“Because I love life.” She shrugged. “I always have.”
I felt like I was seeing a new side to Poppy. Or maybe I was being reminded of the girl I always knew she’d grow up to be.
Poppy gestured to the sky. “I’m the girl who wakes up early to watch the sunrise. I’m the girl who wants to see the good in everyone, the one who is taken away by a song, inspired by art.” Turning to me, she smiled. “I’m that girl, Rune. The one who waits out the storm simply to catch a glimpse of a rainbow. Why be miserable when you can be happy? It’s an obvious choice to me.”
I brought her hand up to my mouth and kissed the back of her hand. Her breathing changed, the tempo racing to double speed. Then Poppy pulled our joined hands to her mouth, twisting them so she could kiss my hand. She lowered them to her lap, tracing small patterns on my skin with the index finger of her free hand. My heart melted when I realized what she was drawing—infinity signs. Perfect figure eights.
“I know what lies ahead for me, Rune. I’m not naïve. But I also have a strong faith that there’s more to life than what we have right now, here, on this Earth. I believe that heaven awaits me. I believe that when I take my last breath and close my eyes in this life, I’ll awake in the next, healthy and at peace. I believe this with my whole heart.”
“Poppy,” I rasped, tearing apart inside at the thought of losing her, but so damn proud of her strength. She amazed me.
Poppy’s finger dropped from our hands and she smiled at me, not a hint of fear on her beautiful face. “It’ll be okay, Rune. I promise.”
“I’m not sure I’ll be okay without you.” I didn’t want to make her feel bad, but this was my truth.
“You will,” she said confidently. “Because I have faith in you.”
I didn’t say anything in response. What could I say?
Poppy looked at the bare trees around us. “I can’t wait for them to bloom again. I miss the sight of pretty pink petals. I miss walking into this grove and feeling like I’m stepping into a dream.” She lifted her hand and trailed it along a low-hanging branch.
Poppy flashed me an excited smile, then jumped to her feet, her hair blowing freely in the wind. She stepped onto the grass and stretched her hands into the air. Her head tipped back and she laughed. A laugh that ripped from her throat with pure abandon.
I didn’t move. I couldn’t. I was transfixed. My eyes refused to move away from watching Poppy as she began to turn, spinning as the wind blew through the grove, her laughter drifting on the wind.
A dream, I thought. She was right. Poppy, bundled up in her coat, spinning in the early-morning grove, looked exactly like a dream.
She was like a bird: at its most beautiful when flying free.
“Can you feel it, Rune?” she asked, her eyes still closed as she soaked up the warming sun.
“What?” I asked, finding my voice.
“Life!” she called, laughing harder as the wind changed direction, almost knocking her off her feet. “Life,” she said quietly, as she grew still, rooting her feet in the dry grass. Her skin was flushed and her cheeks wind-burned. Yet she’d never looked more beautiful.
My fingers twitched. When I glanced down I immediately knew why. The urge to capture Poppy on film gnawed inside me. A natural urge. Poppy had once told me I was born with it.
“I wish, Rune,” Poppy said, causing me to glance up, “I wish that people realized how this felt every day. Why does it take a life ending to learn how to cherish each day? Why must we wait until we run out of time to start to accomplish all that we dreamed, when once we had all the time in the world? Why don’t we look at the person we love the most like it’s the last time we will ever see them? Because if we did, life would be so vibrant. Life would be so truly and completely lived.”
Poppy’s head drifted slowly forward. She glanced back at me over her shoulder and rewarded me with the most devastating smile. I looked at the girl I loved most like it was the very last time I would see her, and it made me feel alive.
It made me feel like the most blessed person on the planet, because I had her. Even though, right now, things were still awkward and fresh, I knew I had her.
And she definitely had me.
My legs stood up of their own accord, discarding the blanket onto the grassy floor of the grove. Slowly, I walked to Poppy, drinking in every part of her.
Poppy watched me approach. As I stood in front of her, she ducked her head, a flush of embarrassment traveling up her neck to rest upon the apples of her cheeks.
As the wind wrapped around us, she asked, “Do you feel it, Rune? Truly?”
I knew she was referring to the wind on my face and the sun’s rays shining down.
Alive.
Vibrant.
I nodded, replying to a completely different question. “I feel it, Poppymin. Truly.”
And it was at that moment that something inside of me shifted. I couldn’t think of the fact she only had months to live.
I had to focus on the moment.
I had to help her feel as alive as possible, while I had her back by my side.
I had to win back her trust. Her soul. Her love.
Poppy stepped closer to me, running her hand down my bare arm. “You’re cold,” she announced.
I didn’t care if I was suffering from hypothermia. Pushing my hand to the nape of her neck, I leaned in, watching her face for a sign this move wasn’t wanted. Her green eyes flared, but it wasn’t in resistance.
Spurred on, seeing her lips part and her eyes flutter to a close, I tipped my head to the side, bypassing her mouth, to run the tip of my nose down her cheek. Poppy gasped, but I kept going. Kept going until I reached the pulse in her neck; it was racing.
Her skin was warm from dancing in the wind, yet shivering at the same time. I knew it was because of me.
Closing in the rest of the way, I pressed my lips over her galloping pulse, tasting her sweetness, feeling my own heartbeat race in tandem.
Alive.
Life being so truly and completely lived.
A soft whimper escaped Poppy’s lips and I drew back, gradually meeting her gaze. Her green irises were bright, her lips pink and full. Dropping my hand, I stepped back and said, “Let’s go. You need sleep.”
Poppy looked adorably bewildered. I left her on that spot as I gathered our things. When I finished, I found her exactly where I had left her.
I flicked my head in the direction of our houses: Poppy walked beside me. With each step, I mulled over the last twelve hours. About the rollercoaster of emotions, about the fact that I’d got half my heart back, only to discover it was temporary. I thought about kissing Poppy’s face, about lying in bed beside her.
Then I thought about her jar. The half-empty jar of a thousand boy-kisses. For some reason that flash of blank paper hearts bothered me the most. Poppy loved that jar. It was a challenge set by her mamaw. A challenge blunted by my two-year absence.
I flicked a look to Poppy, who was staring at a bird in a tree, smiling as it sang from the topmost branch. Feeling my stare, she turned to me and I asked, “You still like adventures?”
Poppy’s ear-splitting grin immediately answered that question. “Yes,” she replied, “Lately, every day is an adventure.” She lowered her eyes. “I know the next few months will be an interesting challenge, but I’m ready to embrace it. I’m trying to live every day to the fullest.”
Ignoring the pain this remark ignited in me, a plan formed in my mind. Poppy stopped; we had reached the patch of grass between our homes.