A Thousand Boy Kisses

Poppy

“You’re going on a date?” Savannah asked, as she and Ida lay on my bed. They watched my reflection in my mirror. Watched as I looped my infinity earrings through my ears. Watched as I applied a final layer of mascara.

“Yeah, a date,” I replied.

Ida and Savannah glanced at each other with wide eyes. Ida turned back to look at me. “With Rune? Rune Kristiansen?”

This time, I turned to face them. The shock on their faces was unsettling. “Yes, with Rune. Why are y’all so surprised?”

Savannah sat up, hands braced on the mattress. “Because the Rune Kristiansen that everyone’s been talking about wouldn’t go on dates. The Rune who smokes and drinks at the field. The one that doesn’t speak, the one that scowls instead of smiles. The bad boy that returned a different person from Norway. That Rune.”

I stared at Savannah and picked out the concern on her face. My stomach rolled, listening to what people had obviously been saying about Rune.

“Yeah, but all the girls like him,” Ida butted in, flashing me a smile. “People were jealous of you when you were with him before he left. They’re gonna freakin’ die now!”

As those words slipped from her lips, I saw Ida slowly lose her smile. She glanced down, then looked back up. “Does he know?”

Savannah was now wearing the same sad look. So sad that I had to turn away. I couldn’t bear that expression on their faces.

“Poppy?” said Savannah.

“He knows.”

“How did he take it?” Ida inquired tentatively.

I smiled through the flash of pain in my heart. I faced my sisters, the two of them watching me as though I could disappear from their eyes any second. I shrugged. “Not well.”

Savannah’s eyes began to glisten. “I’m sorry, Pops.”

“I shouldn’t have cut him off,” I stated. “It’s why he’s so angry all the time. It’s why he’s so standoffish. I hurt him, deeply. When I told him, it seemed to destroy him, but then he asked me on a date. My Rune, finally taking me on a date, after all these years.”

Ida quickly wiped her cheek. “Do Mama and Daddy know?”

I grimaced, then shook my head. Savannah and Ida looked at each other, then at me, and in seconds we were all laughing.

Ida rolled on her back, holding her stomach. “Oh my Lord, Pops! Daddy’s gonna flip! All he’s talked about since the Kristiansens got back is how much Rune has changed for the worse, how he’s disrespectful because he smokes and shouts at his pappa.” Flipping around, she sat up. “He ain’t gonna let you go.”

My laughter stopped. I knew my mama and daddy were concerned about Rune’s attitude, but I hadn’t known how badly they judged him.

“Is he coming to our door?” Savannah asked.

I shook my head, although I was unsure what he would do.

Suddenly the doorbell rang.

We all looked at one another, wide-eyed. I frowned. “This can’t be Rune,” I exclaimed in surprise. He always came to my window. He was never formal; it just wasn’t us. Certainly it wasn’t him.

Savannah read the clock on my nightstand. “It’s six o’clock. Ain’t that the time he was coming?”

With one final look in the mirror, I grabbed my jacket and rushed through my bedroom door, my sisters hard on my heels. As I rounded the hallway, I saw my daddy open the door, his face dropping when he saw whoever was there.

I skidded to a halt.

Savannah and Ida stopped beside me. Ida grabbed my hand when we heard a familiar voice say, “Mr. Litchfield.”

At the sound of his voice, my heart stuttered mid-beat. I watched as my daddy drew back his head in confusion. “Rune?” he asked. “What are you doing here?”

My daddy was being his usual polite self, but I could hear a wariness in his tone. I could hear a slight edge of worry, maybe even a deeper concern.

“I’m here for Poppy,” Rune told my daddy. My daddy’s hand tightened on the doorknob.

“For Poppy?” he clarified. I peeked around the wall, hoping to catch a glimpse of Rune. Ida squeezed my arm.

I looked at my sister. “OMG!” she mouthed dramatically.

