The Runaway Mom

Chapter 2

"Hey, Poppy, is that you?"

I push my butterfly sunglasses down to meet my sister's gaze and roll my eyes at her as I step out of my gray convertible car.

"No, this is not Poppy," I reply and walk past her.

"Come on, Poppy," she runs to me and clings to my arms, trying to match my pace and laughing her lungs out. "I didn't know you were coming today."

"You don't have to know, Piper," I say, gently freeing her hands from my elbow to embrace her shoulder with mine.

It's been an hour since I had lunch with Charlotte and Wesley, and as expected, they were low-key convincing me not to have kids with a faceless man the entire time, as if they could still change my mind.

"Where's Mom?" I inquire, nudging the front door open.

Our house is still the same as when I left it for my suite in the Nine Streets with my best boy, Charlie — he's a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel I adopted as a puppy from the Midways' animal shelter, owned by the first girl of their family, during our fifth year of settling here in the Netherlands for good.

I remember initially thinking about breeding dogs, especially larger breeds when I was younger. But then I stumbled upon Wijde Heisteeg and instantly fell in love with it. That's when I decided to adopt Charlie. He was just too adorable to resist, and I knew he'd be a perfect fit for our cozy apartment. Cavaliers are small and perfect for apartment living, unlike larger breeds that might find it tough with limited space. I wanted to avoid overwhelming my home— my fur baby. Perhaps in the future, when I have a larger place where my pets can roam freely, I'll consider adopting larger breeds.

"She's out with the girls, it'll probably take her years before they'd get to drink together since Mom has a long layover in Iceland. Aunt Miranda will also have a chaotic schedule next week, while Aunt Elle is scheduled to fly to Thailand. They'd be on separate flights again," my sister then drags me with her to the pathway going to the kitchen. "Come, I'll get you something to eat. "How about Charlie, why isn't he with you?"

My head remains fixed on our mother's picture, hanging in the foyer with her best friends, causing my neck to ache when we finally reach the dining room. Despite being pulled along, my attention remains tethered to the cherished memories captured within the frame.

Mom was only eighteen when she became a flight attendant and crossed paths with a guy I barely knew as a father, who introduced her to Aunt Elle and Miranda. They eventually became her best buddies, and then he impregnated her, and she had me when she was nineteen. But he left her for another vagina at twenty-one, while the girls stayed with her, standing as her pillars of strength and hope during the trying times.

I can recall both of them offering to take care of me if one of them, either with my mom on a flight or traveling on their own, was unavailable. This arrangement continued until I turned sixteen, as I often didn't want to be home. Despite having families of their own, their doors remained open for me.

"I'll go get you food, so just sit here and wait for it, okay?" My sister's tone, though authoritative, doesn't sound like that of a 17-year-old, almost patronizing, as if she's speaking to a toddler, before she moves over to the kitchen island. She starts opening and closing the cupboards, and in the blink of an eye, she's already donned her apron and is facing the cooktops.

"Alright. Whatever you'd like to. Charlie's with Olivia, anyway."

Olivia's Charlotte and Wesley's daughter, named after me because they feel guilty that we're a trio, and they were kissing and cuddling in front of me.

"Olivia loved my boy so dearly, and Charlie's so fond of her too. They just clicked, and she hasn't been feeling good lately. She believes everything would feel better with Charlie, so she asked if she could spend two nights with him at their house," I explain. "How can I say no to such a cutie? She was our first niece, and I know you would agree with me."