Wrapped Up In A Weeping Willow

by Tonya Kappes

  “I caught Rob having sex with my psychic.”

  Brett busted out laughing and sat up. He had the biggest grin on his face.

  “It’s not funny!” Poppy sat up next to him. His laughter was infectious and she started to laugh alongside him.

  “It’s sorta funny.” His jaw relaxed. “I mean, a psychic?”

  “Long story, but let’s say I had her come give him a reading about a deal with a new Thoroughbred. I think she misunderstood me because she was riding him like a jockey.” The sound of it made her laugh even more. “So I used her sage stick to set her clothes on fire.”

  “Sage stick?”

  “This cleansing thing.”

  “What is wrong with you?” Brett smiled. “Hell, use Glade PlugIns.”

  “You are crazy.” Poppy gave him a little shove. “Are you going to let me get through this story or not?”

  He put his hands up in the air, “Fine.” He used his finger to pretend to zip his lips.

  “Okay. So I’m not sure if I was mad that he was cheating or that I was going to loose my only friend in Louisville.” Poppy couldn’t stop the emotions from coming out of her mouth. It was the first time she’d let her thoughts escape. “Anyway, we lived in this really old mansion that I really didn’t like, but it was his family’s and it just went right up in flames.”

  “Shit, Poppy.”

  “No kidding. He’s suing me for the damages as well as defamation because I kinda slammed him on the radio. Then I was numb so they took me to Pine Crest, where I really realized I wasn’t sorry or crazy. Mad. I was mad. I’m still mad.”

  “Because you still love him?”

  “No.” She shook her head. A tear fell from her eye. “Pine Crest made me realize I don’t love him. Never loved him. Loved the idea of him and what our marriage was going to be. But instead of a happy, loving husband, I was blinded, and ended up with no family, no friends.”

  “But you had all that money. And y’all looked like the perfect couple.”

  “Money doesn’t make you happy. Plus we have a lot of credit cards.” Poppy’s brows lifted. “Credit cards give you the false sense of entitlement. Instead of getting love, he bought me things to keep me satisfied while he did whatever he wanted with whoever he wanted. Now I have nothing. I signed off on all sorts of papers before we got married. My money was spent. Now he’s blackmailing me to come back. Come back and pretend I went nuts, got help, keep the image alive.”

  Brett ran his hands through his hair.

  “I guess we both didn’t plan our futures very well.”

  “You got a beautiful daughter out of it. I got to come back to Hudson Hollow, where my friends have disowned me, the Coach is sick, and the farm has been sold. Time that I can’t get back and make right. Time I can’t get back with the Coach.” She looked over at Brett. “You know that asshole kept my parents from talking to me?”

  “That asshole did a lot of stuff you don’t know about.” Brett bit the insides of his mouth as though he were trying to decide to talk. “He came to Hudson Hollow a few times and paid me a visit or two.”

  “What?”

  “I guess he was always worried that you’d come back. He made sure I knew that you were his. You had picked him and you weren’t ever coming back.”

  “That is why I let Elizabeth cut my hair, dye it back to black, and sort of hide.” She was too mad to be upset. Rob had carefully planned how he had slowly cut everyone out of her life. “If the tabloids find me here, they will have it plastered all over the papers, and Rob is actively looking for me.”

  “If it’s any consolation, he’s telling everyone you are back home and taking time away from the media.”

  “He what?” Her eyes narrowed. “Unbelievable. He really does think I’m going to take his little deal.”

  “If you don’t?”

  “I will have to go to trial for arson and defamation.” The phone rang from her pocket. She jumped, forgetting she’d bought the phone. She pulled it out of her pocket and looked at the digital screen, seeing it was Lily. She flipped it open. “Hey.”

  Lily and Elizabeth were the only ones who knew about the phone.

  “Thanks for leaving me.” Poppy made it sound like she was mad. Truth be told, she was actually happy they’d left her or she wouldn’t have had this time alone with Brett. “What?”

  Brett looked at her intently.