I shook my head while silently laughing at her. She refocused her attention on my daddy, but I stared at her excited face for a fraction longer. It was moments like this, the carefree moments where we were just three sisters gossiping about dates, that struck me the hardest. Feeling a pair of eyes watching me, I turned my head toward Savannah.

Without words, she told me she understood.

Savannah’s hand pressed on my shoulder, as I heard Rune explain, “I’m taking her out, sir.” He paused. “On a date.”

My daddy’s face blanched, and I pushed forward. As I moved toward the door to rescue Rune, Ida whispered in my ear, “Poppy, you’re my new hero. Look at Daddy’s face!”

I rolled my eyes and laughed. Savannah grabbed Ida and pulled her back, out of sight. But they’d still be watching. They wouldn’t miss this for the world.

A flush of nerves swept through me as I approached the door. I saw my daddy begin to shake his head. Then his gaze fixed on me.

His confused eyes surveyed my dress, the bow in my hair and the make-up on my face. He turned a whiter shade of pale.

“Poppy?” my daddy asked. I lifted my head high.

“Hey, Daddy,” I replied. The door still blocked Rune, but I could see his blurred dark figure through the stained-glass panel. I could smell his fresh scent drifting in on the cool breeze that filtered through the house.

My heart raced in anticipation.

Daddy pointed at Rune. “Rune here seems to think he’s taking you out.” He said it as though it couldn’t possibly be true, but I heard the doubt in his voice.

“Yes,” I confirmed.

I heard the hushed whispers of my sisters coming from behind us. I saw my mama watching from the shadow of the living room.

“Poppy—” My daddy went to speak, but I stepped forward, cutting him off.

“It’s okay,” I assured him. “I’ll be fine.” It seemed like my daddy couldn’t move. I used this awkward moment to walk around the door and greet Rune.

I felt my lungs seize and my heart stop dead.

Rune was dressed all in black: t-shirt, jeans, suede boots, and leather biker jacket. His long hair was down. I savored the moment when he lifted his hand and pushed it through his hair. He was leaning against the doorway, an air of arrogance radiating from his casual stance.

When his eyes, bright under frowning dark-blond brows, fell on me, I saw light flare in his gaze. His eyes slowly tracked over my body, over my long-sleeved yellow dress, down my legs, and back up to the white bow holding up one side of my hair. His nostrils flaring and his pupils enlarging were the only evidence that he liked what he saw.

Blushing under his heavy stare, I dragged in a breath. The air was thick and full. The tension between us was palpable. I realized in that moment that it was possible to miss someone fiercely even though mere hours had passed since you’d last been together.

The clearing of my daddy’s throat hurled me back to reality. I glanced back. Putting a reassuring hand on his arm, I said, “I’ll be back later Daddy, okay?”

Not waiting for his response, I ducked under his arm that was leaning on the door, and out onto the porch. Rune slowly pushed his body away from the doorframe and turned to follow me. When we reached the end of the driveway I turned to him.

His intense gaze was already on me, his jaw clenching as I waited for him to speak. Peering over his shoulder, I saw my daddy watching us leave, that worried expression still marring his face.

Rune looked back, but didn’t react. He didn’t say a single word. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a set of keys. He flicked his chin toward his mamma’s Range Rover. “I got the car,” was all he said, as he walked forward.

I followed him, heart thudding as I made my way to the car. I focused on the ground to steady my nerves. When I looked up, Rune had opened the passenger door for me. Suddenly, all of my nerves slipped away.

There he stood, like a dark angel, watching me, waiting for me to climb inside. Smiling at him as I passed, I jumped in the car, blushing with happiness as he gently closed the door and got in the driver’s side.

Rune started the engine without a word, his attention fixed on my house through the windscreen. There was my daddy, still as a rock, watching us leave.

Rune’s jaw clenched once more.

