by Lila Monroe
Right?
Maybe I need to take the pressure off. Isn’t Poppy always telling me how her clients all found love with common interests and hobbies? I’m not about to get into downward dog, but as we head back out to the lakeshore, my eyes land on the dock full of watersports equipment.
“Have you been out on the water yet?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “I’ve been meaning to, though.”
“There’s no time like the present. How about it?” I ask. “There’s a great little island across the lake we could canoe to.”
Jasmine looks around. “That sounds great,” she says, suddenly brightening. “Poppy!” she calls ahead to where Poppy is walking towards us on the path.
Before I can react, Jasmine beckons her over. “Want to come canoeing?” Jasmine asks.
“Umm.” Poppy looks to me, and I shake my head vigorously, out of sight behind Jasmine. No. No way. Poppy pauses tactfully. “I don’t know . . .”
“I’m sure Poppy has work to be doing,” I say, shooting her a meaningful look. “Didn’t you say you had a ton of writing? A poem, for example. Besides, the canoes are made for two.”
“Oh,” Jasmine says. “I didn’t think of that.”
And just when I think I might get that romantic canoe ride after all, Tyler comes sauntering up. “Did I hear you say you need a fourth?” he says. “I’d love to come along.”
“Great!” Jasmine declares, before any of us can object. “Then we’re all set!”
She leads Tyler down to the dock, leaving Poppy behind . . . with a murderous look in her eyes.
“I’m going to kill you,” she whispers, and I offer a smile.
“It’s all in the name of true love, right?”
14
Poppy
Here’s a fun question. Would you rather:
a) Be covered in honey and dropped in a pit of fire ants?
b) Get locked in a small room listening to German death metal music at full volume for twenty-four hours?
Or
c) Be stuck on a double date with your asshole ex in the middle of a lake when you’ve forgotten sunscreen and bug spray?
There’s no contest. As we climb out of the canoes and wade ashore on the tiny island in the middle of the lake, I would gladly take the fire ants and Rammstein. Because somehow Operation Avoid My Toxic Ex-Boyfriend has turned into Operation Trap Poppy in a Confined Space with Said Ex instead.
Dylan is going to owe me for this. Bigtime.
“It’s so pretty here!” Jasmine exclaims. “Look, Poppy, birds!”
“Yay,” I manage weakly. “Birds.”
Jasmine insisted on rowing girls vs. boys with me on the journey out to the little island in the middle of the lake, so I’ve been able to avoid Tyler so far, but I can feel Dylan’s lovestruck eyes on her the whole time. The minute we reach dry land, he’s right back at Jasmine’s side again. “Let me show you around,” he tells her. “If you like birds, there’s a nest just over that hill.”
They take off up the incline together, leaving me with the one man I would happily swim back across the lake to avoid.
“Poppy,” Tyler grins at me, looking ridiculously preppy in head-to-toe seersucker. “Looks like you couldn’t stay away.”
“We’re on an island,” I inform him, gesturing around at the small beach. “There’s not really anywhere else to go.”
“Aww, come on, you’re not still hung up over what happened between us?” Tyler asks, strolling closer. “We’re both adults. It’s water under the bridge.”
I take a deep breath, about to set him straight . . . and then think better of it. Tyler loves to argue, it’s like verbal foreplay to him. The most annoying thing I could possibly do right now is simply keep my cool.
“Sure. Water. Plenty of it,” I say brightly. “Well, great catching up. I’m going to enjoy the sun.”
I sit myself down on a patch of sand and pull out my notebook. Since I’m clearly working this afternoon, I may as well get a jump on that love poem Dylan wanted.
What rhymes with dimple?
Simple . . . Tinkle . . . Pimple . . .
A shadow falls across the paper. “Did you pack sunscreen?” Tyler asks. “Your face is looking kind of red.”
“I’m fine,” I reply.
“You always did burn easy,” Tyler adds. “Remember that trip we took to Atlantic City? Your shoulders were peeling for a week.”
I swallow hard. “You mean that trip where you flirted with the waitress and then swore you didn’t, even though I found her number in your pocket?” I ask. “Fun times!”
