The Edge of Forever
“I’m taking a leave of absence from work. If I decide Alaska isn’t for me, and it is before my allotted time, then I can always go back. If not, then I’ll find something there.” Of course, she didn’t tell her mother that if she decided to stay in Alaska she had no intentions of continuing with advertising. Poppy had changed and wanted the same thing for her life.
“I actually already have a place to stay.” Poppy folded the shirt she held and placed it in her bag. “I’m going to stay with Blake.”
Her mother sat a little too quietly for Poppy’s liking. Poppy lifted her gaze and saw her mother staring at her with a confused look.
“Blake Ellis? Jon’s brother?”
“Yeah.” Poppy sat on the edge of the bed and sighed. “It’s just so damn hard being around everyone who loved Jon. Everywhere I turn I think of him, smell him, and hear him.”
“Sweetie.” Her mother sat beside her and ran a hand up and down her back. “It’s been nearly two years. How are you going to distance yourself from all this if you’re running to the person who was closest to Jon? You think it’s hard now having all of these reminders of him around you, but staying with Blake is not the answer.”
Her mother had been right, of course, but she was getting better. “I don’t expect you to understand. I don’t expect anyone to understand. All I ask is that you support my decision.”
“Poppy, honey, I will support whatever you want to do. I just don’t want you to get all the way out there, look at Blake, and fall back into the despair you’ve just come out of.”
“We’ve been talking nearly every day for the past two years.” Her mother’s hand momentarily stopped rubbing her back, but catching herself, she continued. “After he came home for Jon’s funeral, we started talking. At first, it was every once in a while, but then it was all the time.”
“Are there feelings between the two of you?”
Poppy shook her head, knowing what her mother was getting at. “It isn’t like that. I can talk to him, like really talk to him, Mom.” Poppy lifted her eyes and stared into her mother’s. They were the same blue as her own. “When I feel so discombobulated around everyone else, I am at ease with him. We talk for hours, and I unload everything that is bottled up inside me. He listens to me.”
“Sweetie, we are all here for you. We listen to you.” A sliver of pain laced her mother’s voice, and Poppy wrapped her arms around her mom’s waist.
“I know, and I’m thankful I have such a supportive family, but I have to do this for me if I have any hope of getting through this.” When she pulled away, her mother had tears in her eyes, the same as Poppy. She lifted her hands and used her thumbs to brush Poppy’s tears away. Leaning forward, her mom kissed her forehead.
“You do what you have to do.”Chapter 4The sun on her face woke Poppy the next morning. She had finally fallen asleep well after midnight. Blake fixed them a wonderful meal then she had gone to bed, or at least tried to. After a phone call to her family to let them know she arrived safely, Poppy retired to her room.
Visiting with Blake sounded nice, but she was just too tired. Despite her exhaustion, she had lain in the bed for hours, staring at the ceiling and watching the moonlight shift across it.
A glance at the bedside clock showed it was barely seven in the morning. If she could have slept longer, she would have, but she was wide awake now. The hardwood floors were freezing beneath her bare feet, and she hurriedly ran to the dresser and grabbed a thick pair of socks. The sweats and thermal tee she wore did nothing to help keep her warm.
After quickly changing, she walked to the French doors and looked through the glass. A freshly fallen layer of snow covered everything. Her breath started to fog up the glass, and she lifted her hand and rubbed the moisture away. She didn’t know how long she stood there, watching the snow flutter, the wind blowing it around like a slow dancing couple, but a knock on her door drew her attention.
“Come on in.”
The door was pushed open, and Blake peeked his head around the corner. “Sorry, I heard the floor creaking and knew you’d be up. Thought you might like a cup of coffee.” His hand made an appearance, his fingers curled around the ceramic. “Two spoonsful of sugar, a little splash of cream?”
A smile tilted her lips. “You remembered.” She moved toward him and took the offered cup from him.
“Yeah, well I don’t think there is any woman alive who drinks as much of the stuff as you do.” He pushed the door open wider and leaned against the frame. He crossed his arms over his wide chest and regarded her silently.