Poppy’s eyes began to shine with tears. Mine did too.
“We all stayed in Atlanta; we lived with Aunt DeeDee. Ida and Savannah started new schools. Daddy traveled for his work. I was home-schooled, or tutored in hospital. My mama and daddy prayed for a miracle. But I knew there was none to be had. I was okay. I kept my chin up. The chemo was hard. Losing my hair was tough.” Poppy blinked, clearing her vision, then confided, “But cutting you off almost killed me. It was my choice. The blame lies with me. I just wanted to save you, Rune. Save you from seeing me that way. I saw what it was doing to my parents and sisters. But you, I could protect. I could give you what my family didn’t get, life. Freedom. The chance to move on without pain.”
“It didn’t work,” I managed to say.
Poppy lowered her gaze. “I know that now. But believe me, Rune. I thought of you every single day. I pictured you, prayed for you. Hoped that the darkness I saw sprouting within you had faded with my absence.”
Poppy rested her chin on my chest once more. “Tell me, Rune. Tell me what happened to you.”
My jaw clenched, not wanting to let myself feel what I did then. But I could never say no to my girl. It was impossible. “I was angry,” I said, pushing her hair from her pretty face. “No one could tell me where you went. Why you cut me off. My parents wouldn’t get off my back. My pappa pissed me off 24/7. I blamed him for everything. I still do.”
Poppy opened her mouth to speak, but I shook my head. “No,” I bit out. “Don’t.”
Poppy closed her mouth. I closed my eyes, and forced myself to continue. “I went to school, but it wasn’t long before I fell in with people just as pissed at the world as me. It wasn’t long before I began to party. To drink, to smoke—to do the opposite of anything my pappa told me.”
“Rune,” Poppy said sadly. She didn’t say anything else.
“That became my life. I threw my camera away. Then I packed away everything that reminded me of you.” I barked out a laugh. “Shame I couldn’t pull out my heart and pack it away too. Because that prick wouldn’t let me forget you, no matter how much I tried. And then we returned. Back here. And I saw you in the hallway and all that anger I still carried in my veins turned into a tidal wave.”
I rolled onto my side, opened my eyes and ran my hand down Poppy’s face. “Because you looked so beautiful. Any image I had in my head of what you would look like at seventeen was blown out of the water. The minute I saw this brown hair, those big green eyes fixed on mine, I knew that any effort I’d made over the past two years to push you away was ruined. By one look. Ruined.”
I swallowed. “Then when you told me about…” I trailed off, and Poppy shook her head.
“No,” she said. “Enough now. You’ve said enough.”
“And you?” I asked. “Why did you come back?”
“Because I was done,” she said with a sigh. “Nothing was working. Each new treatment made no difference. The oncologist told us straight out: nothing would work. That was all I needed to make up my mind. I wanted to go home. I wanted to live out my remaining days at home, on palliative treatment, with those I loved most.”
Poppy shuffled closer, kissing my cheek, my head and, finally, my mouth. “And now I have you. As I know now it was meant to be. This is where we were meant to be at this precise moment in time—home.”
I felt a stray tear escape my eye. Poppy quickly brushed it away with her thumb. She leaned over me, across my chest and said, “I have come to understand that death, for the sick, is not so hard to endure. For us, eventually, our pain ends, we go to a better place. But for those left behind, their pain only magnifies.”
Poppy took my hand and held it to her cheek. “I really believe that tales of loss don’t always have to be sad or sorrowful. I want mine to be remembered as a great adventure that I tried to live as best as I possibly could. Because how dare we waste a single breath? How dare we waste something so precious? Instead, we should strive for all those precious breaths to be taken in as many precious moments as we can squeeze into this short time on Earth. That’s the message I want to leave behind. And what a beautiful legacy to leave for those I love.”
If, as Poppy believed, a heartbeat was a song, then right now, in this moment, my heart would be singing with pride … of the complete admiration I had for the girl I loved, at the way she saw life, at the way she tried to make me believe—make me believe that there could be a life beyond her.
I was sure that wasn’t the case, but I could see that Poppy was determined. That determination never failed.
“So now you know,” Poppy declared and rested her head on my chest. “Now, let’s say no more about it. We have our future to explore. We won’t be slaves to the past.” I closed my eyes, and she pleaded, “Promise me, Rune?”
Finding my voice, I whispered, “I promise.”
I fought back the emotions slicing me inside. I wouldn’t show her any sign that I was sad. She would see only happiness from me today.
Poppy’s breathing evened out as I stroked her hair. The warm breeze flowed over us, taking with it the heaviness that had surrounded us.
I let myself begin to drift off, thinking Poppy had too, when she murmured, “What do you think heaven’s like, Rune?”
I tensed, but Poppy’s hands began to circle over my chest, ridding my body of the heaviness her question brought back.
“I don’t know,” I said. Poppy didn’t offer anything, just stayed exactly where she was. Shifting slightly to bring her tighter into my arms, I said, “Somewhere beautiful. Somewhere peaceful. Somewhere where I’d see you again.”
I felt Poppy smile against my shirt. “Me too,” she agreed softly and turned to kiss my chest.
This time I was sure Poppy slept. I looked across the sand and watched as an old couple sat down near us. Their hands were clasped tightly. Before the woman could sit, the man spread a blanket on the sand. He kissed her cheek before helping her to sit down.
A pang of jealousy shot through me. Because we would never have that.
Poppy and I would never grow old together. Never have kids. Never have a wedding. Nothing. But as I glanced down at Poppy’s thick brown hair and her delicate hands splayed on my chest, I let myself be grateful that at least I had her now. I didn’t know what lay ahead. But I had her now.
I’d had her since I was five.
I now realized why I had loved her so hard from being so young—so I had this time with her. Poppy believed her spirit always knew she’d die young. I was starting to think that maybe mine did too.
Over an hour passed. Poppy was still sleeping. I gently lifted her from my chest and sat up. The sun had moved; waves lapped the shore.
Feeling thirsty, I opened the picnic basket and pulled out one of the bottles of water Poppy had packed. As I drank, my eyes rested on the backpack Poppy had carried from the trunk.
Wondering what was inside, I hauled it over and gently opened the zipper. At first all I saw was another black bag. This bag was padded. I pulled it out and my heart kicked into a sprint when I realized what I was holding.
I sighed and closed my eyes.
I lowered the bag to the blanket and rubbed my hands over my face. When I lifted my head, I opened my eyes and blankly stared out over the water. I watched the boats in the distance, Poppy’s words filtering into my mind…