by Tillie Cole
Poppy giggled at something else Jorie said. Her laugh was so hard she knocked the camera hanging around my neck to the side. Poppy flashed me an apologetic smile. I leaned down, tilted her chin toward me with my finger and kissed her on the lips. I only meant for it to be swift and soft, but when Poppy’s hand threaded into my hair, pulling me closer, it became more. As Poppy opened her lips, I pushed my tongue to meet hers, losing my breath as I did.
Poppy’s fingers tightened in my hair. I cupped her cheek to keep her in this kiss as long as possible. If I didn’t have to breathe, I imagine I would never have stopped kissing her.
Too lost in the kiss, we only broke apart when someone cleared their throat from across the fire. I lifted my head to find Judson smirking. When I glanced down at Poppy, her cheeks were blazing. Our friends hid their laughter, and I squeezed Poppy tighter. I wouldn’t be embarrassed for kissing my girl.
Conversation picked back up again, and I lifted my camera to check it was okay. My mamma and pappa bought it for me for my thirteenth birthday, when they could see that photography was becoming my passion. It was a 1960s vintage Canon. I took it with me everywhere, snapping thousands of pictures. I didn’t know why, but capturing moments fascinated me. Maybe it was because sometimes all we get are moments. There are no do-overs; whatever happens in a moment defines life—perhaps it is life. But capturing a moment on film keeps that moment alive, forever. To me, photography was magic.
I mentally scrolled through the camera roll. Pictures of wildlife and close-ups of cherry blossoms from the grove would occupy most of the film. Then there’d be photos of Poppy tonight. Her pretty face as the music took its hold. I’d only ever seen that look on her face one other time—when she looked at me. To Poppy, I was as special to her as her music was.
In both cases, a bond that no one could break.
Reaching for my cell, I lifted it out in front of us, the camera lens facing our direction. Poppy was no longer taking part in the conversation around us. She was silently running her fingertips along my arm. Catching her off-guard, I snapped the picture, just as she looked up at me. I let out a single laugh when her eyes narrowed in annoyance. I knew she wasn’t angry though, despite her effort to look so. Poppy loved any picture of us I took, even if it was taken when she least expected it.
When I focused on my cell, my heart immediately started slamming against my chest. In the picture, as Poppy stared up at me, she looked beautiful. But it was the expression on her face that floored me. The look in her green eyes.
In this moment, this single captured moment, there was that expression. The one she gave to me as readily as she gave to her music. The one that told me I had her just as much as she had me. The one that ensured we had stayed together all these years. The one that said even though we were young, we knew we’d found our soulmate in the other.
“Let me see?”
Poppy’s quiet voice pulled my attention from the screen. She smiled at me and I lowered the phone to let her see.
I watched Poppy, not the picture, as her gaze fell upon the screen. I watched as her eyes softened and a whisper of a smile ghosted on her lips. “Rune,” she whispered, as she reached down to take hold of my free hand.
I squeezed her hand and she said, “I want a copy of that one. It’s perfect.” I nodded and kissed her head.
And this is why I love photography, I thought. It could pull out emotion, raw emotion, from a split second in time.
Turning off my phone’s camera, I saw the time displayed on the screen. “Poppymin,” I said quietly, “we have to head home. It’s getting late.”
Poppy nodded. I got to my feet and pulled her upright.
“You heading out?” Judson asked.
I nodded. “Yeah. I’ll catch you Monday.”
I threw them all a wave and took hold of Poppy’s hand. We didn’t say much as we made our way home. When we stopped at Poppy’s door, I took her in my arms and pulled her to my chest. I placed my hand on the side of her neck. Poppy looked up. “I’m so proud of you, Poppymin. There’s no doubt that you’ll get into Julliard. Your dream of playing at Carnegie Hall will come true.”
Poppy smiled brightly and tugged on the camera strap around my neck. “And you’ll be at Tisch School of the Arts at NYU. We’ll be in New York together, like it was always meant to be. Like we’ve always planned.”
I nodded my head and brushed my lips along her cheek. “Then there would be no more curfew,” I muttered teasingly. Poppy laughed. Moving to her mouth, I pressed a soft kiss to her lips and backed away.
