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Therewas a pause on the other end.Poppyhad never been one for small talk. “Fine.”
“That’sgood.”
Itried to fill the silence by asking how orientation went.Poppyanswered in a clipped tone, like always, butIdidn’t let it deter me.Nottoday.Icontinued to prod, asking about various topics until we landed on her remote internship withAmbaniCorp.
Ihad been so resentful ofJay’scompany thatInever brought up the company unless forced to.WhileIkept up the front of a dutiful wife,Ihated discussing company business in the privacy of our home.
Iwas starting to realize this approach didn’t suitPoppy.Sheconsidered me unsupportive of her dreams becauseIrefused to discuss the company outside those perimeters.
“Howis the internship going?”
Poppy’ssurprise was warranted, andIheard the restraint in her voice as she said, “It’sfine.Itcan be time-consuming,Iguess.”
Myprevious inclination would have been to suggest dropping the internship if it was time-consuming.Afterspeaking withAxel,Irealized how detrimental the suggestion would sound toPoppy.Itwould seem as ifIdidn’t believe in her abilities.Forthe first time,Itried a different approach.
“Ohyeah?Whatdo you have to do for the internship.”
Takenaback, it tookPoppyseveral seconds to respond. “Theyusually send me companies to research.Ican do it remotely, but finding details and why they are a good fit for investments can take time.”
Itwas the first timeIhad taken an interest inherinterest, and it was working.Thesewere the most wordsPoppyhad spoken without sarcasm.Whyhadn’tIthought of it before?
Grabbingthe opportunity by the horn,Iasked another follow-up question.Tomy surprise,Poppyresponded.Witheach questionIasked,Poppyanswered in slightly more detail than the last response.Bythe timeIasked the seventh question,Irealized this was the most my daughter had opened up in almost a year.
“I’mproud of you,”Isaid truthfully whenPoppytold me about applying forAmbaniCorp’supcoming company-wide junior competition.
Poppywas silent on the other end before saying, “Thankyou.”
Iwas floored by the genuineness in her voice.Ihad never been supportive of my daughter’s ambitions and understanding ultimately dawned on me that rather than protecting her, it had made her feel howMomused to make me feel.MaybeMom’sintentions weren’t unfounded, either, just misunderstood.PerhapsIowed my mother a call as well.
Imentally scoffed.Axelhad unknowingly fixed three generations worth of mother-daughter relationships.
“Itold the school lab about the brain scan forMr.Trimalchiotomorrow,”Poppysaid out of nowhere. “Ifyou aren’t doing anything… you should come by and watch.Wecan have lunch afterward.”
Oh.My.God.
Iwas always the one making plans, askingPoppyif she wanted to grab lunch, or forcing my way into her life when she refused.Mydaughter hadn’t initiated one activity with me in almost one year.Thismight seem trivial, but only someone with a preteen knew how crucial this moment was; the moment your daughter stopped giving you the evil eye and returned your affections.
Okay, affections might be a stretch forPoppy; however, beggars couldn’t be choosers.
Becool,Piya, be cool.Don’tblow this by coming off too strong.
“Sure, whatever,”Isaid, feigning as if it didn’t matter one way or the other.Internally,Iwas dying of glee and went to great lengths to suppress my excitement.
“Okay.I’llsee you then.”
“Seeyou then.”Ihesitated for another moment before going in for the kill. “Ilove you.”
Poppyusually saidokaywheneverItold her thatIloved her.So, imagine my surprise whenIheard a soft-barely-there ‘love ya too’before the phone disconnected.
Thephone would have dropped to the floor hadInot been clutching it with an iron grip.Holyshit.Didthat just happen?
Amixture of emotions flooded through me.Ofall the waysIexpected the conversation to go, that wasn’t howIthought it’d end.Poppyhadn’t said she loved me in almost a year.Sadness, happiness, trepidation, it all mixed together, andIhadAxelto thank for this moment.Imight forgive the bastard for all his assholery just for giving me this one moment withPoppy.
Loveya too.
Ireplayed the words in my head over and over, wondering if she’d say it again tomorrow.
Myelation was difficult to suppress andIpractically skipped back to the other side of the room, feeling high on nonexistent drugs.SinceAxelwas still engrossed in the manila folders,Iused the time to slip on my shoes and admire the view from the bay window.Thescene outside was of an idyllic beach with white sand and pristine water.Thesight seemed familiar, althoughIcouldn’t place it.Oncemore, my gaze was drawn to the barely visible green light at the far end of the beach dock.Itwas microscopic from this distance, soIstepped closer for a better look.
