Wings Over Poppies (Over #2) (8 page)

“So they’re proud of me and just don’t know it yet. I’m not really sure how that’s even possible. How do I make them see this isn’t the end of the world?”

“You don’t. You just give it time.”

“Time? But I leave in just a few months. Time isn’t exactly on my side. I don’t really care if they cut me off. I’ve saved enough money to get settled, and then I’ll get a part-time job. But it’s killing me to see my dad’s disappointment. He looks at me like I killed his puppy.”

Miss Anna’s plump, flour-dusted hand reaches over and covers mine. She gives me a tight squeeze.

“They’ve had eighteen years to think of you going to Tulane and living the dream they created for you. They’ve had less than a week to think about you taking off across the country, to the big city, all on your own. They’ll come around, baby girl, but you have to give the idea time to marinate.”

“Marinate, huh? I like the sound of that.”

She pats my hand in comfort and then turns her attention back to her crust.

“Now, out of my kitchen. I’ve got work to do, and you two are slowing me down. Pick up your mess before you leave, ya hear me?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Holly and I say in unison.

Holly and I file out of the kitchen and walk toward the administrative hall of the club. Before we turn the corner, I hear my father’s booming voice echoing off the walls.

“Well son, I hate to lose you, but I admire what you’re doing. There’s great honor in serving your country. Your mother should be very proud.”

“She is, sir. Thank you for saying so.”

I grope the wall for balance as a cinder block settles in my chest. My knees buckle from the sheer weight of it … from the magnitude of what just transpired. I know that voice. I love that voice. That voice has single handedly crushed me more times than I can count, but they all pale in comparison to what I just heard.

Holly manages to pull me into a nearby restroom and lowers me onto the chaise in the sitting area. I shake my head in denial.

“Everything’s changing, Holly. I’m leaving. Now he’s leaving. For the military. Why hasn’t he said anything to me?”

Holly knows me too well, so she doesn’t say a word. She holds my hand as I process yet another obstacle.

Why? Why did I ever find West, only to have him taken away?

“
Wild Horses
” by The Sundays

“HEY POPPY. WHAT’S on the agenda today? Wanna draw my armpit? How about my butt crack?” he jokes as he slightly lowers his shorts, revealing the elastic of his boxers.

The sun is hidden behind the clouds this morning, matching my somber mood. Our hiding spot feels gloomy and depressing today.

“How about I sketch your back as you run away from me?” I say in a voice void of emotion.

His face falls when he hears my words. I try to make him hold my eyes, but his gaze keeps drifting to the ground.

I’m in no mood to joke with him. I’ve had a few days to come to terms with the fact that he’s leaving, but it still stings that I didn’t find out from him. The truth is I’m so proud of him—scared to lose him, but proud nonetheless. I feel as if my heart is being torn in two directions, one part admiring his sacrifice and the other breaking from the inevitable loss.

West is the epitome of selflessness, so I’m not surprised that he wants to serve his country. Although I’m not sure how he’s going to leave his family. They are everything to him, and I know they depend on him heavily.

“You know.”

“What, West? What do I know?”

“I wanted to be the one to tell you. I was gonna do it today.” He runs a hand over his face in frustration and lets out a heaving sigh. “Everything just happened so quickly. The only people I’ve told are my family and your dad. I never imagined he would say anything. I’m so sorry, Alex. It should have been me.”

My irritation recedes slightly in the face of his explanation. I know this is difficult for him. I know he didn’t make this decision hastily.

“He didn’t tell me, West. I overheard you talking to him.” I move closer to him. “I just … I don’t know. I don’t understand what’s happening. I know I’m leaving, too, but this is so much bigger. So much bigger.”

“I know, Alex. You think I don’t know that? Believe me, I do.” His voice vibrates with intensity. I grab his hand and squeeze tightly in a small show of support.

“I don’t mean to be one more thing for you to worry about, West. I’m just trying to understand where all of this is coming from.” I try to temper my voice, not let on to how much I’m hurting.

“I’ve always wanted to join the Army, but it was never an option with Lucy being sick and my mom needing help. But now, there’s no other way out.”

The tension pulsing through him is off-putting. I’m not used to seeing him this way. He always bears the brunt of the responsibility, whatever the situation, but today it seems too heavy for him to carry alone.

“Way out of what, West? I don’t understand.”

He shakes his head, and his fists clench in frustration. I pull my hand back from him, his grip hurting me. He realizes his mistake and reaches out to me immediately. I take his hand and lead him to sit with me under the tree.

“The bills, Alex. All of the fucking bills. I’ve been trying my best to pay things without my mom catching wind of it, but it’s never enough. Do you have any idea how much a pediatric pulmonologist costs? An ER visit? I’m drowning. We’re drowning.”

“I’m so sorry, West. I had no idea it was this bad. Can I do something to help? I’m sure my dad would—”

“Don’t even say it. He’s done enough for me … and it wouldn’t help anyway. Don’t you see, it’s endless. I dig my way out of the hole, only to have more dirt thrown on me. If I join the Army, I live on their dime and send every penny to my family. I won’t make a fortune, but I’ll live virtually expense-free while Mom and Lucy use my entire paycheck to chip away at the debt. It’s the way it has to be.”

I shift closer to him and wrap my arms around his waist. I lay my head on his chest and breathe him in. His shoulders relax, if only slightly. The need to comfort him is overwhelming. I want to wash it all away for him, hold the world at bay while I erase the worry permanently etched in his forehead.

