Wrapped Up In A Weeping Willow

by Tonya Kappes

  She parked the Mustang in the parking lot and put the car in park. She sat staring straight ahead, looking at the one-story nursing home. Her fingers tensed in her lap as she thought about what the Coach was going through.

  “I pray the good Lord take me if I ever have to come here.” She clearly remembered the Coach telling her how he never wanted to be put in a home after they would take the baseball team to visit with the elderly or the many times they went over to trick or treat and even visit during Sunday school to sing for them. “I couldn’t imagine never being able to take care of myself or have your mama and daddy take care of me.”

  Poppy would wrap her little fingers around his, look up at him, and in her little girl voice say, “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.”

  The Coach was big on the team doing volunteer work around Hudson Hollow. “You can support the town that comes out to support you,” the Coach would tell the boys when they would complain about going to Sunshine.

  Never in a million years did she imagine those words would come back to haunt her. The Coach was always so strong, fit, and smart.

  The phone rang from her pocket, bringing her out of her thoughts. When she saw the number belonged to Sid, she groaned inwardly, mad at herself for not using *67 to block her number.

  In true Sidney Delaney fashion, Poppy was certain the call would be begging Poppy to come back to talk it out. Not go back to Rob but to figure out a way to save her radio personality career, a career Poppy wasn’t so sure she wanted anymore.

  The slow life she’d been living the past couple of days was starting to grow on her. Her stress level was down, even though she was in a shitload of trouble. She was actually sleeping at night. Before this, she couldn’t even recall the last time she’d slept through the night.

  “Wake up, wake up, you sleepy head. Get up, get up, get out of bed,” the Coach would sing to wake her up in the morning when she’d spend the night at the farm. “Good country air is what makes you sleep so good,” the Coach would say and suck in a deep breath for dramatic effect.

  Poppy had hung on his every word.

  “I will take care of you,” she said firmly, letting the call go to the voice mail she hadn’t set up. She put the phone in the passenger seat. She didn’t want Sid to keep calling while she was spending precious time with the Coach. And if she knew Sid, her phone would be ringing off the hook.

  “Glad to see you back.” The woman who had greeted Poppy the last time she was there smiled from behind the sliding glass. “I’m sure the Coach will be happy to see you.”

  “I heard he slept through the night.” Poppy signed her name on the visitor sheet and peeled a visitor sticker off the roll, sticking it to her shirt.

  “He did.” She nodded and smiled. “Today he’s doing pretty good.”

  It was the best news Poppy had heard all morning. She didn’t waste any more time with the woman. She went directly to the Coach’s room.

  “There’s my Poppy seed!” The Coach was standing in the hallway with a group of other elderly men. One was in a wheelchair, one had a walker, and the other had a cane. The Coach was the only one who didn’t need assistance to walk.

  “I was just telling the guys about how I heard my pride and joy on the radio this morning.” His words were just as comforting as the hug. She squeezed extra tight, holding the position a little longer than usual, not sure how many more times she’d have these moments with him.

  “I love you,” Poppy whispered in his ear.

  “Boys, excuse us.” He slid his hand down Poppy’s arm and held her hand. “What’s wrong with you?” he asked, taking the lead down the hallway. “This?”

  He stopped and looked at her. His eyes were hollow and that scared her. For the first time, he actually looked sick, thin, and almost frail to her. She swallowed hard to keep back the tears. She didn’t want him to see her upset.

  In her heart, she knew that in the few days she’d been there, Hudson Hollow had stripped away the hard shell the outside world had given her.

  “You are my granddaughter, which means you’re tougher than a pine knot.” His head dipped and he looked under his brows at her. “This here is just a little setback. Once my good kidney clears, I’ll be out of here.”

  She smiled. There was no sense in telling him any different. He wasn’t as confused as yesterday. He remembered who she was and today that was enough for her.

  “That’s my Poppy seed.” He lifted her chin with his finger and took a good look into her eyes. “You look hungry. Let’s go have some lunch.”

