Going Up | ✓

It's Not My Fault You Ran Your Car Into A Mail Box - (7)

It's Not My Fault You Ran Your Car Into A Mail Box.

'Are you sure you don't want to come?' he asks yet again. 'I'll pay for it all, Poppy, you just need to come with me.'

I let out an exasperated sigh. 'Ivan, I can't just drop everything and follow you to Burlington for the week, I've already said this to you!'

'It's not a week, only four days,' Ivan corrects me. 'Why can't you? Not working for a few days won't kill you.'

I close my eyes and count to five. He's just not listening to me, and I can't help but grow frustrated with him. 'Ivan,' I say sternly. 'I've already told you about seven hundred times; I'm not coming with you. I'm not taking four days off work to accompany you on a business trip, okay? You're going to be in meetings all day, and I don't want to come with you, only to have to entertain myself all the time.'

'You were the one who said you'd love to travel, but you've never been out of New York state, except to go one state over to your grandparents' house! Why don't you just live a little and come with me? You can discover Burlington and have a good time, and then we can spend together in the evenings. Besides, I might not be in meetings all day.'

I roll my eyes, giving up arguing with him. 'You better go, Ivan, or you're going to miss your flight.'

He chuckles lightly. 'It's a private jet, Poppy, it goes when I want it to. It would wait all day for me if I needed it to.'

I scoff. Of course. I don't know why I didn't expect that. 'Obviously,' I mutter under my breath. 'Well, either way, I'm not coming with you. You're a big boy, I'm sure you can handle going away for a few days without me.'

'Oh yes, you know exactly how much of a big boy I am, don't you, Poppy?' he murmurs huskily through the phone.

I exhale. 'Ivan, I'm hanging up now. I'll see you soon.'

Ivan groans. 'Okay, I'll see you when I get back, darling. Be safe, okay?'

'You sound like a nagging mother,' I roll my eyes. 'Goodbye, and have fun,' I hang up before he can say anything else. Honestly, he can be so clingy sometimes, but I can't deny that I love it when he calls me darling.

'Mommy?'

I turn around at the sound of my son's voice. 'Yes, Oliver?'

'Who were you talking to? Was it that man again?' he walks towards me, his small hand tightly clutching his teddy bear, Berry.

I smile and scoop him up, placing him on my lap. 'Yes, it was,' I murmur, wrapping my arms around him and burying my face in his hair. Sometimes I have to remind myself that I'm looking out for two people here, and Oliver getting to know Ivan could be dangerous.

'You didn't sound like you were fighting,' he observes, looking up at me with his big brown eyes. In all honesty, I have no idea how Ivan didn't figure out Oliver was my son. He looks so like me. Granted, his brown hair is a shade or two lighter than me, but his eyes are the exact replica of mine. I couldn't be more glad that his eyes are mine, I'm not sure I'd want to be able to look into his father's eyes every day. His bone structure is, luckily, very similar to mine as well.

I smile lightly. 'No, we weren't. We were just talking.'

Oliver nods, seemingly satisfied with my answer. 'When will I see Maddie again, Mommy? I miss her. And the others.'

I smile fondly at him. I'm so glad he likes my friends. He has trouble pronouncing Kyla's name, and so he normally just doesn't say it. 'How about we have them over tomorrow night, yeah? We can catch up with them then.'