  “Okay. Yes. Brett brought me home. Long story. I’ll be right there. Okay. I’ll wait for your call.” Poppy flipped the phone shut. Now she knew her tears were tears of sadness. “The Coach is having a bad night. He’s disoriented and Lily wanted to let me know that she had to call in my mama to get him calmed down.”

  “Poppy.” Brett draped an arm lightly around her shoulder and drew her to him. She flushed as a rush of warmth flashed through her. The comfort of his touch had always told her it was going to be okay, and ten years later his touch was just as comforting. “I’m so sorry you are going through all this.” His warm breath brushed the top of her head.

  She closed her eyes and let the flood of emotions wash over her. The shame of how she’d handled the erosion of her marriage, the sadness of the loss of the Coach, and the reignited and confused inner feelings she was having about Brett.

  She looked up at him. His gaze was as soft as a caress. He lowered his head, his lips soft and sensitive as they rested on her own.

  “I . . . um . . .” She pulled away from him and stood up. The last thing she needed was to jump into bed with Brett, only for Rob to find out and accuse her of cheating on him.

  There was no way she wanted to complicate Brett’s life. He already had enough on his plate as a single dad.

  “Gotta go.” She swallowed hard, not looking at him. “I need to get to bed and get rid of the alcohol in my system before I go on the air in the morning.”

  She darted up the dock plank and ran across the yard. She stopped briefly to look back at Brett. He stood on the dock, lit against the dark night and looking out at the water.

  Curse words fell from her mouth. Her mind raced between anger, despair, and sadness, making it impossible to steady her erratic pulses. Tears trembled on her eyelids.

  “No,” she spat. Her teeth clenched. “I will not run!” The thought of jumping in the car and driving until she couldn’t drive any more tickled her brain. The words began to flow and she gathered her strength. “First I’m going to find out who bought this farm, then I’m going to get a lawyer and get a divorce, and. . .” A sense of strength came to her and her despair lessened. “And them I’m going to start my life over again here. In Hudson Hollow.”

  She glanced past the house.

  The weeping willow called her.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  “Good morning, Hudson Hollow.” The radio studio was much smaller than the one Rob had custom-built for her, and that was fine with her. She liked the small, cozy studio and had even told Rob the one he’d built was too big. He hadn’t listened and did what he thought was best. “This is Poppy Bailey, coming at you this fine Thursday morning. I’ll be here for your morning commute, playing good-time, good ol’ country.”

  She adjusted the big earphones on her head. They were stretched out all the way and had duct tape wrapped around the band to keep them together. She sure wished she had the custom-fit earphones Benji had gotten her.

  “Call me here on HH FM and give me your morning commute request. For now…” She pushed the button on the board to start the beginning of the song so it would lead into the lyrics as soon as she signed off. “This one goes out to the Coach. A little of Patsy Cline’s ‘She’s Got You.’”

  As Patsy swooned over the frequency, Poppy took off the earphones and looked out of the big window over Main Street, taking multiple sips of her coffee. She needed all the caffeine she could get after last night, when she’d spent a couple of hours hiding under the warmth of the weeping willow after the kiss.

  The steam of the hot coffee curled around he
r nose. The bitter aroma was welcoming, and so was the dawn. It was about the time of half-light, that in between time when the rooster crows and the coffeepot starts perking. Still, Poppy was grateful to be there, even though the Coach was on the forefront of her mind. She had called the nursing home to check on his status, and all they could tell her was that he was sleeping soundly. She prayed that when he got up he would be feeling better. Hopefully when she went to visit him today, he would know her.

  She was also relieved that her daddy and mama hadn’t brought up Rob or her situation. They only talked to her about the Coach and how dire the situation really was. Poppy could tell they were trying to talk her out of wasting her time stopping the sale and moving on with her life, but the farm was her life. Besides, finding out who bought the property was just going to soothe her curiosity.

  The blinking light on the phone caught her attention. Her heart skipped. Someone out there was listening to her. The other line lit up and her heart skipped again.

