Pucking Sweet: An MMF Workplace Hockey Romance (Jacksonville Rays Book 3)
Pucking Sweet: Chapter 76

“Poppy, you listen to me now. You cannot do this, honey,” Mom says into the phone.

I sigh, crossing my legs in my reading chair. “Mom, it’s already done. I’m fourteen weeks pregnant. The baby is the size of a kiwi. And he’s a boy. You’re gonna have another grandson—”

“No, I do not accept that,” she says over me. “Honey, you’re not even married yet.”

I nod, stroking Miss Princess on my lap. After her little health scare, I’ve been extra vigilant. “I told you, Momma, we won’t be getting married. Unless it becomes legal for me to marry both my partners, we’re not—”

“Oh, and what is this nonsense about ‘partners?’ You’re not opening a law firm or playing doubles tennis. You are a lady, Poppy St. James. Someday, I hope you’ll become someone’s wife. And when you do, that man will be your husband.”

“Well, what if I don’t marry a man?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

I groan. What did I think would happen telling my mom I was pregnant? It’s not possible she could just be happy for me; I knew that going in. But after Colton’s heart update, the three of us made an action plan. Part of that plan involves coming out to our families. We don’t want there to be any questions or confusion as to exactly what we are and what our wishes are.

I mean, god forbid something happens to me, and my mother swoops in trying to take my child away from his fathers. I don’t know that I believe in ghosts, but I would haunt that woman to the grave and beyond if she so much as looked at my child without his fathers’ consent.

Meanwhile, Lukas has no family to tell, and Colton’s family has been a literal dream. His mom Cynthia is wonderful, so warm and welcoming. I met her at Christmas, along with his oldest sister Jasmine and her three kids. His middle sister Gloria is married to a woman named Kelly, and they have two daughters. Cynthia cried when we showed her the ultrasound pictures, and Jasmine and Gloria want to plan us a baby shower after the hockey season ends.

I wish my own family could be as understanding…

“It’s not ridiculous, Mom,” I try to reason. “Queer people exist. They fall in love, and get married, and have families, and live perfectly well-adjusted lives.”

“Well, you answer me this,” Mom huffs. “What are we supposed to tell people, Poppy? What do I tell our friends, our family, our pastor?”

“Tell them your daughter is happy and flourishing in a job she loves,” I reply patiently. “Tell them she’s in love with two wonderful men, and she’s having her first child this summer.”

“And that’s another thing,” she says, ready with the redirect. “I can’t believe you would choose to do this now when Deidre has waited so long to get pregnant again. This is just like a slap in the face. How are we supposed to take the time to properly celebrate her when we’re all suddenly worried about you?”

I blink back my tears. “You don’t have to worry about me, Momma. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. I am so freaking happy—”

“Don’t curse. Honestly, you’d think I raised you in a barn. What would your Nana say?”

I place my hand on my growing baby bump, fighting the urge to scream. “I’m happy, Mom. I wish you could see how happy I am. I swear, I’m not trying to upstage Violet or steal Deidre’s thunder. I’m just living my life. I fell backward into this, and now I’m here. I want this baby, and I love my partners. And if you’ll let me, I’d like to bring them to the wedding. I want you and Daddy to meet them.”

“Lord rue the day your own baby girl calls you and tells you that she has not one, but two, gentleman callers. I swear, this is like hearing the plot of The Scarlet Letter has up and come to life, and your own precious child is playing the lead role of Hester Prynne!”

“Wow,” I murmur, shifting the cat off my lap. “Mom, I have to go—”

“Well, just wait a minute now,” she says. “I think we need to talk about Nana’s money first.”

Heaven help me, not this again. “What about it, Mom?”

“Well, I’m still the guarantor of her estate,” she replies. “Which means it falls to me to see that her money is spent in a way that would do her memory honor.”

“I know, Momma. And I loved, Nana,” I’m quick to say. “She was my dearest friend in the family—”

“Well, how do you think she would feel knowing you’re setting yourself up for a lifetime of ridicule?” she says over me. “How do you think she’d feel knowing you’re gonna push that on an innocent baby, confusing them and making them stand out to their peers? Bullying is real, Poppy. I mean, did you think about any of this?”

Tears burn sharp and painful. It’s like she’s reading aloud from the pages of my anxiety journal. All my darkest fears and worries are breathed to life in her poisoned words. “I’ve thought about it a lot, Mom. But at the end of the day, I think what matters most is that my children will know they are loved and happy and cared for by parents who cherish them.”