He drops to the ground beside me. “So, how have you been?” Tyler continues, tossing pebbles into the water. “I’m glad we ran into each other. You know, you’re looking great.”
I can feel his eyes on me, but I refuse to look up over. “Me? I’ve been amazing. Fantastic,” I reply.
“I’m glad to hear it,” Tyler says. “I’ve been doing great too.”
Gee, what a surprise.
“My pieces for Dapper have been doing really well,” he continues, as if I asked. “Traffic is through the roof, and I’m thinking about—”
“Isn’t it lovely and peaceful out here?” I interrupt him. “So quiet.”
He chuckles. “Hint taken. I have work to do, anyway. I need to figure out what to say about this place. I’m still on the fence. I mean, it’s all so . . . throwback wholesome.”
Now I do look up. “You’re reviewing the hotel?” I ask. “It’s no contest, surely. The place is amazing.”
Tyler raises an eyebrow, like he’s amused by my reaction. “Yeah, but I can’t exactly say that. You don’t exactly get a lot of clicks just writing, A plus, great job.”
“You do if it’s the truth.” I frown, thinking of all the hard word Dylan has put into this place. Would Tyler really blow all that up just to get a few extra readers?
Yes, he would.
I take a deep breath, trying to be smart about this. “I always wonder about critics,” I say casually, putting my notebook aside. “I mean, it’s so much easier to tear something down than build it up, don’t you think? Anyone can write a scathing review, but it takes real skill to praise something in a new and interesting way.”
“You think?” Tyler looks thoughtful.
“Oh, absolutely,” I insist. “Wasn’t it Oscar Wilde who said, ‘The sharpest tongue is the bluntest instrument’?”
“I haven’t heard that one,” Tyler replies, frowning now.
I hide a smile. “It’s from one of his early letters,” I lie. If Pinterest has taught me anything, it’s that when it doubt, claim Oscar Wilde said it. I just hope it’s enough to make Tyler rethink his hatchet job.
Jasmine and Dylan emerge from the trees again, talking. “. . . I’ve always wanted to learn more about crystal healing,” Dylan is saying, and I have to bite my lip to keep from laughing out loud.
Say what?
“It’s really fascinating,” Jasmine replies. “There’s so much we don’t understand about the human body and our energy sources.”
“Uh huh,” Dylan murmurs in agreement. I catch his eye and smirk, and he gives me a look, as if to say, Don’t start.
I mime my lips being sealed, just as Jasmine looks up. “Poppy! I was just telling Dylan about our amazing spa morning. I feel so rejuvenated.”
“Did you hear that?” I tell Tyler sweetly. “World-class spa. Rave reviews!”
I get to my feet. “I’m going to look for shells,” I say to nobody in particular. “Let me know when we’re heading back.”
I stroll a short way down the beach, but to my surprise, Dylan follows. “What are you doing?” I whisper. “Shouldn’t you be wooing right about now?”
“I’m trying!” he exclaims, looking frustrated. “But we have nothing in common.”
“Neither do we, but somehow, we manage to make it through the day in complete sentences,” I point out.
Dylan pushes a hand through his hair. “I
told her I’m thinking about a meditation retreat. Me, in a monastery somewhere, taking a vow of silence!”
I burst out laughing. “I’m sorry.” I stop, seeing his expression. “It’s not funny . . . except, it kind of is! I mean, imagine, you holding your tongue for even ten minutes.”
“I know!” Dylan finally smiles. “But I was so desperate for something to say, it just came out!” He glances back to where Jasmine is chatting happily with Tyler. “What’s that guy’s deal, anyway? He just invited himself along for the ride.”
“To annoy me. It’s his signature move.” I sigh.
Dylan looks at me. “You two dated?”
“Something like that.” I don’t want to get into our tangled, messy history now, so I just give a shrug. “Anyway, you don’t have to lie to impress Jasmine. Just be yourself.”
“Any other advice, Mom?” he asks, teasing.
“Well, taking your shirt off could help,” I say without thinking.