  “HH FM, please hold,” Poppy said and went to the next line. “HH FM, please hold.” The last piano key hit from Patsy’s song and Poppy pushed the first line again to bring the caller on the air. “This is Poppy Bailey on HH FM, Hudson Hollow’s home of country music and all things local. Good morning, caller.” Poppy was glad to hear her radio voice hadn’t changed like her life. “You are live on HH FM. What is your name?”

  “I’m liiive?” the woman caller asked, her Southern twang making live into two syllables instead of one.

  “Yes; what song would you like to hear this morning to get you up and at ’em?” Poppy encouraged the caller, trying to help her along.

  “Well, I . . . um . . .” The caller cleared her throat and whispered, “I was wonderin’ if you could recommend any good lube I can get down at the drugstore.”

  “I’m sure if you go on down to the Philips’s gas station on the corner of Main and Oak, you can ask Grandma Philips or one of her grandboys what is best for your car.” Poppy didn’t know much about cars, but from what she recalled, Philips’s service station was still located down the street and they were a full-service station.

  Grandma Philips worked day in and day out. She wore her black hair in a tight bun on her head, a housedress buttoned up the front with knee-high tan panty hose rolled down to her ankles, and little black soft-soled shoes. Whenever Poppy pulled in to get gas, Grandma Philips always came out to pump, even when Poppy protested. So Poppy didn’t mind giving the gas station a plug. Chester Castle might, but she didn’t.

  “You mean to tell me that the Philips’s sells lubricant for the body?” the caller stuttered.

  “Car body?” Poppy stiffened with the realization that the woman knew who she was and what her radio personality had been.

  “Nah, honey, my body.” The woman whispered, “Are we still on the air?”

  “Greta Mae! Are you on that sex radio show? Is that you on there?” Poppy heard a man’s voice come through the phone, the slam of a door, and heavy footsteps. “That better not be you on there!”

  “Gatta go!” The woman hurried off the phone. The line went silent.

  Poppy could feel her face flush crimson, but she had a job to do. She cleared her throat and pushed the second line.

  “Good morning, caller.” Poppy closed her eyes and chose her words carefully. “You are live. On the radio with Poppy Bailey. I’m taking requests for songs, nothing else to help you get on with your morning commute. Do you have a song you’d like to hear?”

  “Nah. I just wanted to know what kind of vibrator I should get my wife for our anniversary. I heard they can help out in the bedroom to help her um . . . reach her . . . um.” The male caller hesitated.

  “Climax?” Poppy threw her hands in the air.

  “Yeah. That’s what she said it was. Climax.” He laughed. “Hell, I was going to say climate, but I knew that wasn’t right.”

  Poppy put the caller on hold and pushed the button for the next song. This was clearly not going the way she thought it would.

  “Hi.” Poppy went back to the caller. “The best way for you and your wife to get the best vibrator for her, you should take her out of town to a nice city and visit a store that specializes in those types of tools. The salesperson will be able to help you figure out what it is you are looking for. Then I suggest you take her out to dinner and get a nice big bottle of wine. After dinner, take her to a hotel and experiment with your new gadget.”

  “Wine?” the male caller asked. “Hmm. She likes bourbon, not wine.”

  “Well, bourbon is fine. Any type of alcohol will help break the tension.” Poppy groaned as the other line lit up. She was in no mood to answer more sex questions.

  “Good morning, HH FM.” Poppy put a smile on her face, hoping a cheery disposition would shine through the phone.

  “Are we on the air?” Chester Castle seethed on the other end.

  “No, Chester.” Poppy closed her eyes, prepared for the tongue-lashing she was about to get.

  “Now I don’t know where you think you are, but I told you that this is a wholesome radio station, and none of that sex talk will go on around here. I told you them churchwomen are already all over me and my Bunny.” Chester rambled on.

  Poppy put her head down in her hands when she saw the other phone line light up.

  “Chester, I didn’t ask them to call in with questions. I said I was taking requests.” Poppy sighed. “Can I please do my job?”

  “You are treading lightly, girly.” Chester slammed down the phone.

  “Good morning, HH FM.” Poppy gritted her teeth, waiting for the caller to answer. “Would you like to request a song this morning?” she asked with an emphasis on the word song.