As I let go of her hands, Mr. Litchfield opened the door. He saw me moving away from his daughter and shook his head, laughing. He knew exactly what we’d been doing.
“Night, Rune,” he said dryly.
“Night, Mr. Litchfield,” I replied, seeing Poppy blush as her daddy gestured for her to go inside.
I walked across the grass to my house. I opened the door, walked through to the living room and found my parents sitting on the couch. They were both sitting forward in their seats, and they seemed tense.
“Hei,” I said, and my mamma’s head snapped up.
“Hei, baby,” she said.
I frowned. “What’s wrong?” I asked. My mamma shot a glance at my pappa.
She shook her head. “Nothing, baby. Did Poppy play well? Sorry we couldn’t make it.”
I stared at my parents. They were hiding something, I could tell. When they didn’t continue, I slowly nodded my head, answering their question. “She was perfect, as always.”
I thought I glimpsed tears in my mamma’s eyes, but she quickly blinked them away. Needing to escape the awkwardness, I held up my camera. “I’m going to develop these then go to bed.”
As I turned to walk away, my pappa said, “We’re going out as a family tomorrow, Rune.”
I stopped dead. “I can’t come. I’ve planned to spend the day with Poppy.”
My pappa shook his head. “Not tomorrow, Rune.”
“But—” I went to argue, but my pappa cut me off, his voice stern.
“I said no. You’re coming, that’s final. Poppy can see you when we get back. We won’t be gone all day.”
“What’s really going on?”
My pappa walked to stand before me. He put a hand on my shoulder. “Nothing, Rune. I just never see you anymore because of work. I want to change that, so we’re having a day out at the beach.”
“Well then, can Poppy come with us? She loves the beach. It’s her second-favorite place to go.”
“Not tomorrow, son.”
I stayed silent, getting pissed, but I could see he wasn’t going to budge. Pappa sighed. “Go develop your pictures, Rune, and stop worrying.”
Doing as he said, I walked down to the basement and into the small side room my pappa had converted into a darkroom for me. I still developed film in the old style instead of using a digital camera. I thought it made for a better result.
After twenty minutes, I stepped back from the line of new pictures. I had also printed the photo from my phone, of Poppy and me at the field. I picked it up and carried it to my bedroom. I stuck my head into Alton’s room as I passed, checking my two-year-old brother was sleeping. He was, curled up tight to his brown stuffed bear, his messy blond hair spread out over his pillow.
I pushed through my door and turned on my lamp. I looked at the clock, registering it was near midnight. Running my hand through my hair, I made my way to the window, and smiled when I saw the Litchfield house in darkness, save for the dim light from Poppy’s nightlight—Poppy’s sign that the coast was clear for me to sneak in.
I locked my bedroom door and switched off the lamp. The room was plunged into darkness. I quickly changed into my sleep pants and shirt. Silently, I lifted the window and climbed out. I sprinted across the grass between our two houses and crawled inside Poppy’s room, closing the window as quietly as I could.
Poppy was in bed, tucked under the covers. Her eyes were closed and her breathing wa
s soft and even. Smiling at how cute she looked with her cheek resting in her hand, I padded over, placed her present on the nightstand and climbed in beside her.
I lay beside her, my head dropping to share her pillow.
We’d done this for years. The first night I stayed over was a mistake; I climbed into her room, at age twelve, to talk, but I fell asleep. Fortunately, I woke early enough the next morning to sneak back into my own bedroom unnoticed. But then the next night, I stayed on purpose, then the night after that, and almost every night since. Luckily we’d never been found out. I wasn’t too sure Mr. Litchfield would like me the same if he knew I slept in his daughter’s bed.
But staying beside Poppy in bed was becoming more and more difficult. Now I was fifteen, I felt differently around her. I saw her differently. And I knew she did me. We kissed more and more. The kisses were getting deeper, our hands starting to explore places they shouldn’t. It was getting harder and harder to stop. I wanted more. I wanted my girl in every possible way.
But we were young. I knew that.
