it more and feel too sorry for them, her stomach growled fiercely. She tiptoed past all three, Michael letting out a snore as she left the room.

The ever-present scent of baking brought her to Mary's kitchen. Even though they hadn't shared a meal since the night she arrived, she didn't doubt her welcome. The scene that greeted her was one she dreamt of having. Paul was at the stove looking toward the sink where Thomas held Mary, hugging her as she washed strawberries. Duane was setting the table, eyes also on his wife, with a content, happy smile on his face. It was a normal evening, she thought, made extraordinary by the love that pulsed between them.

"Oh, hi, Poppy,” Thomas greeted. She didn't miss the pat he gave his wife's bottom before he pulled away.

"No entourage?” Paul teased, moving the boiling pot of pasta to a strainer.

"They're all taking a nap,” she answered, crossing her arms over her belly. “Last night was rough on them."

"Hell, it should have been. But they'll learn, honey. Give them some time.” Thomas pulled a chair out for her. “Sit, sit, you're still pale."

"Paul, leave some pasta without sauce,” Duane instructed, setting another place at the table. “Come on, little mama, you can eat supper with us old folks tonight."

Mary insisted on something better than plain noodles, making steamed rice with a delicious ginger sauce in addition to the fresh fruit and vegetables on the table. The older woman took such pleasure in fussing that Poppy couldn't help but enjoy herself as they visited and ate. The medications were doing their job, but the more bland food went down easier than anything spicy would have.

They talked and like their first meeting she was amazed at how normal they were. They liked to laugh and knew what was important in their lives. She respected that, because for too long there was nothing to laugh about in her world and her priorities had been skewed. The Parabys weren't conventional, but they were happy.

Mary cried when Poppy mentioned the baby was actually two and the two were girls. Only hours after the ulcers were diagnosed she felt more comfortable acknowledging the life within her because she was more confident the babies would make it to full term. The men obviously already knew, but were thrilled and she enjoyed watching them watch their wife with such amusement and affection. Mary expressed her joy with abandon, and even Poppy laughed when she jumped up and down.

She had yet to see them look at their wife with less than adoration, even when she knew the older woman was driving them crazy. It must be hereditary because she couldn't remember a time, barring the Trevor incident and she knew that was a fluke, when her men looked at her any differently. After dinner, she offered to help clean, but the men shooed her and Mary off with coffee and cider. They settled in the parents’ living room, a pretty room done in ore reds and mauves. Mary liked red and with her dark hair and eyes, she looked good in it.

"Well, Poppy, it's just us girls.” As Mary pulled matching afghans from beneath the table, she grinned at her stomach. “Girls! Have I told you how thrilled I am that you're here? It's not just having another woman in the house, but having the right woman that is so nice. And not just the babies either, though I'm ecstatic about them. You make my boys happy, and I want to help however I can so you can be happy here as well."

"Thank you. That means a lot.” Wrapped in a blanket, sipping cider she settled in, a new ease growing between her and Mary. “You have a gorgeous home."

"It took years to get here. When I married Paul, we were in this same spot but in a line cabin complete with an open floor plan and outhouse. I helped him with the ranch while Thomas finished law school. Now their mother, she was a terror. She adored her boys, but always tried to fix Thomas up with other women.

"I know you don't know Thomas well, but he's got a problem saying ‘no’ and it was even worse with his mother. He finally set her straight, and to my everlasting torture, he told her why. She made my life hell until she died, oh almost twenty years ago, but she was a good grandma to Michael and Trevor. Not so much Cody, but I think that's because she was sure he was Duane's for some reason."

"I'd say Trevor would be Duane's,” Poppy mused.

"Yeah, I've always thought so too. They have the same noses and build.” Mary's overextended nod showed her discomfort, and Poppy wasn't sure what was changing to make her uncomfortable.

She watched as the older woman fidgeted a moment and the comfortable feeling she'd been enjoying ebbed more. She hadn't spoken much with her lovers’ mother and though there was no tension between them Poppy was always ready for the turning point. If Mary didn't like her and told the boys, it would hurt the family. She hoped it never became an issue, because she liked their mother. Strength and humor followed her every move and Poppy thought she could learn from her.