He smirks. “Say what now?”
I blush. “I just mean, you know, if you’re going show off your . . . assets. Women are visual creatures too, you know.”
“So is that what first drew you to Tyler,” he asks, chuckling. “His ripped physique?”
I give him a playful shove. “Don’t start. I’ve met most of your exes, remember? I’m guessing you fell for their wit and brains, right?”
“Point taken.” Dylan grins, but his smile fades when he looks back to Jasmine. “I’m striking out, big time. You’ve got to help me here.”
He looks so forlorn, I sigh. “Fine,” I say reluctantly. “I’ll paddle back with Tyler and give you two some more time alone.”
“You’d do that?” Dylan looks surprised. “I thought you couldn’t stand to be around the guy.”
“I can’t. So if I toss him overboard, it’s on you,” I declare, bracing myself for the trip ahead.
“Well . . . thank you.” Dylan smiles at me. “I really appreciate it.”
“Perhaps you can show your appreciation to me later,” I say, before realizing just how dirty it sounds. Even Dylan looks surprised. “I meant with room service!” I protest. That doesn’t help. Dammit! “Food,” I blurt. “Give me cake, and we’ll call it even. And no, that’s not a euphemism!”
“OK.” Dylan laughs, relaxing. “It’s a deal.”
* * *
We pair off and start paddling back across the lake.
“Isn’t this fun?” Jasmine calls over, from where she and Dylan are in the other canoe. She’s paddling happily, while Dylan looks pretty content, too, to have her all to himself.
“Just fantastic,” I reply. I awkwardly wield my paddle and wonder, what part of “relaxing lake vacation” includes forced exercise?
Not my kind of vacation, I can tell you that.
“You need to paddle the other direction,” Tyler’s voice comes from behind me, irritatingly smug.
“Thanks for the tip!” I exclaim brightly, and I keep paddling. If I just focus on the positives, I can make it back to shore, I decide. Isn’t that what Jasmine would tell me—if she wasn’t giggling away with Dylan right now? Count my (hashtag) blessings.
OK then. Blessing one, I’m away from the heat and traffic fumes of the city, breathing in the gorgeous country air.
Blessing number two, the lake is clear, the color of dark turquoise, and when I trail my hand in the water, it’s deliciously cool.
Blessing three, if I need to dispose of Tyler’s body, I can just shove him over the side and he’d sink straight to the bottom.
Wait, that’s not positive thinking . . .
Or is it?
“How’s your ass?”
“Excuse me?” I demand.
“After that karaoke fall.” I can hear the amusement in his voice. “It looked like you bit it hard.”
“I’m fine,” I reply. Light and breezy, Poppy. Light and breezy. “Thanks for the concern.”
“Seriously, you’re doing this wrong,” Tyler adds. “You need to paddle in time with me. We’re going to wind up in circles.”
“Why can’t you paddle in time with me?” I ask. Up ahead, Jasmine and Dylan are effortlessly paddling in unison. She laughs at something he says, and he grins at her, and they look so happy and gorgeous, it’s like a dating commercial. Clearly, he’s found a way to break the ice. Either that, or he’s pledging to take a reiki workshop this weekend.
Meanwhile, I’m wondering if my oar can be used as an offensive weapon.
“You always were a kidder,” Tyler continues. “I’m glad we have this chance to reconnect. You know, I’ve been feeling like things are still kind of . . . unresolved between us. We both made some mistakes, and looking back now, I wonder—”
“Excuse me?!” I whip my body around, finally at breaking point. “We both made mistakes? Sure, I guess that’s one way of looking at things. You made the mistake of cheating on me, several times, and I made the mistake of not immediately burning all your things in a trash fire!”
Tyler grins at me, unconcerned. “You always look so sexy when you’re mad.”
“No!” I exclaim, pointing my oar at him. “You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to rewrite our history like it never even happened. You were a terrible boyfriend! Terrible! You lied, and you cheated, and you broke my heart! Which you never even deserved in the first place. And I’m doing just fine, so there’s definitely nothing unresolved about how happy I am to be without you now!”
