I open my mouth to explain, but dread knots in my stomach as I wonder what she’ll do if she doesn’t like my answer. Will she try to take Poppy from me?
“Adele,” Gabby says quietly, “all of the roommates took paternity tests. Just to be positive. You can rest assured that Rider is the father, and he’s done a damn good job of taking care of Poppy if you ask me.”
Mrs. Hildebrand’s frown smooths out slightly, but then she spears me with another razor-sharp gaze. “Young man, if I get any indication that you’re not caring for Poppy properly, I will take you to court for custody. Do you hear me?”
The tone of her voice is like déjà vu. It’s how most of my teachers in Mortimer talked to me. As the son of Hank Kingston, the resident derelict and town drunk, I triggered everyone’s suspicion through my very existence.
Through clenched teeth, I say, “No offense, ma’am, but I’m not the one who abandoned my baby in the middle of a football party full of strangers and took off to harvest pot on the other side of the country. If you have a bone to pick with someone about neglecting Poppy, I believe your anger is misplaced.”
Her knuckles tighten in her lap. I daresay the old bird wants to kick my ass. That’s fine. I’m not too fond of her at the moment either.
And what the fuck was Cricket thinking? Anything could’ve happened to Poppy that night. We’re lucky as hell Gabby found her.
Gabby scoots to the edge of her seat. “Adele, I’m curious why you waited all this time to approach Rider.”
Boom. Good fucking question.
I cross my arms over my chest as she hums and haws and finally admits she wasn’t sure which one of us was Poppy’s father.
“Cricket never gave me many details. You see, it wasn’t until I saw you on the news the other day and they showed a photo of you carrying Poppy with that little pink hat I crocheted that I put the pieces of the puzzle together.”
That fucking press conference.
She sniffs again. “When can I see my great-granddaughter again?”
At least she’s asking.
I nod and take a breath to calm down. Trying to consider this from her perspective, I go with the most flexible response I can manage. “Whenever you want. I have a crazy week because the last game of the season is coming up and finals are around the corner, but if you don’t mind squeezing in a visit during my lunch break or study time, we’re always happy to have you.”
Judging by Gabby’s wide smile, that was the correct response. She pats Mrs. H’s hand. “Let’s swap numbers so you two can reach each other.”
And then, thank Christ, that woman finally leaves.
55
GABBY
Poppy sits on my lap,and we watch Rider pace from one end of his living room to the other and back again.
We’re alone now. The house is quiet, eerily so considering several of his roommates are home, but everyone seems to know today rocked Rider.
After a few more minutes, I can’t stand the silence any longer. “Are you okay?”
He jabs his hands into his hair, his eyes wide. “No, I’m far from being okay right now.”
“Well, just stay calm. Adele looked appeased by you offering to let her see Poppy anytime she wanted. That was really nice of you, by the way.”
“Did I have a choice?”
The veins in his neck are all sticking up and pulsing like he’s run a marathon. That can’t be good.
“Of course you did. You could’ve been a dick and told her she’d have to go to court to get any time with the baby.”
“Like I have the money to fight her in court right now. And that’s what scares the shit out of me. What if she decides my punk ass shouldn’t have Poppy? Will she try to take her from me?”
The desperate look in his eyes tears at my heart. “I don’t think she will. Adele’s bark is bigger than her bite. Deep down, she’s a big softie.”
He doesn’t look convinced, but at least he stops pacing.