“He’s just protective, is all,” I explained, my voice breaching the silence. Rune cast me a sideways look. With a dark glare at my daddy, Rune pulled out of the street, a thick silence gradually intensifying the farther we drove.

Rune’s hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, knuckles white. I could feel the anger rolling off him in waves. It made me feel so sad. Never before had I seen anyone harbor so much rage.

I couldn’t imagine living like this every day. Couldn’t imagine feeling that barbed coil forever in my stomach, that aching of the heart.

Inhaling, I turned to Rune and tentatively asked, “Are you okay?”

Rune exhaled harshly through his nose. He nodded his head once, then pushed back his hair. My eyes fell to his biker jacket and I smiled.

Rune arched his right brow. “What?” he asked, the sound of his deep voice rumbling through my chest.

“Just you,” I replied evasively.

Rune darted his gaze to the road, then back to me. When he repeated it several more times, I could tell it was because he was desperate to know what I was thinking.

Reaching out, I let my hand drift over the distressed leather on the arm of his jacket. Rune’s muscles bunched under my palm.

“I can see why all the girls in town have a crush on you.” I said. “Ida was telling me all about it tonight. How all of them would be jealous that I was on a date with you.”

Rune’s eyebrows drew down. I laughed, truly laughed, at the lines on his forehead. He rubbed his lips together as I giggled louder, but I could see the sparkle in his eyes. I could see him disguising his amusement.

Sighing lightly, I wiped my eyes. I noticed that Rune’s hands had slackened some on the wheel. His jaw wasn’t so tense and his eyes weren’t so narrowed.

Taking the opportunity while I could, I explained, “Since I got sick, Daddy got more protective. He doesn’t hate you, Rune. He just doesn’t know this new you. He didn’t even know we’d been speaking again.”

Rune sat still, saying nothing.

This time I didn’t try to talk. It was clear that Rune had slipped back into a mood. But nowadays, I wasn’t sure how to bring him out of it. If I even could. I turned to watch the world outside as we drove. I had no idea where we were going, the excitement making it impossible to sit still.

Suddenly hating the quiet in the car, I leaned over to the radio and switched it on. I flicked the dial to my favorite channel; the harmonies of my favorite girl band filled the car.

“I love this song,” I said happily, sitting back in my seat as the slow piano melody began filling every corner of the car. I listened to the opening bars, singing along quietly to the stripped-back acoustic version of the song. My favorite version.

I closed my eyes, letting the heartbreaking lyrics flow into my mind and out through my lips. I smiled when the string section struck up in the background, deepening the emotion with its dulcet sounds.

This was why I loved music.

Only music had the ability to steal my breath, and give life to the song’s story so flawlessly. So profoundly. I opened my eyes and found Rune’s face had lost all anger. His blue eyes were watching me, as much as they could. His hands were tighter on the wheel, but there was something else in his expression.

My mouth grew dry as he glanced at me again, his face unreadable. “It’s about a girl who desperately loves a boy, with her whole heart. They keep their love a secret, but she doesn’t want it to be that way. She wants the world to know that he’s hers and she’s his.”

Then, to my utter surprise, Rune rasped, “Keep singing.”

I saw it on his face; I saw his need to hear me.

So I did.

I wasn’t a strong singer. So I sang it soft, I sang it true. I sang the lyrics, embracing every word. As I sang the song about love requited, I sang them with heart. These lyrics, these passionate pleas, I had lived.

Still lived.

They were Rune and me. Our separation. My foolish plan: to keep him out of my life, to save him from pain, unexpectedly wounding both of us in the process. Loving him from here in America, him loving me from Oslo, in return, in secret.

When the last lyric faded, I opened my eyes, my chest aching from the rawness of the emotions. Another song began to play, one I didn’t know. I could feel Rune’s watchful gaze boring into me, yet I couldn’t lift my head.

Something was making it impossible.

I let my head roll against the headrest, and I stared out the window. “I love music,” I said, almost to myself.