“Poppy?”
“What?” I scowl.
“We’re here.” Tyler nods, and I turn back around to find the canoe is bumping up against the dock. Dylan and Jasmine have already climbed out, and they’re standing on the jetty watching us—and clearly heard every last word.
Along with everyone else on the beach.
“Great,” I sigh, and I get to my feet, unsteady. I take a step towards solid land—and send the canoe rocking wildly.
Tyler offers his hand. “Let me help you—” he starts, but I give him a look.
“You’ve helped plenty, mister,” I reply. “I’m perfectly capable!”
“Poppy . . .”
I ignore him, stepping out of the canoe onto the dock, but I realize too late my sandals are made for lounging by a pool, not hiking over rough terrain. I lose my footing—and get a terrible sense of déjà vu, along with the burst of panic.
Not again!
Yes, again.
My foot slips. My arms windmill. For the second time in twenty-four hours, I do battle with gravity—and gravity wins, yet again.
I tumble into the icy lake with an almighty SPLASH!
15
Poppy
“Are you sure you’re OK?”
“My pride is a little bedraggled, but yes, I’m fine,” I sigh, squelching my way back along the path with water dripping down my face. And every other part of me, too. “At least this time, I had a soft landing.”
“If it helps, the natural lake water is supposed to be great for your skin,” Jasmine offers. She insisted on accompanying me back to my cabin, leaving the guys to joust with the oars, or whatever manly thing they want to do. “I read that natural algae has all kind of mineral properties. People pay through the roof to smear it all over their faces.”
I smile. “Maybe we should tell Dylan to put it on the official spa menu: a bracing swim with beautifying properties.”
As we walk, people turn to stare. I don’t blame them. I don’t so much resemble a drowned rat as a waterlogged raccoon, but hey, at least I made it back to dry land without whacking Tyler with my oar. That counts as a win to me.
“I’m sorry about Tyler,” Jasmine says, looking upset. “I never would have let him come along if I knew he was your ex.”
“It’s OK,” I reply, sighing. “I mean, sure, I would have preferred running into him at, say, the award ceremony where I was presented with the Nobel prize for literature while wearing a custom designed Givenchy gown with a hottie on my arm, but what are you going to
do?”
“If it helps, he went a funny shade of pink when you yelled at him,” Jasmine said, smiling.
I grin. “It did feel good to get all that off my chest. Finally. Why is it you can never think of the right words at the time? When we finally broke up, all I could do was cry; I didn’t think of the perfect insults until weeks later!”
“Well, you definitely put him in his place this time. Want to have some tea, once you’re dried off?” Jasmine asks. “I brought this Sencha blend, it’s supposed to be very soothing.”
“Thanks, but I think I’ll take it easy. Stay away from liquids,” I joke. “Besides, aren’t you supposed to be spending the day with Dylan? I’m sorry I interrupted your date.”
“Date?” Jasmine looks surprised. “Oh, no, we were just hanging out.”
“I’m sorry.” I wince—on behalf of Dylan. “I just thought . . . I mean, you guys seem to be having fun.”
“We are,” Jasmine agrees. “He’s . . . interesting. The strong, silent type.”
I nearly laugh out loud. Dylan, silent? Ha!
“Is that not your thing?” I ask, fishing. I still have that epic love poem to compose, not to mention a letter or two declaring his undying devotion.
But Jasmine just gives a casual shrug. “I don’t know. He’s great, but . . . I’m taking some time for myself. Not rushing into anything.”
“Oh.”
I don’t understand it. If Dylan smiled at me the way he looked at her, my panties would be dropping to the floor in double-quick time.
And I know from experience that whatever happened next would be one for the history books.
“Well, this is me.” I stop beside my cabin. “Thanks for the ride back to dry land.”
“Anytime,” Jasmine smiles. “Remember, keep rubbing that algae into your skin. You’ll be glowing by the morning!”
Or maybe I could just scrub the lake off me in a nice long shower instead. I linger under the spray until my body comes back up to normal temperatures, then change into my pajamas and settle in on my front porch to write for the rest of the evening.
