Poppy
Two hours later, my phone buzzed and I pulled up a text from Devon.
Coming over.
Why? Grrr. This was all I needed.
I heard his quiet knock and checked the camera feed… it was in fact Devon standing on the porch, and I debated whether or not I was going to ignore him.
I didn’t.
I paused my favorite Ken Burns documentary (The Civil War) and dragged myself to the foyer. Entering the code for the alarm, I pulled open the door and stepped back to allow him entry, before closing the door and reentering the code. “Did you forget something?”
“Yeah. You and I are gonna hash this out, Poppy. You’re not leavin’ for another year without this bein’ resolved.”
“The kids just went to bed, so we need to be quiet.”
“Not plannin’ on yellin’, are you?”
“Don’t know yet,” I retorted, and led