"I know you're having health issues on top of everything here, so I want you to talk to me about anything you need,” Mary said and held up her hand though Poppy made no move to interrupt. “You're an educated woman and I'm not, but I'm a good listener and I might have some advice you could use."

"You've raised three wonderful men, and are genuinely thoughtful and kind. I don't think education level matters when you have that.” When Mary beamed she knew it was the right thing to say and opened up the questions she'd been dying to ask for weeks. “I do wonder though, how you ended up in a situation like this."

"With three men who adore me?"

Poppy nodded.

"Well, first off, I was raised in a plural marriage, three mamas and one father. They were an off branch of the Salt Lake Mormon community. It was a sheltered, wholesome life. Good schools, plenty to eat, a nice house. We went to church three days a week, and I figured I'd find a nice young man and start a family eventually. After I finished eighth grade, my father pulled me out of school and told me he was giving me to someone else who could finish my divine schooling.

"Turned out this magical teacher was his friend. I grew up with his kids and called him my uncle and his wives were my aunts. My mother didn't like the match either. We went wedding shopping, and Mama called her sister to come get me. Mama loved me, but I had little brothers at home she had to stay with. The life was what she chose, but she didn't want me pushed into it.

"Anyway, I ended up on my aunt Marcy's farm. I loved her very much, but she was more of a friend than a mother figure. She was an old maid and grew lots of vegetables for her roadside stand. I was happy to help her. That's how I met Thomas."

Mary's eyes lit with the memory. Poppy wondered how much she would learn about the complex couple. Already she understood better the building blocks that led to the acceptance of the strange relationship.

"He attended school in Denver. Found us by mistake one day when he was wandering in his truck and after that he stopped by every day. He bought the broccoli in August and stuck around until the last winter melon was sold. We'd spend hours just visiting. He told me about his life and asked about mine.

"I was nearly eighteen and I'd dated some, so I was no prude. It was the sixties after all, and even good girls had fun. We fogged up the windows in his truck all hours of the night when he wasn't studying,” Mary said with a naughty smile.

She laughed, and Poppy could see exactly why young Thomas had fallen in love her. She sparkled in her love of life in a way not many women did. Taking pleasure in little things wasn't always easy, but Mary did and found the happiness Poppy wanted. She had guts; surviving cancer proved that, brazening through a challenging relationship and making it last lovingly took even more.

"There was a twin and a cousin Thomas always talked about. He missed those two, and his mother, but I did my best to comfort him.” Again the expression on her face was slightly wicked. “I didn't see him much in the winter because of the weather and college, but we met up for movies now and then. We were having fun, but part of me knew it would end when he went home.

"He showed up with Paul beside him after we finished planting that spring. Marcy was in Denver with some girlfriends, so it was just me. Imagine my surprise when along came identically dressed, gorgeous men. They didn't talk and their expressions were exactly the same, exactly, and damned if I could tell who was who. When Thomas, I thought he was Thomas, kissed me, I kissed him back and I enjoyed it."

"It was Paul."

"It sure was. I was, as Trevor would say, ‘freaked out’ at the revelation. I responded instantly and even knowing he wasn't the man I cared about, didn't stop me from wanting to kiss him while I still wanted Thomas. It got so confusing. Like I said, I grew up in a plural marriage but had only seen the reversal, lots of wives. So two men was pretty out there, and brothers? I wasn't that kind of girl,” Mary explained. “At first I thought it was a test, you know? I thought he would be angry because I wasn't able to distinguish between them. I was wrong."

Poppy's laughter joined with Mary's at the singsong admission.

"That first conversation was awkward. They spent the night trying to convince me to go to Montana and give a relationship a chance. Part of me wanted to go with them, even that first night, but I couldn't. I couldn't get my head around the concept, let alone practical practice, of being in love with brothers. I never understood how my mother tolerated sharing, and I couldn't see how it would work with Thomas and Paul either. I said no. Thomas went back to Montana to start law school, Paul headed back to the ranch, and I stayed where I was, heartbroken and confused."

"Obviously you guys figured it out.” Poppy hated to interrupt but Mary took a long moment to collect her thoughts and the suspense was killing her.