“I could ask you the same question.”
Footsteps cross the deck board, and then Poppy peeks around the corner of the wall dividing our decks.
“Do you mind?” She motions to the second chair I keep on my side of the wall. Not that I have many visitors, but tonight, it comes in handy.
“Be my guest.”
She drops into the seat. “That’s what I told you the first day we met.”
“I remember.”
“It was memorable. I was a mess.”
“You were fine.”
She reaches back and tightens the knot of her ponytail. “A frazzled, blubbering mess.”
What am I supposed to say to that? Because the truth is, I can still picture the curve of Poppy’s neck as it sloped into the smooth skin of her shoulder. I can still recall the drip of sweat that fell from her temple and over her cheek. The sight of it made my mouth go dry. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything more beautiful than Poppy in her bath towel, with her hair looking like she’d been electrocuted, and her bright-pink cheeks looking like the kind of bubble gum I’d like to taste. Truth is, Poppy’s impossible to forget.
“You seem to keep seeing me when I’m a mess.” She says this like an observation.
I shoot her a look.
“That first morning. Then with the bat. Today.”
“What about today? The zoo trip was great.”
Poppy arches her eyebrows at me.
“The kids seemed to have a blast.”
She cocks her head. “I think you’re forgetting about the elephant in the room.”
I wait a beat before answering. “You mean the turtle in the room?”
She buries her head in her hands. “That was mortifying. What if those kids tell their parents what they saw? They could sue the P&R department for scarring their children!”
“I don’t think you’d be liable for the turtles’…um…behavior, so you’re good.”
Poppy lets loose a full-fledged giggle then. “Oh my gosh. The sounds they were making, right? I will never forget the sounds.”
“Yeah. Could have done without all of that.”
Poppy wipes a tear from the corner of her eye and tips her face up to the sky. “It’s so peaceful out here. I love the sky, don’t you?” Her face is almost wistful, with her chin tipped up, like she wishes she could reach up and touch a star. My fingers itch with desire to drag the strand of hair that’s fallen over her cheek away so I can get a better look at her. Before I can answer, she continues. “There’s something grounding about looking up and knowing that I’m a small part of it all. Mostly insignificant, but here for some reason, for some purpose, nonetheless.”
I swallow, both grateful that she’s sharing these musings with me and guilty that I already know how she feels about the sky because of her email to Holland.
She cuts me a glance. “I like it here.”
I stay quiet, waiting for her to continue.
“In this town.” She jabs her thumb in the direction of her half of the duplex. “This house. We appreciate all your improvements, by the way. Not sure when you’re finding time to squeeze those in with your schedule the way it is, but thank you.”
I shrug her off. It’s the least I can do.
“Do you like it here?”
Her question catches me off guard. There’s an innocent curiosity to Poppy’s posture, and for whatever reason, I find myself wanting to open up to her.
