The Edge of Forever (3 page)

Deciding she was frozen enough for one night, Poppy went back inside and shut the doors behind her. Leaning against them, she looked at the two suitcases at the foot of her bed. Anything worth keeping was shoved into that luggage. The memory of the night she packed those bags slammed into her mind like an unwelcome guest.

“What do you mean you’ve decided to go to Alaska?” Her mother walked into Poppy’s room, her look incredulous.

“Calm down. I never said living there would be permanent.” She shoved more clothes into the bag and turned to grab more.

“Why in the world would you want to leave?
And to Alaska of all places?
You don’t even know anyone outside of Ohio. Where would you stay? What about your job?”

Poppy took a deep breath, knowing this was bound to be her mother’s reaction. She had no doubt this would be a lot of people’s reaction, especially when they found out who she planned on staying with.

When she spoke with Blake last week and finally made the decision to take him up on his offer to stay with him for an undetermined amount of time, she had dreaded this very moment. Grabbing several hangers out of her closet she walked back to her bed.
Might as well get it over with.

“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 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 that 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 of this if you’re running to the person that 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 and 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 had been 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 of 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 Three

The sun on her face woke Poppy the next morning. She had finally fallen asleep well after midnight. Blake had fixed them a wonderful meal, and 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 had retired to her room. Visiting with Blake had 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 around, 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
spoonfuls
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 that 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.

“What?” He looked almost sheepish, and Poppy started to become slightly self-conscious. “What, Blake?”

“You sleep okay?” His sounded concerned.

It was her turn to look sheepish.
 
“You heard.” Poppy didn’t phrase it as a question. Clearing her throat, she went to the bed and sat on the edge. Her feet were suddenly extremely interesting.

The bed dipped beside her, but she didn’t look up. One night and she had already probably freaked him out. Who wanted to live with someone that had nightmares that caused them to scream out, sometimes waking whole housefuls of people?

“I’m really sorry.” A finger under her chin lifted her face until she stared into his hazel eyes.

“Why are you sorry?” Blake let his finger drop away but continued to stare at her. “Like you can help it? I’m more concerned with how you’re doing?”

 
Poppy licked her lips and looked down for a suspended moment before lifting her eyes back to his. “The nightmares used to be really bad, a nightly occurrence, but with time they’ve gotten better. I’ve gone weeks without them, but then they come out of nowhere.” This was one of the few things she hadn’t talked with Blake about. Honestly, Poppy had been a little embarrassed. On top of everything else that happened she had the same reoccurring nightmare, one that had her screaming out and waking in a cold sweat.

“You never told me about those.” He took her hand in his, his eyes portraying his concern. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Yes and no.” Poppy knew Blake deserved to know what she may or may not do again. There were a few things she had kept to herself after Jon died, things that had seemed too intimate. One of those things had been the baby she lost as a result of the accident.

“I dream of the accident. It’s always the same, and so vivid in detail.” She closed her eyes, trying to purge herself of the memory of her dream, of her reality. The gentle sweep of his thumb across the back of her hand went a long way in soothing her inner turmoil. It wasn’t like he didn’t know the details of the accident. Both of their families knew, but it wasn’t the same, not when she had been in the middle of it all. Painful memories invaded her, and she squeezed her eyes tighter together.

“Talk to me, Poppy.” His words urged her. “I know it’s hard, but isn’t that why you came out here, to help yourself heal? I bet you haven’t really discussed your feelings with anyone, not even that psychologist you saw.” She opened her eyes and looked into his. Blake was right, of course.

Poppy may have spoken to a professional after the accident, but she hadn’t been fully able to unload her problems, not like she wanted to.
Even years later the accident was still fresh in her mind.
The sights and smells of the carnage that surrounded her were ingrained inside of her.

“Is me telling you the horror of my dreams really going to help anything?” She didn’t ask to be cynical or untrustworthy of Blake’s attempts to help her. She simply spoke the truth.

“Yes, Poppy, I do think it’ll help, but I won’t push you.” His eyes were a warm green/brown that had her wanting to open up to him.

Looking out the French doors at the swirling snow, Poppy told him about the crash, about her dream.

The sound of glass breaking and metal bending was so unbelievably loud that it encompassed Poppy. Pain registered at the temple as soon as her head struck the passenger side window. Flashes of black and brightness danced before her eyes. The metallic flavor of blood filled her mouth in a gush, and she gagged as it slid down her throat.

The world felt strange, off-kilter. Blinking rapidly, Poppy’s vision cleared enough that she realized she was suspended in the air. The only thing holding her was the seatbelt that cut into her throat, partially cutting off her airway like a tight noose intent on taking her life.

Harsh, violent gusts of wind whipped by her, and she turned her head. Jagged shards of glass from the passenger side window filled her vision. Something warm and wet made a slow, but steady track down her forehead. The wetness started to drip into her eyes, and she lifted her hand, trying to wipe it away. But her arm wouldn’t move. Panic seized her chest, and her heart pounded strong and hard behind her sternum.

“Jon.” Her voice sounded hoarse, scratchy. Poppy cleared it and called out again. “Jon.” There was still no answer. Her neck hurt, and she still couldn’t get her arm to move.

Poppy turned her head to the left, and a tortured sob left her. “Jon…” Hot tears tracked down her cheeks. “No, please God, no.” She tried to reach out, but her fucking arm wouldn’t move. Poppy looked down and saw the flash of white protruding from her forearm.

Poppy screamed. Loud, gut-wrenching sound left her, and she prayed someone heard her, prayed someone came to help. She tried to use her right arm to unlatch her seat belt, but every move she made sent agony throughout her entire body. “Jon, please, wake up, honey.” Blood covered her hand, and made her actions slick and sticky. A rolling wave of pain stole her breath. Poppy gripped her belly and cried out.

Sirens sounded in the distance, and Poppy could hear shouting nearby.

“You okay in there?” A female voice was to her right.

“What’s your name?” A male voice sounded to her left.

She reached out with her right arm, but she couldn’t reach Jon, couldn’t touch him. “Please, help Jon.” Poppy let her head fall back against the seat and closed her eyes. Blood and tears made seeing anything damn near impossible, and the pain made it hard to think straight. Another sob tore through her, and she tried once more to reach for Jon.

“God, Johnny, I’m so sorry. Please forgive me. Please be okay.” Then darkness took her away.

Poppy wiped the tear that started making a slow trail down her cheek. Blake’s comforting presence seeped into her, and she absorbed the sensation.

“I’m so sorry,
Poppy
.” He rubbed her back, the rhythmic up and down motion further helping to ease her pain.

“Well, it is getting easier every day, and I’m hoping that it’ll get better since I’m here.” Poppy wiped at the last tear and forced a smile on her face. She looked at Blake and saw a pained look on his face.

“I’m going to make you whole again, Poppy.”

“I know, but it’s not your job to do that, Blake.”

They stared at each other for a suspended moment,
then
he gave a nod and stood. “Okay, well I’ve got some breakfast made when you’re ready.”

Blake shut the door on his way out, and Poppy sat on the bed and went back to staring out the French doors. The snow continued in a flurry of motion, and she was struck by the beauty of it.

If only she could be one of those snowflakes with the wind taking her far, far away.