Read Online Poppy's Picnic (Poppy's Place Short) by Stephanie Beck - Free Book Online

 
     
    Chapter One
     
    Cody flung a button weed into his bucket and continued trudging through the certified organic pea pod patch. Why the hell had Poppy decided they needed, of all things, small green balls full of pus?
    “Your neck is turning red,” Trevor called from the row beside him. “Did you put sunscreen on like Poppy told you?”
    “Of course I did.” He sat down in the cool dirt between the rows. “I’m just pissed. This is stupid. Why the hell do we need organic peas? Don’t we make enough money to buy magic peas? Between the three of us, there’s got to be enough income not to have to fuss with this crap.”
    Trevor joined him on the ground, the tiny pea sprouts between them. His brother shrugged. “This isn’t about money. I don’t know what bug crawled up her ass, but it’s there, and she wants the patch cleaned. Michael, any thoughts on what has her so fired up?”
    The eldest Paraby brother sat between his rows. They were well-spaced for picking, but that only made the process take more time.
    “No idea.” Michael pulled off his ball cap and wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his wrist. “I just know she’s been acting funny since we got home from San Antonio, so I don’t want to rock the boat. It’s two acres of peas. We can handle it, guys.”
    Cody nodded. Their time in San Antonio had been a mixed bag. Good in that they’d had time to reconnect after a busy year. Not so great because all of Poppy’s old family wounds had been laid bare. An ugly divorce, cancer, a stroke—each terrible in its own right, but when they mixed together and dropped in Poppy’s lap, she’d taken the blow head on. They’d been there to help her and deflect what they could, but there was no denying old scabs had been ripped open.
     She deserved a little more of their patience as she dealt with the new revelations. She didn’t ask a whole hell of a lot from them. He pushed to his feet. He could weed the stupid peas.
    “I’ll keep working.” Trevor also jumped up. “But that doesn’t mean I have to eat the fucking things. I hate peas.”
    “Me, too,” Cody said.
    “Make that all three.” Michael peered over the field. “The shit we do for love, eh guys?”
    **
    Poppy smeared frosting on a graham cracker and topped it with a second. There. Very fancy cookie. She set it on the plate with the rest of the packet done up with vanilla frosting straight from the can. She wiped her hands on a towel and rested her forehead on the cool refrigerator door.
     What a mother she was. Her girls worked so hard at school—Da and Dee in first grade and sweet Lola in preschool—and all she had to give them was cracker sandwiches. She hadn’t even gone to pick them up. While she napped, dead to the world, Mary covered for her—leaving a note assuring Poppy she would take them to lunch.
    Then why had Poppy made treats?
    “Because I’m crazy, obviously.” She pulled the fridge door open and grabbed a gallon of milk.
    “Ooooh, frosting. Best part of having grandkids is the food.” Paul Paraby, father-in-law and semi-retired rancher grinned from the kitchen entryway.
    “Help yourself, there are plenty.” She fought to pull herself together before the waterworks started. She hated crying in front of any of her family, but her fathers-in-law were the worst. They always wanted to fix things. In this case, there was no fixing.
    “You seen Mary around?” He took a snack and motioned toward the milk.
    She filled two glasses. Her ulcers had cleared up so well, she hadn’t even thought of them in years, but she poured hers only half-full.
    “While I was sleeping the afternoon away, she had to go pick up the girls for me. She said she’d take them out for lunch, too.” Poppy handed him his drink. “I can make you a sandwich if you’d like.”
    He shook his head. “Oh no, I’m fine. Just wondering. You doing okay? Boys around?”
    “They’re in the garden.” She took a sip of cold milk,