  “I’d like to request ‘For the Good Times’ by Ray Price.” The male caller sounded very familiar. “It’s something special to me.”

  Poppy gulped, realizing Brett was the caller on the other end of the line.

  The last time she’d heard that song was before she’d left Hudson Hollow for what she thought was forever. Brett had invited her over to his parents’ while they were out to dinner. They’d made love while Brett played his parents’ records on the old record player in their basement.

  Poppy knew her plan was to leave without saying good-bye because she knew if she did tell Brett her plan, he’d stop her and she’d give in. “For the Good Times” was the last song he’d played before kissing her good night. Somehow he knew it was the last time he was going to see her. And in her gut she knew he knew but still gave him one last kiss without a word.

  “I can do that.” Tears sat on the edge of Poppy’s eyelids. The phone line clicked.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  “Hello, Sid.” Poppy had thought about what she was going to say to her agent the entire time she was on the air at HH FM. She had even rehearsed how the conversation would go, but her mind had gone blank as soon as she’d heard Sid’s voice.

  “Harper! Where are you? Where were you when you called me?” Sid didn’t give Poppy any time to answer. “Who cares? Wherever you are, go to the nearest airport. I’m going to get you on a plane.”

  “I’m not really ready to come back.” Poppy waited for the wrath of Sidney Delaney. When there was dead silence, she drew in a deep breath and continued. “I’m not sure how I’m going to proceed with my life, but I do know that I am not going backward.”

  “I can tell you,” Sid’s words bit through the phone. “If you don’t come back to Rob Ellington, you will be in a jail cell the rest of your life. The charges against you aren’t Romper Room shit. They’re felonies. You didn’t have a little shoving match on a playground. When you decided to burn down the house, you entered the boxing ring with the Ellingtons, and I’m afraid they have you backed into a corner.”

  “Sid, don’t be so dramatic.” Poppy rolled her eyes.

  “Dramatic? The only way you are going to get out of this is to go back to him. Get the charges dropped and get back on the radio; then you can
get your shit together and leave him the right way.” Sid was good at convincing people to do things, only Poppy knew it and wasn’t falling for it.

  “You think I can just put on a happy face and say that I didn’t see him cheating on me? And then you want me to go back on the radio?” Poppy laughed, and she knew it would fuel Sid’s fire.

  “Listen to me you little shit, you will fulfill all these contracts and smile while you’re fucking doing it. Do you understand me?” Sid demanded when she didn’t like Poppy’s answer. “Now get your ass to an airport and get on a plane back to your husband.”

  “Go fuck yourself. You’re fired!” Poppy flipped the phone shut, cutting the call off. She opened the phone and pounded out Aunt Pris’s phone number with her finger.

  “Hello?” Pris answered with hesitation.

  “Aunt Pris.” Poppy knew she was going to have to find a good lawyer. “I need to see you.”

  “Well, if it has to do with that morning talk show…” Aunt Pris laughed.

  “No.” Poppy cut her off. “I need help with some legal stuff.”

  “Like?” Pris asked suspiciously.

  “Like a divorce and some felony charges.” Poppy looked out the window of the Mustang. Downtown Hudson Hollow was beginning to fill up with tourists and locals, going from one place to another.

  “Meet me at the Sleeping Bee at noon. I just might have someone for you,” Pris said, giving Poppy a little hope.

  “Thank you so much, Aunt Pris.” Poppy shut the phone and tucked it away in her pocket. She turned the key in the ignition and put the car in drive, heading toward Sunshine.

  Brett’s kiss last night and his call this morning played over and over in her head like a movie. Her life was so messed up; she was not going to let Brett go along for the ride. She’d already hurt him once. She didn’t even know what her future held. Hell, a month ago she’d never pictured herself in Hudson Hollow. Of course she knew her marriage to Rob wasn’t what she had ever dreamed of, and it was definitely not like her own parents’ loving marriage that she grew up with. Her parents also didn’t have the stressful life and money she and Rob had. All this time she’d blamed her marriage stress on the daily grind of their busy life.