by Tillie Cole
“Hey,” I said, planting my hands on her cheeks.
Poppy looked up at me. “We could have been like this if I hadn’t been silly. We could have found a way for you to come back. You could have been with me the whole time. With me. Holding me … loving me. You loving me and me loving you so fiercely.” Her voice stuttered, but she managed to finish. “I’m a thief. I stole our precious time—two years of you and me—for nothing.”
It felt like my heart physically tore as Poppy cried, gripping tightly to my arm as if frightened I would turn away. How had she not realized by now that nothing could tear me away?
“Shh,” I soothed, moving my head to rest against hers. “Breathe, baby,” I said softly. I placed Poppy’s hand over my heart, as she locked her gaze on mine. “Breathe,” I repeated and smiled as she followed the rhythm of my heart to calm herself.
I wiped her damp cheeks with my hands, melting when she sniffed, her chest jerking every so often through the sobs she’d set free. Seeing I had her attention, I said, “I won’t take the apology, because there’s nothing to apologize for. You told me that the past no longer matters. That it’s these moments that are important now.” I steeled my emotions, to say, “Our final adventure. Me, giving you chest-bursting kisses to complete your jar. And you … you just being you. Loving me. Me loving you. For infinity…” I trailed off.
I stared intently and patiently into Poppy’s eyes, smiling wide when she added, “Forever always.”
I closed my eyes, knowing I’d broken through her pain. Then when my eyes opened, Poppy giggled hoarsely.
“There she is.” I pressed one kiss onto each of the apples of her cheeks.
“Here I am,” she echoed, “so completely in love with you.”
Poppy lifted her head and kissed me. When she lay back in the seat, her eyes closed, called by sleep. I watched her for a second, before moving to shut the door. Just as the door closed, I caught Poppy whispering, “Kiss four hundred and thirty-four, with my Rune at the beach … when his love came home.”
I could see through the window that Poppy had already drifted to sleep. Her cheeks were red from crying but, even in sleep, her lips were tilted upward, giving the appearance of a smile.
I wasn’t sure how someone so perfect even existed.
Moving around to the hood of the car, I pulled my smokes out of the back pocket of my jeans and struck the lighter. I inhaled a much-needed drag. I closed my eyes as the hit of nicotine calmed me down.
I opened my eyes and stared at the sunset. The sun was fading on the horizon, flashes of orange and pink in its wake. The beach was almost empty but for the old couple I had seen before.
Only this time when I watched them, still so in love after all these years, I didn’t let myself feel grief. As I glanced back at Poppy sleeping in the car, I felt a … happiness. Me. I felt happy. I let myself feel happy even through all this hurt. Because … here I am … so completely in love with you…
She loved me.
Poppymin. My girl. She loved me.
“That’s enough,” I said to the wind. “That’s enough for right now.”
Throwing the smoke’s butt to the ground, I quietly slid into the driver’s seat and turned the key. The engine sprang to life and I drove away from the beach, sure we’d be here again.
And if we didn’t, like Poppy said, we’d had this moment. We had this memory. She had her kiss.
And I had her love.
* * *
When I pulled into her driveway, dusk had fallen, the stars beginning to wake. Poppy had slept all the way home, her light, rhythmic breathing a comforting sound as I drove us down the dark roads toward home.
Putting the car in park, I got out and walked around to her side. I opened the door as quietly as I could, undoing the seatbelt and scooping Poppy into my arms.
She felt as if she weighed nothing as she instinctively curled into my chest, her warm breath drifting over my neck. I walked to her door. As I reached the top step, the front door opened. Mr. Litchfield was standing in the hallway.
I continued forward and he moved out of my way, allowing me to carry Poppy to her bedroom. I saw Poppy’s mama and sisters sitting in the living room, watching TV.
Her mama got to her feet. “Is she okay?” she whispered.
I nodded. “She’s just tired.”
Mrs. Litchfield leaned forward and kissed Poppy’s forehead. “Sleep tight, baby,” she whispered. My chest tightened at the sight, then she nodded for me to take Poppy to her room.
