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“A little to the left. No, right. Perfect.” Jessica was installed in the rocker in the soon-to-be nursery, feet up on an ottoman, pillows behind her, giant mugs of ice water and herbal tea next to her, crochet project in her lap. She’d messaged because her sister had taken the girls to the zoo in Portland for the day, and Jessica wanted out of her bed and to put the finishing touches on the nursery. “Thank you, Knox. You’re the best.”
“I try.” I stepped away from the wall of nursery rhyme prints. I’d happily agreed to stop by after working on the kitchen remodel for Frank and Leon, both to keep Jessica off her feet and as an excuse to stay away from Monroe and the house that much longer. The sun was starting to fade, and my dad would be home soon, but I kept finding more reasons to linger.
“Are you okay?” Jessica tilted her head, studying me in the way all school counselors had, peering deep into my eyes, seeing every transgression and making me squirm.
“I’m fine.” My tone was too sharp to be believable.
Predictably, Jessica sighed like my lack of honesty was a personal disappointment. “I know I’m not your mom, but you can talk to me.”
“What do you mean?” Frowning, I crossed the room to crouch by her rocker. “Of course you’re my mom. My second mom, and then Candace is mom three. I’m blessed with all the moms.”
“Yes, yes, you are.” Jessica’s eyes got misty. “And thank you for saying that. But I mean it. You could tell me anything. Even confidential stuff.”
“I know. You’re a great listener. It’s why your students and the rest of us love you so much.” I patted her arm. “And you’re an even better mom.”
“Aww. Now you’re gonna make me cry.” She waved her other hand in front of her face, yarn flapping from her crochet hook.
“You’re nine hundred months pregnant.” Chuckling, I rescued the crochet project before it could go flying. “Everything makes you cry.”
“True.” She laughed along with me.
“And you are a good mom. I saw you with Poppy yesterday, letting her wear your heels and that fancy wig.” When I’d stopped by the day before, Poppy had greeted me in a platinum wig, tiara, magic wand, nightgown, and two of Jessica’s favorite designer heels. She’d declared herself Empress Poppy of Poppy Land and needed me to say the magic word before escorting her to her royal throne in the backyard.
“We just have to let Poppy be Poppy.” Jessica gave a fond shrug. “I don’t even try to control it anymore. Parent the kid you are given, not the kid you might wish they were.”
“Wow.” I sank down from my crouch to sit on the floor. That was it. For years, I’d tried to live up to the kid my dad seemed to wish I was, but Jessica was right. I was simply Knox, exactly how Poppy was Poppy, and we all loved her for it, and not one of us was disappointed and wanted Poppy to be more like Iris or Lily or some other kid. We loved Poppy, not the idea of who she should be. And it was long past time I gave myself the same grace.
“What?” Jessica looked mildly alarmed, enough to shift in the rocker, round belly moving, a reminder that this next kid would also be loved by all of us for whomever they were.
“I’m okay.” I patted Jessica’s knee, which was covered by her long blue maternity dress. “I mean it. I’m really, really okay. I’m not a disappointment.”
And, of course, my dad chose that moment to come in, uniform on, hearty grin in place, with absolutely zero ability to read the room.
“Of course you’re not a disappointment. You’re a star student.”
“Rob…” Jessica made a warning noise, one that emphasized her Australian accent. As usual, she’d heard far more than my words.
“What? I’m only saying the truth. He graduated top of his art class and got into—”
“I’m not going,” I interrupted before he could rattle off my whole list of accomplishments.
“What? Don’t be silly. You’re going. We’ll be fine here. The baby will be here any time now. You’ll have a chance to meet it before you leave.”
“It’s not about waiting for the baby. I’m going to take over Frank and Leon’s business. That’s what I really truly want to do with my life.” I tried to channel the passion and conviction I’d had when I talked to Monroe or my other friends, along with the certainty Jessica had shown a few minutes ago. This would be okay. It had to be. I’d waited too damn long to be honest with my dad. And myself too. “I want to stay here, run the business, make a difference in the community, maybe sponsor a tee ball team when the girls are older.”