“Everything is going to be okay, West. I just know it,” I lie. I don’t know that everything will be okay. I don’t know anything at all.

We sit in electrified silence, the crackling of dead leaves under us the only sound. I memorize the feel of him, the smell of him, the rhythm of his breathing. I’m lost in the moment, already anticipating the loss that’s to come.

“I leave in a month.”

The words cut through the silence like a judgment. Instead of hurt, I’m filled with resolve. I won’t let him push me away anymore. I’m done playing by his rules.

I rise up to meet the storm brewing in his eyes. His hand wraps firmly around my neck, and his eyes dart hungrily to my lips. I swallow nervously and refuse to look away.

If he turns his head or pulls my hair, I swear I’m going to tackle him to the ground.

I lean in hopefully, somewhat expectantly, and close my eyes. His warm breath dances across my lips, and my every prayer is answered. He presses his mouth firmly to mine and stills, almost memorizing the moment.

That one small touch is the beginning of the most memorable kiss of my life. It’s hello and goodbye, I love you, I’ll miss you, and everything in between.

He sucks my bottom lip, and I inhale sharply, completely overcome. His hands dive into my hair, and his tongue slides against mine just once before he pulls away. He touches my forehead to his and chuckles softly.

“What have we been waiting for all this time?”

“You,” I whisper breathlessly, “I’ve been waiting for you.”

My admission is all he needs. He devours me, a tangle of lips, teeth, tongues, and hands. I don’t know where I end and he begins. I’m exhilarated and relieved all at once.

I run my hands down his arms and grip his wrists tightly. I pull away and look into his hooded eyes.

“Tell me something, West. Tell me something I don’t know.”

He runs a thumb over my swollen lips while he studies me. I’ve never felt more loved, more worshipped.

“I can’t imagine a world without you in it. No matter where I am, I’ll always dream of you. It’ll have to be enough.” He places soft, scorching kisses up my neck until he reaches my ear. “God, I don’t think it’ll ever be enough.”

“
What If You
” by Joshua Radin

“
Fireflies
” by Ron Pope

“MORE TO DRINK, darling?” Momma asks as she holds up the pitcher of sweet tea. Those are the first words she’s uttered since I’ve joined her at the kitchen island.

I shake my head in response and continue picking at my chicken salad sandwich. She’s offered an olive branch in the form of sandwiches, sweet tea, and pound cake. Who am I to refuse? The silent treatment is wearing on me, so I eagerly accepted her invitation.

My dad and Emmett had a ten o’clock tee time this morning, so they won’t be home until mid-afternoon. It’s just the two of us, and I’m curious. Is this the part where she chains me to my bed and forbids me to leave for New York? Luckily, I have my running shoes on, and I’m not afraid to use them.

“Do you remember your Aunt Jesse, Alexandra? You’ve met her a few times,” my mother asks as she anxiously taps the black granite countertop with her perfectly manicured nails. She quickly clasps her hands together to mask her nerves.

“Um…” I hold a napkin to my mouth and swallow quickly. “Yes, ma’am, I remember meeting her once or twice. She doesn’t live around here, right?”

“No, she moved far away the moment the calendar flipped to her eighteenth birthday. She’s come home a few times throughout the years, but her relationship with the family has always been … tumultuous.”

“Okay? Why are you asking me about her?”

She ignores my question as she fingers the pearls draped on her neck, lost in her own thoughts. A tiny smile plays on her lips.

“It was just the two of us, you know? She was my baby sister, and I mothered her every chance I got. Goodness gracious, I loved that little girl.” Her voice is soft, almost wistful. “She gave Mimi fits. She enrolled her in piano lessons, but Jesse wanted to play the drums. Instead of tennis, she signed up for soccer. Mother always taught us to be quiet, respectful, and gracious. Children should be seen and not heard, she always said. Jesse was loud, boisterous, larger than life.”

“She sounds like a lot of fun,” I say quietly.

“Oh, she was. In between the constant groundings and heated arguments, she was a bright light. Chaos in the face of uniformity.”

I’m unsure where this conversation is going, but I love hearing my mother reminisce. I feel closer to her right now than I have since I was a little girl. She’s always so stoic—it’s refreshing to see her vulnerable side.

“On our sixteenth birthdays, Mimi gave each of us a strand of pearls. I was so proud when she clasped them on my neck. I’ve never stood so tall.” I chance a look at her, and I’m surprised to see the tears pooling in her eyes. “Jesse said when Mimi placed the pearls on her, they felt like thick chains, choking her to death. She ran to her room and took them off immediately. She never wore them again after that day. Mimi took it as an insult, one of many. The rules, the expectations—Jesse said it was all so suffocating.”

A tear escapes and trickles down her cheek as she fights for composure. I can’t remember a time in my life where I’ve seen my mother cry.
Composure, Alexandra. A true Southern lady is always in control of her emotions.

“You remind me so much of her, Alexandra, and it scares me to death.” She runs a finger across my cheek and tips my chin. “Do I … does this life feel like an albatross around your neck? Are you suffocating?”

“If I blindly followed the plan that you’d decided for me? Yes, I’d probably feel that way. But I can’t do that. You know I can’t do that. I love you and Daddy with all of my heart, but I can’t be something I’m not.”

“I know that, darling. Deep down, I truly do. But I’m so afraid you’ll leave and never look back, just like Aunt Jesse. I’m so afraid of losing you.”