by Alie Garnett
“Now I have to tell all my girls. Oh, and come over around 6 p.m. for supper. I’m sure Lucy and Harper can whip something up by then. Besides, all the girls will want to meet their new niece. And I need to spoil her! I’ve missed so much time with her.” Sera got up and hugged them both, grabbed her baby still sleeping in his seat, and headed down the stairs.
Now everyone would know about her biggest secret. Hopefully, they would be as happy about Poppy as had been about her last secret.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chris held Agatha’s daughter as they walked to her mom’s house at the end of the block. The baby was helping to calm his nerves. He didn’t even know why he was nervous, except for the fact that they might all hate him like Sera did. Taking Agatha’s hand, he squeezed it because she was probably even more nervous than he was.
Agatha’s mom had left the house without saying a word or even looking at him. She had left with an anger he didn’t think Violet’s mom could possess—an anger that he was sure was directed at him.
When Agatha had made it down the stairs, she had said they were going to her mom’s for supper and that everyone knew about him and the baby and the entire story. Which might be more then he knew because he hadn’t pushed her for more information about the baby, and she wasn’t saying anything.
Which meant he had no idea what he was walking into. But to be there for Agatha, he would walk through that door every day of the week.
Walking up the steps, he noticed Violet on an old wooden swing, watching them walk up. “Is that her?” she asked.
Chris decided to let Agatha handle it.
“Yes, Violet. This is Poppy.”
Violet walked over to them and looked at the baby. “She doesn’t look red.”
“What color does she look like?” Agatha asked.
“More purple,” Violet said, still frowning.
“No, she doesn’t. Do you like the name?” Agatha took Poppy from his arms.
“I guess since it is a color. Benji isn’t a color.” The baby grabbed Violet’s hand as if to shake it, causing Violet to finally smile.
“I think I like it too. To be honest, at first, I didn’t. It seemed too happy and vibrant for my daughter, but I’m hoping she’s like you and Mom. All bubbly.” Agatha tickled the girl.
Chris looked at Agatha and realized they had never talked about her daughter’s name or that she hadn’t felt it was fitting for her child. Except Chris knew it was. When Agatha let down her guard, she was just as happy and bubbly as her sister. The prickly, angry woman was just a facade she hid behind.
“I’m not bubbly,” Violet said as she giggled.
“You’re just as bubbly as your mom. I love that about you. Is everyone here?” Agatha looked in the front window, worry back on her face.
“Yes, they were early and were talking about you. I left.” Violet shrugged.
“I should go in there, shouldn’t I?” Agatha asked the girl, as if she was hoping the nine-year-old would tell her to run home.
“Yes, I will stay out here, though,” Violet said.
“I’ll stay with Violet,” Chris said, not wanting Agatha to keep stressing about her sisters. He didn’t want to be the reason for more tension between them. Let them fall in love with Poppy, then he could go in.
“Okay.” Agatha took a deep breath before getting up and taking the baby with her inside.
When the door shut, Chris looked at the little girl and said, “On Friday, you said you wanted a girl cousin, and now you have one.”
“I know, and I thought I would be more excited, but I’m not. Mom told me after school today. Right there.” She pointed to the stoop as if she would remember the moment forever.
“On the step, like how Agatha waits for you?” Chris questioned.
“She should have told me inside. Not outside,” Violet said in anger.
“Why not outside?” he asked in confusion.
“Because when I walk alone from the bus, my friend walks with me, and he heard.” She bit her lip.
Chris didn’t understand why Violet was upset. “I don’t think your friend will care that you have a new cousin.”
“No, he does. Nobody can see him,” Violet confided.
“Have you always known him?” Chris realized that Violet’s friend was invisible, and he wondered if everyone knew. They probably did.
“He used to live in the house with us. Now he only walks me home from the bus. But when Mom told me about Agatha’s baby, he vanished. I was looking for him,” Violet admitted as her eyes swept the street again. She sat down on the step, just like her sister waited for her every day.
“You were looking now? Here? Outside?” He looked out and saw nothing. Chris shook his head. Violet’s friend had to be invisible.
She sighed. “Yes, but I don’t think he wanted Agatha to have a baby.”
“But Agatha can’t see him?” he asked, sitting down on the step with her.
“Sometimes she does, but it makes her sad. Really sad.”
“You can tell when she sees him?”
“Sometimes people don’t see me. I’m ultraviolet then,” Violet confided.
“I know, you told me on Friday.” He chuckled. Chris loved the name she’d given herself and wondered how stealthy she really was.
“I hear things and know things that others don’t,” Violet whispered.
“Like what?”
“I know about Agatha’s baby. Agatha and Mom don’t know I know. But I do,” Violet whispered as she looked behind her to make sure nobody else was around.
Chris smiled at the little girl with the big imagination. “Agatha told your mom today about Poppy, remember?”
“Not Poppy, Jet. He was born the same day as me, but he died. But he’s my friend.” Violet looked down at the street as if trying to see her friend.
Leaning back, he looked down at the street to see if he could see Agatha’s lost baby waiting for Violet. “I think we have to go inside now. Maybe they’re eating already.”
