Poppies for Christmas

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Poppies for Christmas Page 18

by Stacy Renée Keywell


  Terry nodded at her husband, and rolled her narrow eyes.

  “Thank goodness all of our kids came out normal. I couldn’t handle a son like that. I feel really, really bad for his parents. How they hold their heads high and keep on going I’ll never comprehend.”

  “You’ve got to count your blessings,” his wife snorted.

  They clicked their tongues, and shook their heads, grateful Debbie and Dereck’s fate was not their own.

  I backed away from Declan’s cousins, disgusted. I walked over to the steps to chase down Declan. I reached the bottom of the stairs. A pair of strong arms grabbed me, and pulled me into a dark corner. Declan stood above me, his body shaking. Tears dripped down his quivering lip.

  “Ya-ya-ou g-g-g-o-o-o-t t-t-t-o h-h-h-e-e-e-lp m-m-m-e-e-e! Ya-ya-ou g-g-g-o-o-o-t t-t-t-o g-g-g-o-o-o a-a-after P-o-o-o-ppy f-f-f-o-o-o-r m-m-m-e-e-e!” he insisted.

  “Me?” I gulped. “She’s not going to want to see me. She’s going to want to talk to you.”

  “N-N-N-o-o-o, b-b-b-e-lieve m-m-m-e-e-e, s-h-h-h-e-e-e’s g-g-g-o-o-o-ing t-t-t-o b-b-b-e-e-e m-m-m-a-a-a-d! S-h-h-h-e-e-e’s u-u-u-p-p-p-set. I-I-I c-c-c-a-a-an’t l-l-l-o-o-o-se h-h-h-e-e-e-r. P-P-P-lease! I-I-I d-d-d-o-o-o-n’t w-w-w-a-a-a-nt h-h-h-e-e-e-r t-t-t-o b-b-b-reak u-u-u-p w-w-w-i-i-i-th m-m-m-e-e-e, or l-l-l-e-e-e-ave m-m-m-e-e-e.”

  “Nonsense! She would never break up with you,” I heard myself reassure him. “Why would she do that? On Christmas Eve?”

  “B-B-B-e-e-e-cause I-I-I c-c-c-o-o-o-uldn’t d-d-d-e-e-e-fend h-h-h-e-e-e-r. T-h-h-h-i-i-i-s m-m-m-i-i-i-ght f-f-f-o-o-o-il m-m-m-y p-p-p-l-l-l-a-a-a-ns. S-h-h-e-e-e m-m-m-i-i-i-ght n-n-n-o-o-o-t w-w-w-a-a-a-nt t-t-t-o m-m-m-a-a-a-rry m-m-m-e-e-e!” Declan wrung his hands, and blinked furiously.

  “You’re getting married?”

  I coughed in his face. I choked on my words. This worried me!

  “N-N-N-o-o-o-t n-n-n-o-o-o-w.”

  Phew!

  Declan firmly pushed me up the stairs with his large hands. He had the strength of a bodybuilder.

  “H-H-H-u-u-u-rry! S-h-h-e-e-e’s r-r-r-e-e-e-ally s-s-s-a-a-a-d.” He urged me over to Poppy’s guestroom.

  I stood in front of the closed door. I took a deep breath, and gathered my thoughts. Declan nodded wildly at me from the shadows. He sucked up a long strand of anxious drool back into his mouth. His arms flapped, and his fingers wiggled. I rapped on the door lightly with my fist.

  “Go away, Declan,” Poppy’s voice muttered from the other side of the door.

  “It’s not Declan. It’s Dexx. Can I come in? Please?”

  “Fine,” she snapped.

  I opened the door. I found a lump in the center of the bed. It hid the sad girl under the comforter. Poppy crawled out from under the covers. Makeup streaked down her face from crying. Her hair flew about, pulled out of place. She frowned. Her lip quivered like a frustrated baby. She looked beautiful.

  “See?” she wept, and sniffled, dabbing her eyes with a tissue. “See what happens when you make a meaningful speech? Everybody in the room agrees with what you are saying. Find it in their hearts to change. Then, a second after you take a breath, and end the speech, they revert back to their deplorable behavior, the moment the sermon ends. Typical! That’s why . . . that’s why I’m starting this project, early! I believe in love without labels. Or else it’s just . . . ‘Oh, they’re the family with the autistic son,’ or ‘she’s the one with the lame friend,’ or ‘he’s the one with the fat Jewish friend with the buckteeth,’ or ‘he’s the one with the snobby sister,’ or ‘he’s, he’s such a . . .” her voice faded. She pointed at me. “Oh, never mind.” Her arms dropped to her side. She sat up on the bed.