I walked her down the hallway and through to her bedroom. As gently as I could, I placed her on her bed, smiling when Poppy’s arm naturally searched for me on the side of the bed in which I slept.
When Poppy’s breathing had evened out once again, I sat down on the side of her bed and ran my hand down her face. Leaning forward, I kissed her soft cheek and whispered, “I love you, Poppymin. Forever always.”
Rising from the bed, I froze when I caught sight of Mr. Litchfield in the doorway, watching … listening.
My jaw clenched as he stared me down. Inhaling a calming breath through my nose, I walked silently past him, down the hallway and back out to the car to get my camera.
I returned to the house to leave the car keys on the table in the hallway. As I entered, Mr. Litchfield walked from the living room. I stopped, rocking awkwardly until he reached out his hand for the keys.
I dropped them in his hand and went to turn to walk away. Before I could, he asked, “Did y’all have a good time?”
My shoulders tensed. Forcing myself to respond, I met his eyes and nodded. Throwing a wave to Mrs. Litchfield, Ida and Savannah, I walked out the door and down the steps. As I reached the bottom step, I heard, “She loves you too, you know.”
Mr. Litchfield’s voice brought my feet to a stop, and without looking back, I replied, “I know.”
I crossed the grass to my house. I went straight to my room and tossed the camera onto the bed. I intended to wait out the next few hours before I went to Poppy. But the more I stared at the camera bag, the more I wanted to see how the photos had turned out.
The pictures of Poppy dancing in the sea.
Without giving myself the chance to walk away, I grabbed the camera and sneaked down to the darkroom in the basement. As I reached the door and turned the knob, I flicked on the light. I sighed, a strange feeling settling within me.
Because Poppy had been right. My pappa had prepared this room for me. My equipment was exactly where it would have been two years ago. The lines and pegs were ready and waiting.
The process of developing the pictures felt as if I’d never been away. I enjoyed the familiarity of each step. Nothing was forgotten, like I had been born with the ability to do this.
Like I had been given this gift. Poppy recognized that I had needed this in my life, when I was too blinded by the past to see it.
The smell of the chemicals hit my nose. An hour passed, and I eventually stood back, the pictures on their pegs forming into shapes, second by second revealing the moment caught on film.
The red light didn’t stop me from seeing the wonders that I’d captured. As I walked along the lines of hanging images, of life in its glory, I couldn’t stave off the excitement burning in my chest. I couldn’t stop the smile—for this work—playing on my lips.
Then I stopped.
I stopped at a picture that held me captive. Poppy, holding on to the hem of her dress, dancing in the shallow water. Poppy, with a carefree smile and windblown hair, laughing wholeheartedly. Her eyes bright and her skin flushed as she looked over her shoulder, right at me. The sun lighting her face in an angle so pure and beautiful it was as if it was a spotlight on her happiness, attracted by her magnetic joy.
I lifted my hand, keeping it a centimeter away from the picture, and traced my finger over her beaming face, over her soft lips and rosy cheeks. And I felt it. Felt the overwhelming passion for this craft burst back to life inside me. This picture. This one picture cemented what I had secretly
known all along.
I was meant to do this with my life.
It made sense that this picture brought this message home—it was of the girl that was my home. A knock sounded at the door, and without taking my gaze from the picture, I answered, “Ja?”
The door opened slowly. I felt who it was before I looked. My pappa entered the darkroom, by only a few steps. I looked at him, but I had to turn away again at the expression on his face, as he drank in all the pictures hanging from the pegs across the room.
I didn’t want to confront what that feeling in my stomach meant. Not yet.
Minutes passed by in silence, before my pappa said softly, “She’s absolutely beautiful, son.” My chest constricted when I saw his eyes on the photo that I was still standing before.
I didn’t respond. My pappa stood awkwardly in the doorway, saying nothing else. Finally, he moved to leave. As he went to shut the door, I forced myself to say a sharp, “Thank you … for the camera.”
In my peripheral vision, I saw my pappa pause. I heard a slow, ragged intake of breath, then he replied, “You have nothing to thank me for, son. Nothing at all.”
