Rachel’s eyes go big as saucers, and I’m sure I’m not any better.
“Wait—are you pregnant?” I say.
Color blooms in Poppy’s cheeks as tears fill her eyes.
“Oh…Pop.” Rachel closes a hand around Poppy’s, giving it a squeeze. “It’s Novy’s, isn’t it? Does he know?”
“I…” Poppy sniffles, her pink lips pursed as she tries not to cry.
Rachel is trying to read her. “Wait…it’s not his?”
“Ohmygod. She’s not sure.”
Both women glance over sharply at me.
Fuck. I just said that out loud, didn’t I? I blame the mac and cheese. “You’re not…are you? You’re not sure.”
Slowly, Poppy shakes her head.
“This is a lot of information to digest at the turtle gala,” Rachel says, her dark eyes wide. “Well, are you—I mean—is it two guys on the team?”
Poppy snatches up the wine glass, ready to take another sip, before she gasps and shoves it away. “Oh, for Pete’s sake! No, okay? I don’t know who the father is. And yes, they’re both on the team. And yes, I know I’m a mess. So why don’t you just slap the scarlet ‘A’ on my chest and tie me to the stake already? Because this wanton hussy has two gentleman callers. And you know what? I’m not picking. You didn’t have to pick so why should I?” She snatches up the wine glass again, realizes it’s in her hand and shrieks, shoving it at me. “Gosh darn it!”
My eyes go wide, watching her fall apart as I save the wine glass from her panicked clutches.
“It’s Morrow,” Rachel says. “You’ve started something with Novy and Morrow. Right?”
“Please, Rach, you can’t say anything,” Poppy pleads, taking her hand. “I’m not ready for people to know. I’m not—we’re not like you, okay? We’re—this hasn’t been easy for us the way it seems so easy for you. The boys are—it’s just not easy to fall into something like this…” She falls into silence as Rachel squeezes her hand.
“I won’t say a word, Pop,” she assures her. “It’s not my business. It’s not anyone’s business.”
Poppy sniffs back tears. “I just—god, I never meant for any of this to happen,” she admits. “And now it just keeps happening. Four months ago, I was arguing with Lukas in an Uber. Now I’m meeting him in empty bathrooms at charity events like we’re a pair of horny teenagers. If we’re not screamin’， we’re screwin’， and I don’t know how to stop.”
“And Morrow?” Rachel asks.
Poppy just sighs. “I don’t know how to stop.”
“Geez,” I mutter, taking a sip of Poppy’s wine. “What’s in the water over at that ice rink? First Rach snatching up three in one hand, now you? Should I be worried Ryan is gonna come home with Patty McFlashy Abs next week?”
Before they can reply, Nancy comes hurrying over to the table. “Tess, honey, there’s a slight hiccup for tonight’s beach walk plans.”
“Ugh, don’t tell me.”
“Yup. Rain,” she says with a nod.
I groan. “Damn you, Florida.”
“Doppler says it’s coming in quick,” she adds, flashing me her phone to show me the weather app. “I think we may need to cancel.”
This is a huge bummer. I was really looking forward to treating people to a beach walk out on the sand at night. I loved the image of all of us walking in our fancy duds, heels in hand, pretending to be sea turtles as we noticed the effects of light pollution.
“‘Scuse me,” I say to Rachel and Poppy. The clock never stops, even when there’s salacious gossip to be heard. I step away from the table, Nancy following at my side. “How long is the rain supposed to last?” I ask, moving towards the pair of double doors that lead out to the back deck.
“Hard to say. Maybe an hour? But you know—”
“It’s Florida,” we intone at the same time.
I just sigh, pulling the door open and holding it for her to step through. The chill of the January air actually feels good as it kisses my skin. The wind blows, tugging on the loose tendrils framing my face.
“What if we just went and did it now?” I say, peering out over the railing at the white sand. Not fifty yards away, the ocean rolls in and out. “We could push back Ilmari’s speech until after. Heck, he could even give it down on the beach. That could actually be great.”