  I slowly moved into the room. I sat down beside her on the bed. I didn’t know what to say.

  “Some people do not really like me, because, I’m different. I’m not popular. I’m not super skinny. I’m not a model. I’m not all that perfect,” Poppy confessed.

  “Me neither,” I admitted. “Maybe the less than perfect can form a support group.”

  Poppy laughed. My heart pounded, and my mouth dried up.

  “I feel bad? You know? Declan is out there, upset. I hate to disappoint him. His parents have always been super nice to me, and I have been coming here to celebrate Christmas every year since I was in kindergarten. But, that side of the family has never been very nice to me. I wish I could avoid them. When I heard they were coming this year, I was tempted to stay home. But, I couldn’t. I had to come, for Declan. Christmas is his absolute favorite holiday, and I would just die if I broke his heart. But with people like his cousins in this world, I feel like I can never do anything right around here.”

  “Ya-ya-ou c-c-c-o-o-o-uld n-n-n-e-e-e-ver d-d-d-o-o-o a-a-a-nything w-w-w-r-r-ro-o-o-ng i-i-i-n m-m-m-y o-p-p-p-inion.” Declan had been listening all along in the hallway. “Ya-ya-ou a-a-a-r-r-r-e p-p-p-e-e-e-rfect, a-a-a-n-n-n-d-d-d I-I-I d-d-d-o-o-o-n’t c-c-c-a-a-a-re w-h-h-h-a-a-a-t a-a-a-nyone s-s-s-a-a-a-ys! I-I-I l-l-l-o-o-o-ve ya-ya-ou!”

  Poppy sniffed. She wiped her eyes and ran into Declan’s arms. They embraced for what seemed like forever. Endless and endless time. Their heads tucked into each other’s shoulders.

  I felt super awkward. The pit of my stomach grumbled, not from hunger, but from loneliness. Their affection reminded me that I was still single. I got up off the bed, and went back downstairs.

  Chapter 19

  Denver

  My dad wound down his speech. I smiled. I looked around the room for Dexx. I couldn’t spot him. Too many people rushed toward my parents to thank them for their hospitality. I remained by the roaring fire. It fueled a sense of lostness. Longingful hopes pitter-pattered inside my heart. Oh Dexx, I thought, Where are you now?

  “Oh my gosh, Denver, you look so super skinny! Have you lost more weight?”

  With a sudden sneak attack, my cousin Meg pounced on me, eager to bombard me with rude insults. She adored it when I squirmed from her uncomfortable questions. It was like a sport, and thank goodness she was athletic. Her bleached blonde pageboy bounced as she talked. She intentionally let the dark roots grow at the top, and colored the fringe at the bottom tree green for the holiday. She pushed her horsey face close enough to mine to see the insides of her flaring nostrils, and smell her old chewing gum breath mixed with too much onion dip.

  I craned my neck to see if I could spot Dexx in the room to save me.

  “You are wasting away, girl! You are the tiniest waif I’ve ever seen! Is there any skin on those bones, Den? Geeze,” Meg chortled.

  I looked down at my body. I didn’t feel any different.

  “My parents would never let my weight drop that low, cuz. They would drag me to the doctor’s office, or a clinic, or something before I developed an eating disorder. But, you are a model, right? Like your brother? I imagine people in that industry starve themselves to death, a lot, like all the time.”

  I cringed. I wrapped my arms around myself, hiding my torso.

  Meg proudly showed off her athletic build in a shiny green shirt that resembled a leotard. I expected her to run in the middle of the room, do a cartwheel, and stand on my couch to accept a gold medal in insultnastics.

  “I don’t starve myself.” I weakly defended myself. “I eat quite a bit, actually. Tons, if fact.”

  “Oh, adorbs, Denver, you finally got a boyfriend! How super nice for you. How does it finally feel to have a guy like you? Are you super excited to finally have a man? I mean, you are, what, a junior in high school, already?”

  Amber joined her sister Meg to add to the taunting fun. She too wore her hair in an adorable pageboy which I could never pull off, but went for the brunette look like her mom. Both of my cousins had long-term boyfriends. They both excelled in sports, won academic scholarships, covered their walls in ribbons and trophies, and n
ever let me or my family forget how much better they were than me, a mere mediocre mortal.

