I shrug. “Barely. She was rushing to get out of town when it all blew up. She’s got more to worry about, taking care of Noli, and I know that. I just…I wish she were here.”
“Have you told her that?”
“I doubt she wants to come back here now.”
“Maybe not, but you owe it to yourself to be honest. And isn’t that what she’d want from you too? You don’t have anyone to protect in this case, Mack. God knows you deserve to be happy. Tell her the truth about how you feel, and see what happens.”
“Yo, guys.” Holland waves his free hand, grabbing my attention from where he’s standing, dutifully holding the end of the strand of lights above his head, just as I told him to. “I know I have enviable upper body strength, but can we get this show on the road? My rotator cuff hates me, and I kind of need it to be in good condition.”
“Coming.” I finish tacking up the strand I’m working on and jog across the pavilion to Holland, letting Collin’s declaration rattle around my brain.
You deserve to be happy.
It’s like it’s on a ticker tape running across my brain for the rest of the night as we finish setting up.
I spot Rose when she arrives with Mia. The two of them have put together a storybook walk for the kids, so they’re tacking up pages of a picture book all throughout the park.
I don’t know where I stand with Poppy’s sister. I’m assuming she knows about the emails. She hasn’t gone out of her way to avoid me since Poppy left, but she hasn’t been chummy either.
I should wait until Rose separates herself from Mia before I try to talk to her about Poppy, because if Mia overhears me, she’ll report back to Patrick, who will tell Lou, and then I’ll be the laughingstock of my friends, but honestly, I don’t care all that much at this point. I’m going to have to man-up here and take my lumps.
I march over. Rose and Mia see me coming. Mia says something and then walks in the opposite direction. Rose stands up straight from where she’s tapped a stake into the ground, her expression unreadable.
“Rose.” I dip my head. “How’s Noli?”
“Noli will be fine. She’s tough as nails. She’ll recover from this. We’ll make sure of it.”
I nod. “And Poppy?”
The corners of Rose’s mouth lift ever so slightly. “In her element, mothering one of us.”
My throat feels like sandpaper. I swallow. How am I supposed to ask if she’s contemplating coming back, if she’s thought of me, when she’s tied up with important things—like making sure her sister has the support she needs in the wake of an abusive relationship. “That’s good. Good to hear.”
I turn to go, but Rose reaches out a hand.
“Mack, hey, wait.”
I pause, hope soaring up from the ground and filling my lungs.
“For what it’s worth, I wouldn’t hold the emails against you,” Rose says.
I meet her gaze. “And Poppy?”
She looks away and shrugs. “She’ll have to make her own decision.”
My lungs deflate, hope sucked straight out of them and down into the ground like a vacuum. “I understand.”
Rose studies me closely before nodding. “See you tomorrow?”
“I’ll be here.”
The next day unfolds pretty much like it does every year. Party in the Park is a hot, sticky mess of a good time. Kids are screaming. Adults are laughing. Music blares through speakers throughout the day, and the mingling smell of fried food from all the different food trucks permeates the air like potpourri. There are a bunch of teenagers flitting around this year, and all credit goes to Poppy for that.
I do my best to shove down thoughts of her over the course of the day, but it’s nearly impossible when I see her fingerprints on every aspect of the party—not only the scavenger hunt for the teens, but also the wider array of food trucks, the pavilion set up for the Promenade later tonight, and the porta-potties that I helped her coordinate.
Poppy is everywhere except the one place I want her to be—in my arms.
I have lunch with my family and am content to let Holland do most of the talking.