It didn’t make it any less difficult though.
Poppy stirred beside me. “I wondered if you were coming tonight. I waited for you but you weren’t in your room,” she said sleepily as she pushed my hair from my face.
Capturing her hand, I kissed her palm. “I had to develop my film, and my parents were acting weird.”
“Weird? How?” she asked, shuffling closer and kissing my cheek.
I shook my head. “Just … weird. I think something’s going on, but they told me not to worry.”
Even in the dim light I could see Poppy’s eyebrows were pulled together in concern. I squeezed her hand in reassurance.
Remembering the present I’d brought her, I reached behind me and took the picture from the nightstand. I’d put it in a simple silver frame. I tapped the flashlight icon on my phone and held it up so Poppy could see better.
She gave a small sigh and I watched as a smile lit up her entire face. She took hold of the frame and stroked her finger across the glass. “I love this picture, Rune,” she whispered, then placed it on her nightstand. She gazed at it for a few moments, then turned back my way.
Poppy lifted the covers and held them high so I could shuffle underneath. I laid my arm over Poppy’s waist and moved closer to her face, peppering soft kisses over her cheeks and neck.
When I kissed the spot just below her ear, Poppy began to giggle and pulled away. “Rune!” she whispered, “that tickles!”
I drew back and threaded my hand through hers.
“So,” Poppy asked, lifting her other hand to play with a long strand of my hair, “what are we doing tomorrow?”
Rolling my eyes, I replied, “We’re not, my pappa is making us go out as a family for the day. To the beach.”
Poppy sat up excitedly. “Really? I love the beach!”
My stomach dropped. “He said we have to go alone, Poppymin. Just the family.”
“Oh,” Poppy said, sounding disappointed. She lay back down on the bed. “Have I done something wrong? Your pappa always invites me along with y’all.”
“No,” I assured her. “It’s what I was saying before. They’re acting strange. He said he wants us to spend the day as a family, but I think there’s something else.”
“Okay,” Poppy said, but I could hear the sad tone in her voice.
I cupped her head in my hand and promised, “I’ll be back for dinner. We’ll spend tomorrow night together.”
She took hold of my wrist. “Good.”
Poppy stared at me, her green eyes wide in the dull light. I stroked my hand along her hair. “You’re so beautiful, Poppymin.”
I didn’t need the light to see the blush coating her cheeks. I closed the small space between us and crushed my lips against hers. Poppy sighed as I pushed my tongue into her mouth, her hands moving to grip onto my hair.
It felt too good, Poppy’s mouth growing hotter and hotter the more we kissed, my hands dropping to run down her bare arms and down over her waist.
Poppy shifted onto her back as my hand slipped down to touch her leg. I followed and moved above her, Poppy snapping her mouth from mine with a gasp. But I didn’t stop kissing her. I dragged my lips over her jaw to kiss along her neck, my hand moving beneath her nightdress to stroke the soft skin of her waist.
Poppy’s fingers pulled at my hair, and her leg lifted to wrap around the back of my thigh. I groaned against her throat, moving back up to take her mouth with mine. As my tongue slid against hers, I traced my fingers further up her body. Poppy broke from the kiss.
“Rune…”
I dropped my head to the crook between her neck and shoulder, breathing deeply. I wanted her so much it was almost too much to take.
I breathed in and out as Poppy dropped her hand to stroke up and down my back. I focused on the rhythm of her fingers, forcing myself to calm down.
Minutes and minutes passed, but I didn’t move. I was content lying over Poppy, breathing in her delicate scent, my hand pressing against her soft stomach.
“Rune?” Poppy whispered. I lifted my head.
Poppy’s hand was immediately on my cheek. “Baby?” she whispered, and I could hear the worry in her voice.
“I’m okay,” I whispered back, keeping my voice as quiet as possible so as not to disturb her parents. I looked deep into her eyes. “I just want you so damn much.” I dropped my forehead to hers and added, “When we’re like this, when we let it get this far, I kind of lose my mind.”