  “Well,” I studied an invisible spot on the floor, nervously perspiring in my fresh, new clothes, “actually, he’s just a friend.”

  “Hmm,” Amber stared at me directly in the eyes to monitor my expression. “Well, you are a model, after all! Right? Just like your brother. So, it shouldn’t be too hard for you to find your first boyfriend, eventually. Declan seems to always have a girlfriend. So, yeah.”

  I sighed heavily.

  “By the way,” Meg piggybacked on Amber’s jabs, “how is that going for you? Your modeling career? Since, you know, your brother is so extremely successful. Get any new jobs lately? A stick like you should have sooo many offers!”

  I gulped. I hadn’t really booked anything lately, and had only signed up for a few gigs to begin with. It was a competitive industry. So many people trying for so few jobs. Everyone out there was beautiful and talented. The kids at school thought I was some big super model like Declan, but truthfully I was only featured in a couple local ads. I loathed that question! Some of the people who asked did it because they cared, others to make quaint conversation, but most asked to rub in my face how unsuccessful I was compared to my brother. It stung every time.

  “Fine. It’s coming along.”

  “Any new jobs?” Meg piped in with a snarky smirk, “Maybe your brother could help you out a bit. Have you ever asked?”

  “It doesn’t actually work that way,” I mumbled. Declan couldn’t help me if he tried. Expressing my attributes verbally to a booking agent wasn’t his forte.

  “Too bad,” they said uniformly.

  “Yep. Excuse me, please, I need to go find my friend.”

  As I left my cousins, I could hear them babble.

  “Oh well. She’s not very successful anyway,” one said to the other.

  “Obviously. She lacks whatever spark her brother possesses.”

  “Yeah, and who in the world knows how he got it. He’s a hot mess! He’s barely able to talk! How in the heck does he function in society?”

  “And that guy, the one that Denver brought to the party, he’s probably not that interested in her anyway. I bet he’s using her.”

  “He’ll probably dump her before New Year’s.”

  “I feel so bad for Denver and Declan.”

  “Me too. I would not want to change places with either of them, or walk so much as an inch in their designer boots.”

  “Must be tough. I bet their parents are, like, sad and super disappointed.”

  “Embarrassed.”

  “Totally.

  “Totally.”

  My stomach tossed and turned in an ocean of queasy. It was like being linguistically punched in the gut. Just like being in elementary school all over again. People were so incredibly mean to me. The cruel taunts and torments were unbearable, for both my brother and me.

  My eye caught the tail end of Dexx running up the stairs. Maybe they were right. I was a failure, and nobody liked me.

  I found my favorite couch, and sunk deep into the cushion. I stuffed a few handfuls of trail mix in my mouth. I crunched angrily.

  One of my little cousins, Leila, rolled around the floor with her brother Peter. They wrestled over a small piece of chocolate. Little Peter snatched the treat from Leila’s hand, and ran away. She turned to me, and gave me a teenagery look.

  “Men,” she shrugged. “Men are such coo-coo heads.” She giggled and trotted away.

  I chuckled to myself. Leila was right. Men were such coo-coo heads. I had to remember that tidbit. Dexx left me to fend for myself the one occasion I actually needed him the most to cushion the verbal blow, and protect me the way Poppy protected Declan. I needed his bravery.

  Out of the corner of my eye I spotted Dexx marching down the steps. A raging river of relief washed over my nerves, calming them. Our gazes met. I leapt off the couch to greet him. “Where did you run off to? I lost sight of you, and poof, you were gone.” I twisted the ring around my finger.

  “Your brother was having some troubles, a small crisis. He asked me for some help. So, I went upstairs for a moment to assist him.”

  “Wow. That was really nice of you. I’m surprised,” I accidentally blurted out.

  “Why?” Dexx asked, hurt in his voice. “Why wouldn’t you expect me to help your brother?”

  “No reason.” My face flushed red. “You only just met him. So, I . . . didn’t . . . think my brother felt comfortable enough to ask you for help.” Good save, I thought.

  “Huh! That makes sense, um, sorry I jumped down your throat about it.”

  “It’s all right. Anyway, what was it that my brother wanted you to do?”

  “He . . . he wanted me to talk to Poppy for him.”

  “Oh.”