“I know you do,” Rune answered. His voice was firm, strong and clear. But in that tone, I caught a hint of tenderness. Of something gentle. Caring. I rolled my head to face him. I didn’t say anything as our eyes met. I simply smiled. It was small and timid, but Rune let out a slow breath as I did.

We made a left and another left, taking us down a dark country road. My eyes never left Rune. I thought about how truly beautiful he was. I let myself imagine how he would look in ten years’ time. He’d be broader, I was sure. I wondered if his hair would still be long. I wondered what he’d be doing with his life.

I prayed that it would be something to do with photography.

Photography brought the same soul-enhancing peace to him as my cello did to me. Since he’d returned, though, I hadn’t seen his camera once. He said it himself, he didn’t take photos anymore.

That made me sadder than anything.

Then, I did the one thing I had told myself long ago I would never allow—I imagined what we would look like in ten years’ time, together. Married, living in an apartment in Soho, New York. I would be cooking in our cramped kitchen. I’d be dancing to music playing from the radio in the background. And Rune would be sitting at the counter watching me, taking photos as he documented our lives. And he’d reach out from behind his lens to run his finger down my cheek. I’d swat his hand away playfully and I’d laugh. That would be when he’d click the button on the camera. That would be the shot I’d see later that night waiting for me on my pillow.

His perfectly captured moment in time.

His perfect second. Love in still life.

A tear fell from my eyes as I held onto that image. The image that could never be us. I allowed myself a moment of feeling the pain, before I hid it deep. Then I let myself feel happy that he would get the opportunity to fulfil his passion and become a photographer. I’d be watching on from my new home in heaven, smiling with him.

As Rune concentrated on the road, I let myself whisper, “I’ve missed you … I’ve missed you so, so much.”

Rune froze, every part of his body becoming still. Then he hit the turn signal and pulled over onto the edge of the road. I sat up, wondering what was happening. The engine purred beneath us, but Rune’s hands slipped from the wheel.

His eyes were downcast, hands lying on his lap. He momentarily gripped his jeans, then he turned his head to face me. His expression was haunted.

Torn.

But it softened when he fixed his gaze on me, and said in a rough whisper, “I’ve missed you too. So damn much, Poppymin.”

My heart lurched forward, taking my pulse along with it. They both raced, they both made my head dizzy as I drank in the honesty in his graveled voice. The beautiful look on his face.

Not knowing what else to say, I laid my hand on the center console. My palm was facing up, fingers open. After several silent seconds, Rune slowly placed his hand in mine and we linked our fingers tightly together. Shivers ghosted through my body at the feel of his large hand holding mine.

Yesterday confused us both, neither one knowing what to do, where to go, how to find our way back to us. This date was our start. These joined hands, a reminder. A reminder that we were Poppy and Rune. Somewhere under all the hurt and pain, under all the new layers we’d acquired, we were still here.

In love.

Two halves of one heart.

And I didn’t care what anyone said about it. My time was precious but, I realized, not as precious to me as Rune. Without breaking our hands, Rune put the car into drive and we pulled back out onto the road. After a moment, I could see where we were going.

The creek.

I smiled wide as we pulled into the old restaurant, its deck adorned with strings of blue lights, large heaters warming the outdoor tables. The car drew to a halt and I turned to Rune. “You brought me to the creek for our date? To Tony’s Shack?”

My mamaw would bring Rune and me here when we were kids. On a Sunday night. Just like tonight. She lived for their crawfish. She happily traveled all this way to get them.

Rune nodded. I tried to pull my hand away, and he frowned. “Rune,” I teased, “we have to get out of the car at some point. To do that, we have to break hands.”

Rune reluctantly let go, his eyebrows pulling down as he did. I grabbed my coat, and climbed out of the car. As soon as I shut the door, Rune was by my side. Reaching down, not seeking permission, he took hold of my hand again.

By his grip, I was convinced he’d never let go.

