with in Valmont. Not as clean, for one thing, but that’s hardly a surprise since the owner spends most of her time at the original location. But the menu hanging above the counter is the same as well as the purple, high-back booths, and black and white tiled floor. For the first time, since I landed in Nashville, it feels like I’ve come home. Movement catches my eye, and I turn to see Poppy flagging me with a grin, her long arm waving me toward a booth in the corner.
She looks exactly the same as the last time I saw her. She’s traded summer sun dresses for jeans and a sweater more fitting the cooler December temperatures, but it’s the same smile, the same hair, the same warm, friendly eyes. It should be comforting. Instead, I feel a million miles away from her.
“You look wonderful,” she says, bouncing up to give me a hug.
The truth is that I’m still holding on to at least forty pounds of baby weight. That’s probably a generous underestimate for my own sanity. It hasn’t occurred to me until now that she’ll notice. Will she wonder why? I run a hand over my less-than-flat stomach, smoothing my shirt, self-consciously before I sit across from her.
“I already ordered enough to feed an army! So I hope you’re hungry.”
“Great,” I lie. There’s no way I’ll be able to eat a bite, even after I tell her the truth.
“Couldn’t stay away for Christmas?” she guesses, filling in the awkward silence between us.
“I guess not,” I force myself to say.
“I can’t blame you,” she says, continuing to do the heavy lifting of small talk. “I’d want to come meet my new niece, too.”
“New niece…” I repeat with a slight shake of the head like a wire’s crossed inside my brain.
“I’ve heard their back with the baby,” Poppy says as though this is obvious. “I mean everyone is talking about the cancelled Christmas party. No one can blame them. Having a baby and half of Valmont in the same house—-even Windfall—is a bit much. Ginny is probably exhausted.”
The room constricts with each word she speaks until I feel like I’m about to implode. The heart I thought I’d left behind beats so rapidly that I can’t bring myself to stop her—to correct her—before my brain begins frantically piecing together what she’s saying.
“Where did you hear they were back with a baby?” I finally manage to ask, hoping news is traveling slowly, hoping that this is all a misunderstanding, hoping that the dread I feel is unwarranted.
“Everyone’s talking about. Probably since no one’s seen them since they arrived,” she says. “Is Ginny a really paranoid mom? Or are you two still on bad terms?”
I’m on my feet before she finishes the last question.
“I have to go,” I blurt out. Only then remembering that I don’t have a car. I whip out my phone and request a ride, trying to swallow against the bile threatening to spill out of me all over the scuffed tile floor.
“What’s wrong?” Poppy says, her eyes wide as if my obvious panic is wearing off on her.
But there’s no time. No time to explain. “I have to go. Why are there no Ubers?”
“I can drive you.” She grabs her purse.
“No, I should…”
A confused employee in a black apron appears with two trays full of food, stepping back before I nearly knock him over in my attempt to run out the door. Poppy yells a thanks and follows after me.
I don’t think I just start heading toward the street, planning to run in the direction I came from, hoping I can remember my way.
“Adair!” Poppy’s frantic cry slices through the air, and I stop instinctively. “What are you doing? Let me drive you.”
I turn to look at her, my teeth sinking into my lower lip and realize she’s my best option. She doesn’t ask any questions until we’re both inside her car.
“Where am I going?” It’s simple. It’s to the point.
“The Half-point Motel. It’s about ten minutes away,” I say, punching it into my phone to get directions. I wait for the questions that I’m sure will follow this information, but she starts driving, even though her brow furrows.
“I’m sorry,” I say, between panicked pants. “I should have told you. We just have to get to her. Maybe it’s all a mistake.”
“Darling, you aren’t making sense,” Poppy says soothingly. “You can explain later. Just try to breathe. We’ll be there soon.”
Poppy’s driving is anxiety-inducing on the best days.