“I will introduce you to everyone, but they don’t like you,” Violet confided.
“Why not?” He already knew that they didn’t, but it eluded him what he had done to deserve it.
“Because you will make Agatha sad, just like before.” At his stunned expression, she said, “I’m ultraviolet, remember?” She led him into the room full of people who already didn’t like him because they thought he had hurt Agatha before and would hurt her again.
Chris was happy that Violet was willing to introduce him to her family because Agatha was busy getting drilled by her sisters about the baby. Not that he was going to remember anyone he had just met since the names and faces were a blur. Even meeting Agatha’s sisters was confusing. Nobody looked like Agatha, and none were too happy with him being there.
While two of Agatha’s sisters cooked dinner in the kitchen, Chris sat in the living room with Harrison and Jonas. Harrison, he knew, and Jonas he learned was married to Agatha’s baby sister, Buzz. They were talking politics, and he was content to just listen to the conversations swirling around him. He did notice that while two of the other men in the family referred to her as Agatha, Buzz and a twin called her Ag. It seemed she was right; only her sisters used the nickname.
“So Agatha has been hiding quite a bit lately. You in particular,” Jonas said to him.
“I wouldn’t call it hiding; I would call it not sharing right away, letting us have time to get to know each other better.” Chris looked around room to see if Agatha was paying attention.
“It was hiding, Chris, Agatha is a clever little secret keeper.” Cliff sat forward a little and went on, “So football. My wife says you were good, and my wife is always right.”
“Yes, NFL for a year, then blew out my knee,” he admitted, though he was surprised he hadn’t been thinking about his lost career in a while. His attention had been on other things.
In the kitchen, the twin cooking suddenly looked up and swore, catching everyone’s
attention. All were looking at her as she dropped the serving spoon on the counter with a loud clatter. “One of the twins needs a diaper change. Maby, help me.”
The other twin shook her head. “No diapers. I have told you I do not do diapers.”
“Yes, it’s a twin thing. Now,” the cooking twin demanded and started pushing her sister out of the kitchen and down a hallway until they vanished. Babyless.
“Agatha says you’re renovating the house across from her. How is that going?” Jonas asked, as if what just happened hadn’t.
“Agatha says not well,” Harrison answered for him with a laugh. It seemed Agatha had talked about him, just not in his best light.
Cliff was about to say something but stopped when his wife and her sister came back into the room. His eyes followed her until she gave him a little wave, which he smiled at and leaned back in his chair.
“I wouldn’t say not well, just not as expected. I was expecting it to be easier,” he admitted as the redhead went into the kitchen.
“Renovations take forever. This house took months longer than we expected, too. But we knew it would take a lot of work when he bought it. It was the perfect house for Sera,” Harrison stated and looked around the room. Chris had to admit the house was beautiful.
“What are your plans with the house?” Jonas asked.
“Live in it forever,” Harrison answered in confusion.
“I meant Chris. Are you and Agatha going to move over there? Are you going to keep two houses?” Jonas watched as his wife came out of the kitchen.
“Sell it. I never planned to live there.” Buzz cast him a look and headed back to her sisters. It was a look that told him he hadn’t won her over yet and probably never would.
“The girls are talking,” Harrison said of the sisters’ odd behavior.
“I know, my wife can’t keep a secret. Might be why she wasn’t a good reporter.” Jonas watched the redhead.
Chris turned to them. “How do you know?”
“They play telephone. One tells another, and so on until they all know. Sometimes the message gets messed up, and sometimes they tell the wrong person. Agatha’s baby was quite the surprise.” Harrison guessed what that they could be talking about now.
“She was a surprise for Agatha, too. I don’t think she ever planned on seeing her again,” Chris admitted.
“Agatha can be like that,” Jonas said as he watched his wife move across the floor, pretending to tidy up but was just moving from one sister to another, whispering.
Ignoring the comment, Chris asked, “Why don’t the sisters look alike?”
Harrison looked at him. “They do. The twins and Harper look a lot alike. Emma and Violet’s dad isn’t Bradford. Not that it matters to Sera, but it explains a lot.”
“I think only Agatha looks different. Buzz fits in better,” Jonas said as Lucy, or was it Mabel, announced that the meal was ready. Chris couldn’t yet tell them apart when they were separated. Together, it was easy.
Chris waited to get up because there were way too many people heading to the kitchen and saw Agatha do the same thing. When she saw him, she went over, set Poppy on his lap, and sat down.
Sighing, she closed her eyes. “That was as bad as I thought it was going to be.”
“But it will pass. In a few days, they won’t remember you didn’t tell them.” He put and arm around her and kissed her head.
“Not in my family. Shit never goes away.” She leaned into him further.
“Maybe this time it will.” He tried to comfort her.
“Isn’t this cute?” one of Agatha’s blonde sisters said, looking at them.
“How was fucking Mom’s brother at work?” Agatha said and rolled away from Chris so quickly he didn’t even know what was happening.
“Shit, Ag, it was never at work!” The blonde dove at Agatha, missing but catching her foot.