A gust of wind blew in from the water as we walked toward the entrance. Rune stopped. Silently, he took my coat from my hand and unclasped our linked fingers. Shaking the coat, he held it out for me to put on.

I went to protest, but a dark look passed over Rune’s face and I sighed. Turning around, I pushed my arms into my parka, turning back when Rune’s arm guided me before him. Focusing intently on the task, he zipped up my coat until the cold night air was held at bay.

I waited for Rune’s hands to drop from my collar, but instead, they lingered. His minty breath drifted over my cheeks. He glanced up momentarily, catching my eyes. My skin bumped at the flash of shyness those eyes held. Then, latching his gaze on mine, he inched closer and said softly, “Did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight?”

My toes curled in my boots at the thickness of his accent. Rune may have looked calm and aloof, but I knew him. When his accent was thicker, so were his nerves.

I shook my head. “No,” I whispered. Rune glanced away.

When he looked back, his hands had tightened on my collar, drawing me closer. Hovering his face an inch before mine, he said, “Well you do. Real damn beautiful.”

My heart leaped, it soared. In response, I could only smile. But that seemed enough for Rune. In fact, it seemed to floor him.

Leaning in just that little bit more, Rune’s lips brushed past my ear. “Stay warm, Poppymin. I couldn’t bear for you to get sicker.”

His act of putting on my coat suddenly made sense. He was protecting me. Keeping me safe.

“Okay,” I whispered back. “For you.” He inhaled a quick breath, his eyes closing just a fraction too long for it to be a blink.

He stepped back and took my hand in his. Without speaking, he led me into Tony’s Shack and requested a table for two. The hostess led us around back to the patio overlooking the creek. I hadn’t been here in years, but it hadn’t changed one bit. The water was quiet and still, a piece of heaven hidden away amongst the trees.

The hostess stopped at a table at the back of the busy patio. I smiled, about to take my seat, when Rune said, “No.” My eyes flew to Rune, as did the hostess’s. He pointed to the furthest table on the deck, one right on the edge of the water. “That one,” he demanded, curtly.

The young hostess nodded. “Certainly,” she replied, slightly flustered. She led us across the patio to the table.

Rune took the lead, his hand still clutching mine. As we threaded our way through the tables, I noticed girls staring at him. Rather than be upset by their attention, I followed their gazes, trying to see him with fresh eyes. I found that difficult. He was so ingrained in my every memory, so carved into the fabric of who I was, that it made it almost impossible. But I tried and tried, until I saw what they must have seen.

Mysterious and brooding.

My very own bad boy.

The hostess left the menus on the wooden table and turned to Rune. “Is this okay, sir?” Rune nodded, a scowl still etched on his face.

Flushing, the hostess told us our server would be here soon and hurriedly left us alone. I glanced at Rune, but his eyes were looking over the creek. I broke my hand away from his, so I could take my seat, and as soon as I did, his head snapped around and his brow furrowed.

I smiled at his grouchiness. Rune dropped to the chair overlooking the water, and I sat in the seat opposite. But as soon as I sat down, Rune reached around and gripped the arm of my chair. I shrieked as he pulled on the chair, dragging it toward him. I jerked in the seat as it moved, clutching on to the arms until he’d repositioned it.

Repositioned it, next to him.

Right beside him, so my chair now overlooked the creek too.

Rune didn’t react to the slight blush on my cheeks, as my insides warmed at this simple gesture. In fact, he didn’t even seem to notice. He was too busy retaking possession of my hand. Too busy locking our fingers in place. Too busy never letting me go.

Reaching forward, Rune adjusted the heater above us to its highest setting, only relaxing back in his chair when the flames roared higher behind their iron guard. My heart melted when he brought our joined hands to his mouth, the back of my hand brushing back and forth over his lips in a hypnotic motion.

Rune’s eyes were fixed on the water. Even though I adored the trees embracing the water in a protective cocoon, as much as I loved to watch the ducks dip and dive, the cranes swoop and soar above the surface, I could only watch Rune.

