Poppy
A golden glow settled over the marsh, and a thin layer of pollen dust coated the world. I popped an allergy pill and kicked back in my chair with a glass of chilled wine, intent on letting the hectic pace of the week drift away. I’d picked up a few of my favorite romance books more than once in the evenings, hoping to lose myself in make-believe, but it didn’t work. My raw, mushy, sensitive heart bogged me down. The broken heart had been inevitable. I had my fun. The time had come to pay the piper, as my fifth-grade teacher used to say. But as much as the pain sucked, I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Because I had memories. My own book boyfriend come to life.
Tap. Tap. Tap. The light rapping sound originated from the solid wood door, so I stared at it.
I expected Alice on the other side. She’d stopped by the day before to check on me and to offer something to eat. It had been a nice gesture. She meant well. But I didn’t want it to be a daily thing. And I didn’t want company. I sat still, hoping she’d assume I wasn’t home.
Oh…fuck a duck. There’s no way she didn’t see me walking through her back yard
The knocking stopped.
I am such a bad human. Now she’s gonna think I’m ungrateful. An unfriendly tenant.
I gulped a large swallow of wine for fortification.
Get off your fat ass and go say hello to Alice.
I guzzled the remainder of the wine and stood.
“There you are.”
I scanned the deck. Spun around to look behind me. The room remained empty. But I recognized that deep voice.
“Lord, half a glass of wine and I’m hearing things,” I muttered.
“Poppy. I’m down here.”
With extreme care, I leaned over the railing. My heart sped up to the point you’d think I’d tried to run a 5K. Gabe stood on the ground before me, holding a gorgeous bouquet of magenta peonies.
“What’re you doing here?”
“I came to see you. Let me in.”
“Why would you—why are you back? Why are you whisper-shouting?”
“Poppy. Alice is in her back yard praying. Let. Me. In.” I peered over the railing and scanned the ground all around him for god knew what. The moment felt surreal, like instead of wine I’d smoked pot and hallucinations had set in.
“Poppy. I’m coming back up the stairs. Please. Let me in.”
He disappeared, and in minutes the tapping returned. I swung the door open.
“How did you know where I was?”
“Luna. I called her after I showed up at your old place and saw the Realtor’s lock on the door.”
“Yeah, Mrs. Rittenhouse has the place listed for sale. My lease ended.” He knew that. I told him I’d found a place.
“Can I come in?” I blinked away my confusion fog.
“Of course. Would you like some wine?”
He gave a slight nod and thrust out the flowers. “These are for you.”
“They’re gorgeous. Truly. But I’m so confused. What are you doing here? We already said goodbye, Gabe, and it hurt. Why are you back here?” Frustration oozed from my pores. There was an order to these things, and dammit, slipping up and going backward wasn’t smart.
He pushed the flowers into my hands, and I propped them up in the sink to deal with later. Dizziness engulfed me. I held on to the counter for balance.
Gabe lowered to one knee before me.
“What are you doing? Get up.”
“I’m not proposing. But…let me do this. I have to explain things. I have a speech planned, and I didn’t plan on kneeling, but this feels right.”
I opened my mouth and closed it repeatedly, like a guppy out of water.
“Please? Go with it?”
I nodded, incapable of more.
“I didn’t plan on falling in love with you. I think I had some preconceived notions that gave me a false sense of security that I couldn’t actually fall in love with you. On the outset, we’re different.”
I crossed my arms and had a mind to glare, but there was no glare in me.
“I think I thought I was the one helping you. But you didn’t want my money, and you pushed off most of my help. But I think you helped me, or at least changed me. I’m definitely a different person now. It took me going back to the city to see that. The things that used to thrill me don’t anymore. And what I want has changed.”
“That might not be me that changed you. There’s a quote out there that you should live in New York once, but not so long it makes you hard, and in the south, but not so long it makes you—”
“Soft. I heard it as San Francisco, but yeah. Maybe this place was a contributing factor, but Poppy…I think we make a good partnership. When I think about going out there on my own, returning to my old life, I don’t like…I didn’t like it. I don’t expect you to leave. You’re in the middle of making it on your own, and I’m not looking to take that away from you. You know, you’ve never said how you feel about me, but I’m back here, down on one knee, wondering if maybe you’d ever consider giving us a try? A real try? Without an end date on the horizon?”
My hands clasped over my mouth, and air from my deep breaths whizzed over my skin. Everything in front of me, this total scene, didn’t make sense.
“But you love New York. It has everything. Restaurants and shopping and—”
“Poppy, I went back. But I missed this place. I missed you.”
“But I’m not your kind of girl.” I searched for any sign he was joking, or delirious. There were tall, skinny, glamorous Sex and the City kind of women in New York City.
“Who says you’re not my kind of girl? Because I’m kneeling before you and, by the way, crushing my knee on a tile floor, to show you that you are very much my kind of girl. I love your zeal, your compassion and creativity, your heart and independence, passion and determination. I see the world through a Poppy colored lens now, and I have no interest in going back. Not to the way things used to be. Will you give me a chance? Will you give us a real try?”
“For real? Like, you’re going to change your social media status real?”
“I don’t know how to do that, but I’m sure I can figure it out.”
“What about your parents?”
“My mom thought you should move to New York.”
“Will you stand up?”
“No. Not until you agree to give us a chance.”
“I’m not moving to New York. I have—”
“I know. I would never ask you to. And here’s the thing. I’ve made it. I found my success. I can do my own investment thing. I don’t have to be in Manhattan. I don’t really want a boss. I don’t need one. I’m re-thinking what I want to do, and I can be anywhere. But you, you need to do this. I want you to go for it. And I want to be there supporting you. If you’ll let me.”
The fringes of the room grew blurry, and I stared up at the flat white ceiling.
“Can I stand now?” I nodded and helped him up, and he cupped my face in his hands and gently wiped away some pesky tears. “Is this a yes?”
I smiled and sniffled and wrapped my arms around his shoulders, bringing him close. “Yes.”
He bent and kissed me. Soft, probing, slow. His kiss said he meant it, he wanted me, and not just for the night. He wanted me beside him. His kiss promised a future.
“I love you, too, you know?” He smiled his boyish grin, and I wished I’d told him earlier. “But you probably knew that.”
“Well, if your mushy heart couldn’t stand to talk on the phone with me…let’s say I hoped.” He trailed kisses along my jaw then pulled away, serious. “It may not be easy. We could be in for some rough years. These lawsuits could hang over my head indefinitely. The government is on the hunt to reclaim funds. They could try to take every bit of money I have. I don’t think it’s likely, but there’s always a risk.”
“No worries. There’s pretty much always an open spot for a dishwasher in the kitchen.”
He lifted me without even straining onto the counter and stood between my legs, so our faces were aligned, equal.
“Penelope Star Smith, have you ever lived with a man you loved?”