  I stood there for a moment. My stomach plummeted at the mention of Poppy and Dexx spending alone time, together, talking, in private.

  “It was only because she . . . she felt sad. Some cousin of yours, Larry, or Terry, or someone, was quite mean, and insulted her to her face. And then, behind her back, as she left, they fired a few more bombs within earshot. She ran off crying. Declan needed a voice of reason to help calm her down.”

  “I know how she feels.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, my other cousins, from that same family, jumped at the chance to attack me too. I also got hit by the mega insult train, smack in the face. Ouch!”

  I held my cheek, and snickered bitterly.

  “I wish I had been there to defend you,” Dexx said with complete seriousness, and utter sincerity.

  “Thanks.” A ball of sun and butterflies burst inside my belly. I placed my hand gently on his shoulder. “I wish you had been there too.”

  “Well, there’s always next time. Not that I want a next time. But, you know what I mean. I’ll try not to leave you alone.” He smiled.

  “Deal,” I laughed, train wreck averted, bitterness cured. My dreamful wishes returned. “Where are Declan and Poppy, anyway?”

  “You’ve met those two,” Dexx rolled his eyes waving his hand, dismissing them like they’d been part of his intimate home life forever, like we’d all been super close friends and such. “I left them wrapped up in each other’s arms, tangled like a pretzel.”

  “Sounds about right,” I agreed, actually being part of their lives like forever.

  He chuckled, and looked away. We stood in silence, again, awkward, wordless.

  “Anyway,” I clicked my tongue. “I have an idea. Do you want to come help me with something fun? Since the guests are all hanging down here, I’ve got to assist my parents with something secret.”

  “Secrets. Oh, I love secrets. That does sound fun,” Dexx grinned. “Lead the way.”

  Chapter 20

  Dexx

  There was no other way to say it. I felt torn between the three of them.

  Poppy? Poppy was amazing. Everything she did enchanted me. With every error I made, she seemed to forgive me, and move on, allowing for more second chances than I could count.

  Declan? He grew on me. He wormed his way into my heart. With some kind of fierce persistent bravery, he faced the world, took it on with full force, an unstoppable machine. He was a steam engine that chugged uphill both ways, and didn’t pause for rest.

  Denver? Denver was not the basic girl I knew at school. She was darling, kind, and full of whimsy. She surprised me with her genuinely sweet yet quirky character. She didn’t continue hiding behind the cold, snobby façade like I’d expected. She was warm like the hand that touched my shoulder.

  I had a giant urge to make a move, and hug Denver, or more. I yearned to make her feel safe after facing that verbal assault from her cruel family. I wanted to pull her into
my arms and make it all better.

  And yet, I felt as if the three of them weren’t telling me something, like they were hiding a key element. I felt like they all looked at me differently, like they weren’t entirely truthful about why I was invited. They all had something to say to me, but hadn’t gathered up the nerve to let loose.

  Denver and I stood in silence. My eyes darted away from hers. She was so beautiful. Too beautiful. My nerves got the best of me. I didn’t want to stare. But, I did want to stare, and hug, and . . .

  “Anyway, I have an idea,” Denver saved the moment with her sweet words. “Do you want to come help me with something fun? Since the guests are all hanging down here, I’ve got to assist my parents with something secret.”

  “Secrets. Oh, I love secrets. That does sound fun. Lead the way!”

  Denver tiptoed out of the room. She bounced on her legs, up and down, dramatically, a cartoonish clown. She held her hands over her lips, and laughed at some hilarious joke she had yet to share. She crept into the kitchen. Dancer dozed under the immense kitchen table. He jumped to his feet and scurried out of his hiding spot. He barked at her as she gathered a large red velvet bag, tied shut by a woven gold rope, from a cupboard underneath the counter top.

  “Shhh, calm down boy, you don’t want to ruin the surprise,” she told him. Dancer’s creamy tail wagged furiously as he sniffed the bag. “Stay here, Dancer. Guard the fort for me. Good puppy!” Dancer panted. His body stiffened like a proud soldier, protecting the kitchen from naughty cookie thieves, or rascally elves eager to sneak a bite of supper.

  I remained close by Denver’s side. We exited the kitchen. She bounced up to the second floor, and led me down the dark corridor. When we reached the end we came upon another stairway. She signaled for me to follow her. We crept up the steps. Denver poked her head around the bend to make sure it was all clear of guests.

 

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