15| Art

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Art

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Chapter 15: Art (Poppy's POV)

For the rest of our first day, we didn't do much. We went around the hotel, checked out the pool and the dining hall together, and then we went our separate ways because that was about as much of each other as we could handle in a day. 

Once I was on my own, I killed some time in my room, setting my toiletries and things up, and then I grabbed my purse, the hotel room keys, and my phone before leaving to explore the neighborhood. I spent some time hopping from one café to another in the area and then bought a few little souvenirs from one shop nearby. 

I was back at the hotel before dinner time and I was just setting all my things down when my doorbell rang. I paused and hesitated before going to get the door. 

I wonder who it could be. Oh, look. It's my lovely co-worker, Joshua Nilsen. 

"What's up, Josh?" I asked, leaning against the door. 

"Did you go out?" he asked, pocketing his phone. 

I nodded. "I bought a few souvenirs, fridge magnets, and whatnot. Did you?" 

He nodded back. "Dinner's open in the hall downstairs. I'm going. Do you want to come?" 

"You're asking me? Wow," I teased, taking the keycard out of the holder. 

"Never mind." He snatched it, leaning in to put it back in the holder. "Go on your own after me." 

I stared at him and then shrugged. "Sure. I'll see you tomorrow morning then." 

"Unfortunately for me, yes you will," he replied before walking away. 

I rolled my eyes and shut the door, deciding to go for dinner a bit later. When I went to have dinner later, I ran into Jamieson there so I had dinner with him before we retired to our rooms, planning to meet tomorrow in the lobby by nine in the morning and have breakfast here before leaving for the New Orleans Museum of Art. 

After going back to my room, getting into a pair of pajamas, and freshening up for bed, I climbed under the covers and grabbed my phone. I had to call Dad and it wasn't too late here or there yet either, so I dialed his number, holding the phone to my ear and waiting for him to answer. 

He didn't answer the first time, so I called again and this time he did. "Hey, Dad," I said, releasing a soft breath. 

I hated that it was always stressful speaking to him. After losing Mom, he changed so much for the worse. It's the worst thing that's ever happened to all of us, Dad, Jack, and me. And I understood that he took it harder than we did, of course, he did, she was his wife. But instead of catching himself or even trying to, he completely let himself collapse and with Jack being so little when it happened, my biggest fear at six years old became losing both my parents and watching my family fall apart. 

"Hey, Poppy. How've you been?" he asked me with a sigh. 

"Good, good. Sorry I haven't called lately. I've been a bit busy." 

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