“Well, I just don’t see how Nana could support this lifestyle choice,” she says. “And yes, Poppy, you are making a choice here. You are choosing to put your own selfish desires over the needs of a child. I mean, who does that? Such behavior cannot be rewarded, honey, I’m sorry.”

“So, what?” I say. “Are you gonna cut me off and cut me out because I won’t break up with my boyfriends? Are you gonna take all the money my precious Nana left me, money that should be going to my son?”

“I don’t see that you’re leaving me a choice.”

I sit forward in my chair, jostling the cat. “What are you gonna do, Mom? Give it to Violet and Anderson, your perfect match made in heaven?”

“Well, now, that’s not a bad idea—”

“He doesn’t even love her!” I cry. “He’s just using her to get to Daddy and to climb the ladder.”

“Poppy, why would you say such an awful thing?”

“Because, Mom, he told me so. Because he is the same person he was three years ago. He is spoiled and selfish and self-serving. He doesn’t love her, he admitted it. And, by the way, she doesn’t love him either,” I add. “She’s just sick and tired of being treated like she’s good-for-nothing. She wants to do you proud, so she’s marrying someone you would choose, regardless of her own feelings.”

“Now you’re just being cruel again.”

“No, I’m being honest. They are not a match made in heaven, Mom. They are a pair of desperate, lonely schemers destined for a living hell if you make them marry each other.”

“Once again, you are just jealous of your sister—”

“Oh my god,” I cry.

“Yes, you are jealous,” she says over me. “And you’re brokenhearted, and vulnerable, and you’re acting out. But here’s how it’s gonna be, Miss Poppy Girl. You are coming to your sister’s wedding, do you understand me? And you will not embarrass us with this mess of your ‘partners’ and your secret love child. You will show up, you will stand up, and you will smile and watch our sweet Violet marry into the Montgomerys. And I am telling you, honey, if you mess up this chance for her, I will guarantee that you never see a dime of Nana’s money. Do you understand me? And don’t think I won’t get your daddy involved if I have to.”

“And what the heck does that mean?”

She doesn’t reply. She knows whatever my brain can conjure up is worse than any other threat she could make. My dad is a powerful man with powerful friends. Righteous anger surges inside as I grip the arm of my chair with one hand. “Momma, you listen to me now. If you or Daddy do anything to negatively impact the careers of my men, or interfere in our lives in any way, I will never forgive you. You get between me and my family, and I will rage on you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous—”

“Daddy taught me everything I know about PR,” I say over her. “Don’t think I don’t know how to sell and spin a story that would ruin you both.”

She huffs. “And now you’re threatening your own mother?”

“You threatened me first.”

“I did no such thing—”

“You threaten my men, you threaten me,” I shout, my rage ready to boil over.

We’re both quiet for a minute, like a pair of tired bears circling each other before they land another blow.

She breaks the silence. “Well, it looks like the ball is in your court, Poppy. You know what I want. I want to get through this wedding without any more obscene outbursts from you. I want you present and smiling and holding your flowers like a dutiful sister. You do that, and maybe we’ll talk about Nana’s money.”

“I want to bring them,” I say before she can hang up.

“Not possible.”

“Mom, I am bringing my partners to my sister’s wedding. Just this once, I’ll tell everyone they’re my colleagues. But you will say yes to them coming, or I will announce my pregnancy on a table at the rehearsal dinner. You can keep Nana’s money. Set it on fire for all care.”

I’m bluffing, and we both know it. But that money is about so much more than the dollar value. It’s about the legacy of a life lived, a life I cherished. It’s about knowing best what my Nana would’ve wanted for me. More than anything, she wanted me to be happy. She would never have kept this money from me.

“Fine. Bring them,” she says. “But if you embarrass me, you know what I’ll be forced to do.”

“Mom, I have to go,” I say, feeling broken and so very tired.

“I have to go too.”

As I hang up, I hear the sounds of Lukas and Colton returning from the store. I wipe under my eyes, praying they don’t look red and puffy as I hear them climbing the stairs.

“Babe? We’re home!”

“In here,” I call out.

“We gotta go in like an hour,” Lukas calls up the stairs. “We have that turtle thing tonight. You still wanna go, right?”

“Yeah,” I call back, checking the time. Shoot, I have to get ready.

Lukas pops his head in the room, holding out a fresh bag of salted, shelled pistachios. I’ve been craving them like crazy. Colton is behind him, offering me a cold bottle of lemon iced tea.

“What happened?” says Lukas, his smile falling.

At his shoulder, Colton looks stricken.

I force a smile. “You’re both invited to a wedding.”