  “I’m starving.” Poppy knew she’d made plans to meet Aunt Pris in a couple of hours, but she wasn’t about to give up a date with the Coach. “I’ve got an hour or so, then I have to get back to the farm.”

  “You been working in my garden?” The Coach peeped up when he heard she was staying there.

  “I have.” She placed her hand in the crock of his elbow, letting him take the lead. “I even mowed the lawn.”

  “Why on earth didn’t Brett do that?” the Coach asked. “He’s been doing it since y’all started dating.”

  Poppy laughed. The Coach was right. Brett showed up once a week to mow the yard and bush hog the field. It was Brett’s way of spending more time with Poppy.

  “We haven’t dated in ten years,” Poppy corrected him.

  “What?” The Coach stopped and looked at her. His brows furrowed, his mouth slightly opened, his head tilted to the side.

  “Papaw, remember I got married.” Poppy felt like this was a big milestone she needed to remind him of.

  “Oh, yes. You were so beautiful.” A smile crossed his lips. “I couldn’t be more pleased to have Brett in the family. He is good to you.” Clearly he didn’t remember Poppy and Rob’s wedding.

  She didn’t correct him. What was the point? She was going to get a divorce anyway.

  “You know…” The Coach’s head bobbled up and down. His eyes squinted. “I knew you were going to marry that boy the first time he showed up in Hudson Hollow. You see, your eyes are the window to your soul, and your eyes said he was the one.”

  Poppy inhaled through her nose and slowly exhaled out of her mouth.

  “He is a great man,” Poppy managed to reply with a stiff lip to keep from crying. It was her turn to be strong for him.

  Somewhere between talking to Sid and telling her where to go, spending as much time as she could with the Coach, and making plans to meet Aunt Pris, she’d decided that she was going to open her heart up to Hudson Hollow. That included Brett.

  “Say,” she asked as they walked into the dining hall, “where is that box with the family fried chicken recipe?”

  “It’s in the closet in my bedroom.” He patted her arm. “I keep it there because I don’t want no one stealing it.”

  “Do you mind if I get it out and make the fried chicken recipe?” she asked, knowing it was Brett’s favorite meal at the Coach’s.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  “Bluegrass Vet Clinic,” Brett answered. Poppy’s heart took a dip when she heard his voice, deep and sensual, sending a ripple of awareness through her.

  “Brett, it’s Poppy.” She cleared her throat and prepared herself for a letdown.

  “So this is the number of that fancy flip phone.” There was a slight tinge of wonder in his voice.

  “It is.” She laughed. He had a way of putting things and she missed that. “I just wanted to thank you for calling in this morning.” Here goes nothing, she thought. “I wanted to know if you wanted to come over for supper.”

  “Why, Poppy Bailey, are you asking me out on a date?” He was toying with her. “You married and all.”

  She sat silent for a second, not sure how to respond.

  “Kidding.” Brett’s voice broke the tension. “Of course I want to come for supper. But I have Sadie. I try not to leave her with Mama too much, though they both would prefer it.”

  “Bring her!” Poppy got a little excited. “Maybe we can fish. J
ug fish!”

  He sighed gustily and said, “But jug fishing requires an overnight and I’m not that kinda guy. Especially not on a first date.”

  Poppy was enjoying this back-and-forth banter. Something she needed before she walked into the Sleeping Bee and asked for help in divorcing her husband and her agent.

  “My, my. Look at you, Brett Barrett. Still so sure of yourself.”

  “You know I’m a sure thing, Poppy Bailey.”

  She inhaled sharply as her heartbeat skyrocketed.

  “You there?” he asked.

  “I am.” Poppy smiled, glad he couldn’t see through the phone. “Be there about seven. I have to stop by Elizabeth’s house to check out her wedding gifts and go by the store. So bring an empty belly.”

  “Can I bring some wine?” he asked.

  “Wine?” She laughed. His days of sucking back a few beers must be long gone.