Poppy’s fingers threaded through my hair and I closed my eyes, loving her touch. “I’m sorry, I—”
“No,” I said forcefully, a little louder than intended. I shifted back. Poppy’s eyes were huge. “Don’t. Don’t ever apologize for this, for stopping me. It’s never something you have to be sorry for.”
Poppy parted her kiss-swollen lips and let out a long sigh. “Thank you,” she whispered. I moved my hand and lowered my fingers to link them through hers.
Shifting to the side, I opened my arm and flicked my head for her to come to me. She laid her head on my chest. I closed my eyes and just worked on breathing.
Eventually, sleep began to take me. Poppy’s finger traced up and down my stomach. I had almost drifted off when Poppy whispered, “You’re my everything, Rune Kristiansen, I hope you know that.”
My eyes snapped open at her words, my chest feeling full. Placing my finger under her chin, I tipped her head upward. Her mouth was waiting for my kiss.
I kissed her gently, softly, and slowly withdrew. Poppy’s eyes remained closed as she smiled. Feeling like my chest would explode at the contented look on her face, I whispered, “For infinity.”
Poppy snuggled back into my chest and whispered back, “Forever always.”
And we both fell asleep.
Rune
“Rune, we need to talk to you,” my pappa said, as we ate our lunch in the restaurant overlooking the beach.
“Are you getting divorced?”
Pappa’s face paled. “God, no, Rune,” he assured me quickly and took hold of my mamma’s hand for emphasis. My mamma smiled at me, but I could see the tears building in her eyes.
“Then what?” I asked. My pappa slowly leaned back in his chair.
“Your mamma has been upset with my job, Rune, not with me.” I was completely confused, until he said, “They’re transferring me back to Oslo, Rune. The company has hit a glitch there and I’m being sent back to fix it.”
“How long for?” I asked. “When will you be back?”
My pappa ran his hand through his thick, short blond hair, just the way I did. “Here’s the thing, Rune,” he said cautiously. “It could be years. It could be months.” He sighed. “Realistically, anything from one to three years.”
My eyes widened. “You’re leaving us here in Georgia for that long?”
My mamma reached out her hand and covered mine with hers. I stared blankly at it. Then the true consequences of what Pappa was saying bega
n seeping into my brain. “No,” I said under my breath, knowing he wouldn’t do this to me. Couldn’t do this to me.
I looked up. I saw guilt wash all over his face.
I knew it was true.
I understood now. Why we came to the beach. Why he wanted us to be alone. Why he refused Poppy’s company.
My heart was sprinting as my hands fidgeted on the table. My mind span in circles … they wouldn’t … he wouldn’t … I wouldn’t!
“No,” I spat out, louder, drawing stares from nearby tables. “I’m not going. I’m not leaving her.”
I turned to my mamma for help, but she lowered her head. I snatched back my hand from under hers. “Mamma?” I pleaded, but she slowly shook her head.
“We’re a family, Rune. We’re not being split up for that long. We have to go. We’re a family.”
“No!” I shouted this time, pushing my chair back from the table. I got to my feet, my fists clenched at my sides. “I won’t leave her! You can’t make me! This is our home. Here! I don’t want to go back to Oslo!”
“Rune,” my pappa said, placatingly, standing up from the table and holding out his hands. But I couldn’t be in this closed space, with him. Turning on my heel, I ran out of the restaurant as fast as I could and headed down onto the beach. The sun had disappeared behind thick clouds, causing a cold wind to whip up the sand. I kept running, heading for the dunes, the coarse grains hitting my face.
As I ran, I tried to fight against the anger ripping through me. How could they do this to me? They know how much I need Poppy.
I was shaking with anger as I climbed the tallest dune and dropped down to sit on its peak. I lay back, staring at the graying sky, and pictured a life back in Norway without her. I felt sick. Sick at just the thought of not having her by my side, holding my hand, kissing my lips…
I could barely breathe.
My mind raced, searching for ideas of how I could stay. I thought and I thought of every possibility, but I knew my pappa. When he decided on something, nothing would change his mind. I was going; the look on his face had told me clearly that there was no way out. They were taking me from my girl, my soul. And I couldn’t do a damn thing about it.