With that he left me in my darkroom.
I stayed longer than I intended, replaying my pappa’s response in my mind.
Clutching two photographs in my hands, I climbed the steps of the basement and headed for my room. As I passed the open door of Alton’s bedroom, I saw him sitting on his bed, watching TV.
He hadn’t seen me, standing there in his doorway, and I carried on to my room. But as I heard him laugh at whatever he was watching, my feet stuck to the floor, and I made myself turn back.
As I entered his room, Alton turned to me, and in a move that made me feel a crack in my chest, the biggest smile spread on his cute face.
“Hei, Rune,” he said quietly, and he sat further up in bed.
“Hei,” I replied. I walked toward his bed and nodded toward the TV. “What are you watching?”
Alton looked at the TV, then back to me. “Swamp Monsters.” His head tipped to the side, and then he pushed his long hair from his face. Something in my stomach tugged as he did. “You want to watch it with me for a while?” Alton asked nervously, then dropped his head.
I could tell he thought I would say no. Surprising both him and myself, I replied, “Sure.”
Alton’s blue eyes widened to the size of saucers. He lay stiffly on his bed. When I stepped forward, he shuffled to the side of the narrow mattress.
I lay down beside him, kicking up my feet. Then Alton leaned against my side and continued watching his show. I watched it with him, only looking away when I caught him staring up at me.
When I met his eyes, his cheeks flushed with red and he said, “I like you watching this with me, Rune.”
Breathing through the unfamiliar feeling his words brought out, I ruffled his long hair and replied, “Me too, Alt. I like this too.”
Alton leaned back against my side. He lay there until he fell asleep, the timer on his TV kicking in and plunging the room into darkness.
Rising off the bed, I passed my mamma, who had been watching silently from the hallway. I nodded my head at her as I entered my room, turning and shutting the door behind me. I flipped the lock, placed one of the photos on the desk, and climbed through my window and ran across to Poppy’s.
When I entered her room, Poppy was still sleeping. Taking off my shirt, I walked around the side of her bed to where she slept. I placed the photo of us kissing by the water on her pillow, for her to see as soon as she woke up.
I climbed into her bed, Poppy automatically finding me in the dark, laying her head against my chest and wrapping her arm around my waist.
Four footprints in the sand.
Poppy
Three Months Later
“Where’s my Poppy-girl?”
I wiped sleep from my eyes, sitting up on my bed, excitement zipping through me at the sound of a voice I loved.
“Aunt DeeDee?” I whispered to myself. I tried to listen harder, making sure I really had heard her voice. Muffled voices came from the hallway, then suddenly the door flew open. I rose on my arms, the darn things shaking after I pushed my weakening muscles too far.
I lay back down as Aunt DeeDee appeared in the doorway. Her dark hair was pulled into a bun, and she was wearing her flight attendant uniform. Her makeup was perfectly in place, as was her infectious smile.
Her green eyes softened when they landed on me. “There she is,” she said gently, walking to my bed. She sat down on the edge of the mattress and leaned down to wrap me in her arms.
“What are you doing here, DeeDee?”
My aunt smoothed my hair back from its sleep-induced disarray and whispered conspiringly, “Blowing you from this joint.”
My eyebrows drew together in confusion. Aunt DeeDee had spent Christmas and New Year with us, and then a whole week with us, just two weeks ago. I knew she had a busy schedule over the next month.
Which was why I was so confused about her being back now.
“I don’t understand,” I said, swinging my legs off the mattress. For the past few days I had mostly been stuck in bed. After my hospital check-up at the beginning of the week, we found my white blood cell count was too low. I had been given blood and medication to help. And it had helped some, but it made me tired for a few days. Kept me inside so infections were kept at bay. My doctors had wanted me to stay in the hospital, but I’d refused. I wasn’t missing a second of my life by being back in that place. Not now that I could see that my cancer was increasing its grip on me. Every second was becoming more and more precious.
Home was my happy place.
Having Rune beside me, kissing me sweetly, was my safety.
