Bitter Love (Boys of Silver Ridge 3)
Taking the handful of burrs that I pulled off Riley into the kitchen, I throw them away and then pull a mug down from the cabinet. It's nearing nine PM, and, while that's a bit too early for me to go to bed, it's too late for me to attempt to do anything else for the day. Making a cup of tea and sitting on the couch to binge-watch a show sounds heavenly right now.
I get so far as putting water in the kettle when my phone dings with a text. I turn around and pick my phone up from the counter expecting to see a message from my sister. Instead, there’s a message from Poppy.
Poppy: I was cleaning out my trailer to get ready for the show this weekend and found a few older blankets that don't fit my warmbloods. Would you happen to want them? They're in decent shape.
I'll take whatever I can get, though I'm not sure what Poppy’s intentions are as of yet. I've met women like her before, women who need validation and who need to put others down because of their own insecurities. I would say it's easy to feel sorry for them, but when you live a lavish life like Poppy, I don't pity you no matter how insecure your childhood might have made you.
Me: Yes! That would be great thank you!
Poppy: I can drop them off in about 20 minutes. I'm actually about to head out to LA Cantina to pick up some food. Your aunt's farm is on the way.
Me: oh, wow. That would be great! Thank you so much!
I put my phone down and tell myself I am not going to go put on a tiny bit of makeup just so I look halfway decent for Poppy. She's already made up her mind about me and my appearance isn't going to change that. Still, I do need to shower. Double checking that the doors are locked, I hurry upstairs, twisting my hair into a messy bun on the top of my head, and strip out of my clothes. I take a quick shower, brush out my hair, and put on a teal sundress. I'm behind on laundry and I'm getting down to only having dresses left in my clean stash.
Riley barks when the doorbell rings, and I grab a cardigan on my way down, raking my fingers through my hair as I walk to the front door.
“Thank you so much,” I tell Poppy as I open the door. She's holding four folded horse blankets that I take from her and set on the coffee table. She steps inside and curiously looks around.
“I've never been inside your aunt’s house before. It's... cute.”
“Thanks,” I tell her. “It's not quite my style but renovating and redecorating doesn't really fit in my schedule right now. I'm sure when summer rolls around Everly and I will make it look more us”.
“And Everly is your daughter?”
I nod. “Yep. I would introduce you, but she is at a friend’s house for the night. It's lonely here without her.”
“Oh, I see. You two must be pretty close.”
“We are,” I say unable to keep the smile from my face. “I had her when I was only seventeen so we're closer in age than most moms and fourteen-year-olds.”
“I thought you looked young for having a teenager, but I didn't want to say anything and be considered rude.” She raises her eyebrows, looking more annoyed at the fact that society deems it inappropriate to ask a woman her age than anything.
“I really don't mind being asked,” I tell her honestly. “I'm not ashamed of being a teen mom. And, if I was, it's a little late don't you think?” I laugh and
Poppy looks at me curiously. “Anyway, my daughter is amazing, and I wouldn't change a thing even if I could.”
“She's lucky to have a mother who is so… loving,” she says seeming surprised by her own words. Blinking several times, she flips her blonde hair back and presses a smile. She’s as pretty as ever, dressed in a pink blouse that's tucked into dark jeans, tied together with a designer belt. She's wearing heels again with an expensive bag hanging from her arm.
“What is La Cantina?” I ask
“It's a bar,” she explains. “It's technically the only place open past ten PM around here where you can order food. The drinks are decent,” she adds with a shrug
“Oh, neat. I didn't know that it even existed. Obviously, I haven't gotten out much in my time here.”
“I could show you the bar, I suppose,” she adds casually. “It's very much a local hangout. And even though I've been here for nearly eight years, I still feel like an outsider when I go.”
“Oh geez, I'm always going to feel like an outsider then.”
“Nah,” she says with a wave of her hand. “You at least have family here. Had,” she corrects.