  “Okay. Bourbon?” he asked. “I’ve got the good stuff.”

  “I’ll supply the Coke and glasses.” She could feel herself blush, as though she was the teenager who had seen him on his first day of school.

  “See you at seven.” His voice faded. “It might sound stupid, but I don’t want to get off the phone. I want to see you now.”

  “I . . .” Poppy wanted to tell him that she was sitting in front of the Sleeping Bee Café, fully prepared to proceed with divorce papers, but she wanted to see his face when she told him that. Not that she expected him to pick up where they left off. She was well aware of how she’d hurt him.

  “I’m sorry. It’s just that having you here in Hudson Hollow feels right. Feels like the piece of my life that had been missing is suddenly filled when I’m looking at you.” Poppy closed her eyes as his words filled her soul. In all the years she was married to Rob, he’d never said anything remotely like that. “I’ll see you tonight.”

  He didn’t give her a chance to respond. Hopefully her home-cooked fried chicken would show him how much he meant to her. And what he meant to her.

  “Poppy seed, the way to a man’s heart is this here fried chicken recipe.” The Coach had held the yellowed card up every time he took it out of the metal recipe box.

  Poppy loved that little metal box. The red paint on the rooster was chipping off the front and she would handle it carefully, like it was a fine piece of china. Somehow she knew the box was special.

  The Sleeping Bee was anything but sleeping. The small brick café was a staple to downtown and home to many lawyers and their clients, along with Poppy’s parents’ clients.

  “Most deals are made over a good glass of sweet tea.” Mary Louise, along with most southern folks, believed sweet tea and good comfort food were a good icebreaker to any deal and to help soften the client. Mary Louise wasn’t above bribing the clients with the homemade chocolate chip cookies she’d bake in the stove of a listing home she was trying to sell or rent.

  The café was full. The flap of the brown and yellow awning with the bee logo and the name of the café flapped over Poppy’s head when she opened the door. There had been a hostess stand added as soon as you walked in since Poppy had been there. The café had two-top, four-top, and family-style tables scattered on each side of the hostess desk and behind it.

  In the back corner was a half square counter with a big chalkboard painted on the wall, listing the daily specials. They had even added a fancy coffee machine and press. The counter had a total of ten stools and all of them were filled.

  “Can I help you?” The hostess smiled, her pen in hand to write down Poppy’s name.

  “I’m here to meet my aunt, but I don’t see her.” Poppy glanced around the room one more time.

  “What is her name?” the hostess asked.

  “Pris . . .” Poppy turned back to the hostess.

  “Judge Pris?” The hostess continued to smile. “She’s seated in the back. Follow me.”

  Poppy followed the hostess down the hallway, going past the counter. She couldn’t help but notice all the black-and-white photos in black frames hung on the hall wall. Especially the one with a very young and handsome Coach leaning up against the old Caddy with his arms crossed and a big smile on his face. In another frame, next to the one with the Coach, was a photo of Bunny Brewster, waving behind the window to all the men standing on the sidewalk waving back, as if she was just waving to one of them.

  “Poppy!” Aunt Pris called from one of the umbrella tables on the outside patio.

  “Thank you.” Poppy nodded to the hostess. “I can go from here.”

  Aunt Pris and Poppy had a quick hug and smile before they sat down. Pris didn’t waste any time. She pulled a stack of manila envelopes from her black leather briefcase.

  “Here is the deal.” Pris smacked her hand on the top file. “I’m going to take on your case. I know it’s uncommon for a judge to leave the bench.”

  “No. I cannot have you do this.” Poppy already knew what her aunt was going to say.

  Pris put her hand up in the air to stop Poppy from talking.

  “I have gone over and over your prenuptial agreement. I’m your only shot at getting you out of these charges. If we even have a shot.” Her voice was resigned and sent chills up Poppy’s spine. She looked away when she saw the darkness in her aunt’s eyes. “You have several charges against you that will put you behind bars for a long time. In the least, I could probably get a lighter sentence. I know he won’t take a plea deal and there is a warrant out for your arrest. I’m assuming you haven’t had any contact with your agent or Rob?”