It was all I needed.
Glancing at the clock, I saw it was nearing four p.m.. Rune would be around soon. I had made him attend school these past few days. He hadn’t wanted to go if I couldn’t. But this was his senior year. He needed the grades to get into college. Even though he protested that right now he didn’t care.
And that was okay. Because I would care for the both of us. I wouldn’t let him put his life on hold for me.
Aunt DeeDee jumped to her feet. “Okay, Poppy-girl, jump in the shower. We have an hour before we have to set off.” She looked at my hair. “Don’t bother washing your hair, I got a girl that can take care of that when we get there.”
I shook my head, about to ask more questions, but my aunt swept out of my bedroom. I got to my feet, stretching out my muscles. Taking in a deep breath, I closed my eyes and smiled. I felt better than I had these past few days. Felt a little stronger.
Strong enough to leave the house.
Grabbing my towel, I made quick work of having a shower. I applied a light layer of makeup. I tied my unwashed hair back in a side bun, my white bow firmly in place. I dressed in a hunter-green dress, sliding a white sweater over the top.
I was placing my infinity earring in my earlobe when my bedroom door suddenly opened. I caught the buzz of raised voices, my daddy’s voice in particular.
Turning my head, I smiled when Rune entered, his blue eyes immediately colliding with mine. Searching, checking, before brightening with relief.
Rune silently cut across the room, only stopping when he had threaded his arms around my shoulders and pulled me to his chest. I let my arms hold his waist and breathed in his fresh scent.
“You look better,” Rune said above me.
I held him a little tighter. “I feel better.”
Rune stepped back and placed his hands on my face. He searched my eyes, before his lip curled up and he pressed the sweetest of soft kisses to my mouth. When we broke away, he sighed. “I’m glad. I was worried that we wouldn’t be able to go.”
“Where?” I asked, my heart kicking into a steady run.
This time Rune smiled and, moving his mouth to my ear, announced, “On another adventure.”
My racing heart increased to a gallop. “Another adventure?”
With no more explanation, Rune led me out of my bedroom. His hand, so tightly gripping mine, was the only indication he gave of how concerned he had been over the past few days.
I knew though. I saw the fear in his eyes every time I moved in bed and he asked if I was okay. Every time he sat with me after school, watching me, studying me … waiting. Waiting to see if this was it.
He was petrified.
The progression of my cancer didn’t frighten me. The pain and the near future didn’t scare me. But seeing Rune look at me this way, so desolate, so desperate, had begun to make me afraid. I loved him so much, and I could see he loved me beyond measure. But this love, this soul-searing connection, had begun to anchor the heart I had set free to this life.
I had never feared death. My faith was strong; I knew there was a life after this. But now fear had started to creep into my consciousness. Fear of leaving Rune. Fear of his absence … fear of not feeling his arms around me and his kisses on my lips.
Rune glanced back as if sensing my heart beginning to tear. I nodded. I wasn’t sure I had been convincing; I still detected concern in his expression.
“She isn’t going!” My daddy’s forceful voice carried down the hallway. Rune pulled me to his side, lifting his arm until I was safely underneath. When we arrived at the doorway, my mama, daddy and Aunt DeeDee were standing at the mouth of the living room.
My daddy’s face was red. My aunt had her arms crossed over her chest. My mama ran her hand down my daddy’s back, attempting to calm him.
My daddy lifted his head. He forced a smile. “Poppy,” he said and came closer. Rune didn’t let go of me. My daddy picked this up and shot him a glare that should have eviscerated him on the spot.
Rune didn’t even flinch.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, reaching for my daddy’s hand.
My touch seemed to have rendered him speechless. I glanced at my mama. “Mama?”
Mama stepped forward. “It’s been planned since your aunt came a few weeks ago.” I looked to Aunt DeeDee, who smiled mischievously.
“Rune here planned to take you away. He asked your aunt to help plan it.” Mama sighed. “We never expected your levels to fall this soon.” Mama placed her hand on my daddy’s arm. “Your daddy doesn’t think you should go.”
