his daughters close.
Val corrected her daughter. “Hardly, Zoey was in our room for more than her first year. She only moved into your room when I got pregnant with the twins and we had to make space for them.”
The mood cooled and Poppy read between the lines. Whatever the plans for the sleeping arrangements, it stopped mattering a few weeks after the twins were born. They lost both Ed and Al, freeing up space at a helluva price.
“Turner moved into the Venture when he was twenty-four. Not long after Faye was moving too, then Emmie was with us.”
Life moved on. There was something equally encouraging and devastating about that truth.
“You have a wonderful family,” Poppy said, reaching over to put a hand on Val’s on the arm of her chair. “Truly incredible. They do you proud.”
“Yes,” Val said, something discerning in her eye. “They do.”
“Videos!” Charley declared.
Val laughed. “Oh for goodness sakes, girl, any excuse to see yourself on film.”
“I want Poppy to see the one where Turner dives off the boat to save Faye and she kicks him in the head,” Charley said, lunging over to wrap both arms around Poppy. “It’s so funny.”
“Well, you know where everything is, bring it down,” Val said. Charley didn’t need to be told twice and leaped off the couch to run upstairs. “Would you like some coffee, Poppy?”
“Oh, no, you don’t have to trouble yourself,” Poppy said. “And I apologize for the intrusion. I just wanted to make sure Charley got home safe. I didn’t intend to stay.”
“She’s headstrong, my daughter… most of them actually. The girls never had any trouble taking over… Which is maybe why Turner spends so much of his life running around for everyone else. Keeping things together is his burden… One I didn’t want for him.”
The sorrow was difficult to decipher. Val had to miss her own husband. His demise would’ve been a lot to deal with, not only for her heart, but with six kids to care for… alone.
“He loves his sisters very much. All of them… And he loves you too. He wouldn’t trade his life. It isn’t always easy and I think he misses his father every minute, maybe more than he knows, even now… But he doesn’t feel he got dealt a bad deal. It’s his life and he embraces all that it is.”
Maybe she’d said too much. As soon as the words started to come out, Poppy tried to shut them up, but it was too late. Val’s perception, whatever it was, shifted. Right there in front of her eyes, Poppy saw it. Something she’d said or maybe the way she’d said it, spoke to the woman. At least that’s what she judged from witnessing the change.
Val’s discerning gaze narrowed. “You’ve known him two weeks.”
Wondering if she’d overstepped, Poppy wanted to apologize, to backpedal and agree. Val was his mother, of course she knew him better.
“And I would never dream of speaking for him,” she said, inhaling as she thought about their encounter before Charley interrupted them. “He certainly wouldn’t want me to.”
“Don’t jump to that assumption,” Val said as someone came thundering down the stairs. “I understand that’s a bad habit of yours.”
The sly words didn’t filter in until Val was on her feet, heading over to join Charley who was carrying a box of something. Assumptions. Turner had called her on assuming things. Charley never had. So how did Val know about it? Unless… What had Turner been telling his mother about them? About her?
TWENTY-ONE
After watching home movies with Poppy and Charley for a couple of hours, Val went to make dinner. That led to Poppy eating with not only Val and Charley, but Zoey and the twins too. All of them were welcoming. Charley was proud of her sisters, even if she did moan at them for most of the evening.
By the time everyone else was beginning to wind down, she and Charley had to think about work. Charley raced up the stairs to get changed, leaving Poppy alone downstairs. The rest of the family were in the kitchen or sitting on the back porch.
Poppy took one more look at the living room before going outside onto the front porch. Glancing around, she went to sit on the stairs. She needed to breathe for a few seconds and wanted to take in the street, the neighborhood.
Turner had grown up there. Lived his life there. Surrounded by the homes and the people. He’d had holidays in the house, probably decorated