Something had changed in him from last night. I didn’t know what. He was still abrupt and surly. There was darkness in his personality; his aura warned almost all to stay well clear.

But now there was a new edge of possession with regard to me. I could see the fierceness of that possession in his stare. I could feel it in his grip on my hand.

And I liked it.

As much as I missed the Rune I knew, I watched this Rune with renewed fascination. Right now, sitting beside him in a place that meant so much to us both, I was perfectly content to be in the company of this Rune.

More than content.

It made me feel alive.

The server arrived: a guy, maybe in his twenties. Rune’s hold tightened on my hand. My heart swelled.

He was jealous.

“Hey, y’all. Can I get y’all started with some drinks?” the server asked.

“Can I get a sweet tea, please?” I replied, feeling Rune stiffen beside me.

“Root beer,” Rune barked. The server quickly retreated. When he was out of earshot, Rune snapped, “He couldn’t keep his eyes off you.”

I shook my head and laughed. “You’re crazy.”

Rune’s forehead lined with frustration. This time it was his turn to shake his head. “You have no idea.”

“About what?” I asked, moving my free hand to trace a couple of new scars on Rune’s knuckles. I wondered where they were from. I heard his breathing hitch.

“About how beautiful you are,” he replied. He was watching my finger as he said it. When my finger stopped he looked up.

I stared at him, lost for words.

Finally, Rune’s lip hooked at the side into a crooked half-smile. He shifted closer to me. “Still drinking sweet tea, I see.”

He remembered.

Gently nudging his side, I said, “Still on the root beer, I see.”

Rune shrugged. “Can’t get it back in Oslo. Now I’m back, I can’t get enough of the stuff.” I smiled and began re-tracing his hand. “Turns out I can’t get enough of a few things I couldn’t get back in Oslo.”

My finger stopped moving. I knew exactly what he was talking about: me.

“Rune,” I said, the guilt lying thick within me.

I looked up to try and apologize again, but as I did, the server arrived, placing our drinks on the table. “Y’all ready to order?”

Without breaking my gaze, Rune said, “Two crawfish boils.”

I felt the server hanging by, but after a tense few seconds, he said, “I’ll get that to the kitchen then,” and edged away.

Rune’s eyes moved from my face to my ears, where that flicker of a smirk remerged. I wondered what had caused him this moment of happiness. Rune leaned forward, and with the backs of his fingers he pushed the hair from my face, tucking it behind my ear.

His fingertip traced down the outline of my ear, then he let out a comforting sigh. “You still wear them.”

The earrings.

My infinity earrings.

“Always,” I confirmed. Rune looked up at me with heavy eyes. “Forever always.”

Rune dropped his hand, but he caught the ends of my hair between his finger and thumb. “You cut your hair.”

It sounded like a statement, but I knew it was a question.

“My hair grew back,” I said. I saw him stiffen. Not wanting to break tonight’s magic with talk of illness or treatment, things that I paid no mind to anyhow, I leaned in and pressed my forehead to his.

“I lost my hair. Fortunately, hair grows.” Drawing back, I playfully flicked at my bob. “Plus, I kinda like it. I think I suit it. Lord knows it’s easier to handle than the mountain of frizz I fought against all those years.”

I knew it had worked when Rune huffed a single quiet laugh. Continuing the joke, I added, “Plus, only Viking men should wear their hair long. Vikings and bikers.” I scrunched up my nose as I pretended to study Rune. “Unfortunately you don’t have a bike…” I trailed off, laughing at the hard look on Rune’s face.

I was still laughing when he pulled me into his chest and, with his mouth at my ear, said, “I could get a bike, if that’s what you want. If that’s what it would take to win back your love.”

He said it as a joke.

I knew he did.

But it brought me up short. So short that I stilled, the humor draining out of me. Rune noticed the shift. His Adam’s apple bobbed and he swallowed whatever he was going to say.

