“I want Poppy to come over for dinner,” Becca says.
Poppy’s cheeks flush again.
“We can’t ask strangers over for dinner, Becca.”
“Not a stranger!” Becca’s voice is rising again. “She is mybestfriend.”
“That’s very kind of you to invite me for dinner,” Poppy tells Becca. “I’ve already had dinner, but I’m really glad I got to meet you.”
Poppy reaches into her purse and takes out a card, handing it to Bowie. “Maybe Becca would enjoy coming to one of our activities sometime,” she says.
Bowie barely glances at the card. “She’s very busy.”
Poppy laughs. “It sounds like it. She was telling me about her schedule. Whew!”
“I have time, Dad.”
This time I laugh along with Poppy. Rhodes walks over and puts his arms around my waist.
“What did I miss?” he asks.
“This is Poppy.”
“Nice to meet you,” Rhodes says.
“You too,” Poppy says, smiling at us.
“Poppy and Becca are trying to talk Bowie into some kind of activity,” I say, enjoying the look Bowie shoots my way.
“Oh, what kind of activity?” Rhodes asks.
“I’m an Adaptive Recreation coach for kids at Briar Hill,” she says. “And there are just so many fun things that we do…swimming, track and field, gymnastics, volleyball…flag football.”
“That soundsperfectfor Becca,” Rhodes tells Bowie.
“Perfect!” Becca nods. She pats Poppy’s arm. “I like Poppy.”
“I like you too, Becca,” Poppy says, smiling back. She looks at Bowie. “There’s no pressure at all. But it could be fun. One of the first things Becca said when she introduced herself to me over there,” she points toward the front of the store, “was that she can run faster than you.”
Rhodes cracks up. “She’s got you there. You’re fast, but Becca canrun.”
Becca smiles at Rhodes proudly.
Poppy shrugs. “There you go. Meant to be.” She looks at Becca. “I’m so happy I got to meet you today.” She glances at Bowie and away quickly, the flush on her cheeks deepening. “And your dad.”
Bowie’s expression doesn’t change, but is that a slight flush to his cheeks that I’m seeing as well?
“Hug!” Beccasays.
Bowie’s eyes widen, and Rhodes and I look at each other in surprise. Becca’s incredibly social, but she’s as choosy with her hugs as Bowie is with his smiles.
“I would love a hug,” Poppy says.
They hug and after she walks away, we all stand there watching her go.
“I like her,” I say.
“Me too. I like Poppy,” Becca says.
