“I remember everything. I’ll be right back.” I dash upstairs, pulling a shoe box from under the head of my bed. When I return, I’m greeted with confused glances from both women. “Here. You do the honors, Poppy.”
She lifts the lid, her eyes glazing over. It’s full of pictures from our time together, a box of memories that I could never part with, no matter how many years passed. She pulls out a handful of photos, flipping through them. “Look at us. We were so young.”
My mother peers over her shoulder, chuckling. “He was skinny as a rail. And that hair, Dylan.”
“Careful there, Mom. Poppy liked my hair.” I top off my drink, scooting next to Poppy to examine the contents of the box.
“I did,” Poppy concedes, her finger tracing along a photo of us embracing outside a national park. “But then again, I also thought a blue pixie and Birkenstocks was cutting edge fashion.”
Chuckling, I drop a kiss to the top of her head. “I definitely prefer your current look.”
“I think you both look better now. But, what do I know?” My mother reaches into the box, pulling out a piece of paper that is worn and faded. “What’s this?”
Poppy takes the paper, a single tear rolling down her face. “It’s a letter I wrote to Dylan after a massive fight. It was the first time I admitted how important he was to me.” Her hands turn the paper over, examining the creases. “How many times did you read this?”
“Whenever I was missing you. So, more times than I can count. Hundreds. Maybe more.”
She puts the paper back into the box, dashing from the room. I exchange a worried glance with my mother. “See, Mom? I told you, she’s a free spirit. I speak about anything too profound and she panics.”
“Or not,” my mother murmurs, as Poppy returns with her purse in hand.
Wonderful. Is she going to demand to leave now?
“What are you doing, Poppy?” I ask, not sure I want to hear the answer.
Pulling out an equally faded piece of paper, she places it on the kitchen island and my heart stops.
“It’s the poem I wrote you.”
She nods, her eyes bright with tears. “I read it whenever I was missing you. More times than I can count.”
My mother chuckles, a knowing glint in her eyes. “Goodnight, you two. I told you, destiny believes in you.”
I wait for her to leave the room before pulling Poppy to me, my hands stroking along her waist and hips. “I missed you so much, Sunshine.”
Her hands cup my face, tracing lightly along my jaw. “I missed you, D.”
“So, what are we going to do about it?”