  Pris set back and let the waitress fill the water cups and place two Mason jars of iced tea on the table, along with a small pitcher for refills. In that short time, Poppy was able to process the severity of the charges.

  “Not Rob.” Poppy shook her head and tried to steady her shaking hand when she went to reach for the glass of tea. “I did call my agent, who told me I had to be a good girl and go back to Rob in order to get the charges dropped. Plus she said it would be good for my career.”

  “And?” Aunt Pris’s eyes popped open. “Is that a possibility?”

  “God no.” Poppy gasped and leaned forward. “I don’t ever want to see his face again.”

  “You are going to have to if I can’t get you out of these charges.” Pris took a nice long drink of the sweet tea. “I’ve got Judge Bach coming out of retirement to take over for the next few weeks until I can get a handle on what is going on and see if we can’t settle this out of court.”

  “Out of court and jail time?” Poppy asked. She’d seen Orange Is the New Black and no way could she survive prison.

  “I’m not promising anything. But by the looks of the arson reports, you left no room for speculation that it might have been an unintentionally set fire. Plus he has the tapes of your show after you lost your ever-loving mind, where you tell the world you set the house on fire and other things no southern woman should have told the world.”

  Poppy bit her lip. She felt the tears swelling up in her chest, and it wouldn’t be long until they made their way to her eyes.

  “And you are definitely done with Harper Ellington.” Pris’s brows lifted. “Now, this little stint as Poppy Bailey at HH FM is probably not a good idea, but you look better today than you have in the past few.”

  Poppy wanted to tell her it was because she was back on the air at HH FM, but truth be told, it was Brett who was not far from her mind. Even thinking about him made her smile.

  “I can’t pay you.” Humiliation crept up on Poppy’s face.

  “I know that.” Pris reached over and patted Poppy’s hand. “I don’t have children. I have all the money saved up and even with my salary freeze from the bench, I could take off a few years and be fine.”

  “Are you sure?” Poppy asked.

  “For my favorite niece, anything.” Pris drew her hand back and opened the top manila envelope.

  “I’m your only niece.” When Poppy was a child, she’d loved how Aunt Pris would always call Popp
y her favorite niece until the day she realized Pris didn’t have any others.

  “Semantics.” Pris grinned and pulled out a piece of paper, sliding it in front of Poppy. “Here is your financial statement with your income. Nowhere in the prenuptial agreement did you say that your money was your money or your money was his money. Only his money was his money and the house belongs to him.”

  “So that means I can get some of my money?” Poppy asked. Suddenly she had a little thought of things looking up.

  “Not so fast,” Pris warned, and she put a stack of copied receipts in front of Poppy. “This is just the past year, where he said you spent all your money and then dipped into his. And all cash, so we can’t trace them back to a credit card.” Pris’s brows lifted.

  “Shit.” Poppy’s looking-up feeling suddenly sank back into her gut. “I can tell you that he bought all of these. He gave me this tennis bracelet for my birthday.” Poppy pushed the eight-thousand-dollar receipt back to her aunt.

  “We can’t prove it if it was cash.” Pris shook her head. “He was so damn sneaky. I guarantee he knew that eventually you were going to catch him with his pants down and he was smart enough to know how to make it look like you spent all your money so you couldn’t get your hands on his because of the prenup.”

  “Tell me about it.” Poppy swallowed. “I can’t believe he ever kept my parents from me. And Brett.” The thought of what Rob did to Brett put a lump in her throat.

  She recalled the conversation she’d had with Brett on the dock before the kiss.

  “What do you mean?” Pris sat up and took more interest than Poppy seemed to think the information was worth.

  “He would intercept all my parents’ phone calls, telling them I was too busy to talk to them. At least that is what they told me. And before we got married, he found Brett and in a roundabout way told him to get lost out of my life forever. Kinda what he did with all the people I love.”