Agatha laughed and kicked at her sister, almost shaking her. “Should I tell him about that guy who followed you from France?”
From atop Agatha on the floor, the blonde said, “Should I tell yours about the two that came down from your room buck naked? Where were their clothes, Ag?”
“I don’t think they even knew, Harper”
“I know, because you’re a shit,” Harper said as her husband pulled her off Agatha.
“Really, you two?” Lucy or Mabel said.
“Lucy!” Agatha said from the floor with an evil grin.
“Do not even!” Lucy warned her.
“Agatha! You have a kid now,” Sera yelled from the kitchen as Agatha sat up.
“Just reminding them that I know a lot of dirt about them also. Things that they may not want the world to know,” Agatha told her mom.
“Okay, everybody back to eating. Agatha, no fighting. Chris, watch her; she’s a loose cannon sometimes.” Sera scolded her.
“A Grand Cannon?” Buzz asked the crowd. A mixture of laughs and groans responded.
“Buzz, leave Lucy Maud alone.” Sera followed the others into the kitchen again.
Agatha lay on the floor, just looking at the ceiling. Chris would’ve been worried about her if she hadn’t been smiling.
“Is Kaine your mom’s brother?” Chris asked, reaching out a hand to help her up.
“Yes. They’ve never been close, though.” She ignored the hand and stayed on the floor. “She is still quick. Always was quicker than the twins.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t fight with her,” he suggested.
“I like to remind them they were once kids and to not be so serious.”
“You’re going to get hurt.”
“I always do; they don’t hold back. I might have a concussion,” she admitted with a grin.
Reaching down, he just grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet. Instantly, he checked her eyes to see if she did have a concussion. She hadn’t been hit hard, he checked anyway. As he did that, she rubbed her head. Once he was sure she was fine, they went into the kitchen. Seeing this new version of Agatha was unusual. It was a side he hadn’t really seen over the last weeks.
During the meal, nobody said anything about what happened in the living room. Conversation circled around the babies already born and those yet to come.
Chris couldn’t get over how different the meal was from the somber meals at his mother’s house, a place where the china and crystal was always used. His siblings mostly just ate and didn’t say much. After eating with the Lovelys, he didn’t know how he was going to go back to that type of dining experience. Not after this one.
As the meal came to a close, Agatha decided that Poppy should go home, declaring that the day was too much for the baby, who, for her part, started rubbing her eyes, as if her mom told her to do it.
After saying goodbye and heading down the street, he was relieved that it was over. Now he had met her family and learned a lot about Agatha. Nothing about her surprised him anymore. She was unique and more different than he had ever suspected when they met, but everything made him like her even more.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
The next week was odd for Agatha. First, Violet did not come over after school; she just went home because her mom was home with baby Benji. Second, living with Poppy was a completely new experience. Someone was dependent on her at all times. No longer could she spend all night drawing if she wanted to. Agatha had to be able to get up in the morning when her baby wanted to eat.
Turning around her internal clock had been a challenge, though Chris helped by already being on the same internal clock as Poppy, reminding Agatha to go to bed at night and sometimes carrying her there. Then he’d wake her up as the sun came up. She had eventually stopped needing the timers she had set for herself. She had Chris, after all.
Chris started to come home at lunchtime and stay there, taking care of Poppy so she could work on her book. He didn’t know it was a book, but he let her draw just the same. She wanted to tell him, but then she would have to tell him everything.
When he
knew everything, he would leave. And in her heart, she knew that she might be good enough to fuck, but not to date. That’s who she would always be. And once he realized it, as much as it hurt her, he would be gone.
She knew she would and did love him for all his faults and flaws, but he didn’t love her. This, whatever it was, was just a distraction for him. Until he figured out what he wanted to do with his life. She had no place in the future life he would live.
After spending most of the afternoon writing the words for her book, she slipped all the pages into a large file folder. It was done. She would review it a few more times, but it was exactly how she wanted it.
Humming a song she had last been listening to, she headed downstairs to see her baby and her baby’s dad. Agatha caught sight of them on the couch snuggled together, Chris reading Poppy a book. The baby was looking at it intently. In his baritone, Chris read the familiar words to her daughter.
Walking right to him, Agatha pulled the book from his hands and looked at it. “What the fuck? Where did you get this?”
Since he had found her that day in her studio, he hadn’t spent any time up there. Or so she thought. He’d let her have her space and to work alone. How had he found a book she kept in the far corner of that room? What else had he found?
Confusion crossed his face and he said, “I bought it the day I bought the crib.”
“Why?” She tossed the book across the room, as far from him as possible. It had a moose on the cover and was one that she had worked on as Poppy grew inside her. Drawing had been her distraction then, a distraction from thinking about him.
“What?” He shook his head as he watched the book land on the floor.
“Why did you buy it?” Agatha took her daughter away from him.
“It’s a book, Agatha. Can’t I read to her?” He crossed his now empty arms.
“Why did you buy it?” she asked again as her voice clogged with unshed tears. The time had finally come. Whatever this was, was over. He was going to be gone soon. Today.
“I do not have to explain myself to you,” he hissed.