Letting my heart rule my actions, I lifted my hand and dropped my palm to lie upon his face. Making sure I had his undivided attention, I whispered, “It wouldn’t take a bike to do that, Rune.”

“No?” he questioned, his voice husky.

I shook my head.

“Why?” he asked nervously. Redness blossomed on his cheeks. I could see what that question had cost his heavily fortified pride. I could see that Rune didn’t ask anything anymore.

Closing the gap between us, I said in a hushed voice, “Because I’m pretty sure you never lost it.”

I waited. I waited with bated breath to see what he would do next.

I wasn’t expecting tender and soft. I wasn’t expecting for my heart to sigh and my soul to melt.

Rune, with the most careful of movements, moved forward and kissed me on my cheek, only inching back to drag his lips across mine. I held my breath in anticipation of a kiss on the lips. A real kiss. A kiss I yearned for. But instead, he bypassed my mouth for my other cheek, giving it the kiss my lips longed to gain.

When Rune pulled away, my heart was beating like a drum. A loud bass in my chest. Rune sat back but his hand, in my hand, had tightened a fraction.

A secret smile took refuge behind my lips.

A sound from over the creek pulled my attention—a duck taking flight into the dark sky. When I glanced at Rune, I saw he was watching it too. When he looked my way, I teased, “You’re already a Viking. You don’t need no bike.”

This time Rune smiled. The merest hint of teeth showed through. I beamed with pride.

The server approached, carrying our crawfish, and placed the buckets on the paper-covered table. Rune reluctantly released my hand, and we started ripping into the mountain of seafood. I closed my eyes when I tasted the meaty flesh on my tongue, a burst of lemon hitting my throat.

I groaned at how good it was.

Rune shook his head, laughing at me. I threw a broken bit of shell into his lap and he scowled. Wiping my hand on the napkin, I tipped my head back toward the night sky. The stars were bright in their cloudless blanket of black.

“Have you ever seen anything so beautiful as this little creek?” I asked. Rune looked up, then out along the quiet creek, the reflection of blue-stringed lights twinkling back at us.

“I’d say yes,” he answered in a matter-of-fact tone, then pointed to me. “But I get what you’re saying. Even when I was back in Oslo, I would sometimes picture this place, wondering if you had been back.”

“No, this is the first time. Mama and Daddy aren’t real big crawfish fans; it was always Mamaw.” I smiled, picturing her sitting beside us at this table, after sneaking us away. “Do you remember,”—I laughed—“she would bring her hipflask full of bourbon with her, to slip into her sweet tea?” I laughed harder. “Do you remember her putting her finger over her lips and saying, ‘Now don’t y’all be telling your folks about this. I had the good grace to bring y’all here, rescuing y’all from church. So no loose lips!’?” Rune was smiling too, but his eyes were watching me laugh.

“You miss her,” he said.

I nodded my head. “Every day. I wonder what other adventures we could have been on together. I often wonder if we would have gone to Italy to see Assisi, just like we talked about. I wonder if we would have gone to Spain, to run with the bulls.” At that thought I laughed again. A peace settled over me, then I added, “But, the best part of all this is I’ll see her again soon.” I met Rune’s eyes. “When I return home.”

Like my mamaw had taught me, I never ever thought of what would happen to me as dying. The end. It was the beginning of something great. My soul would be returning home where it belonged.

I hadn’t realized I had upset Rune, until he rose from his chair to walk along the small pier next to our table, the pier that led to the middle of the creek.

The server came over. I watched Rune light a cigarette as he disappeared into the dark, only a cloud of smoke betraying where he stood.

“Shall I clear up, ma’am?” the server inquired.

I smiled and nodded. “Yes, please.” I stood, and he looked puzzled, seeing Rune on the deck. “Can we have the check as well, please?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied.

I walked out onto the deck to meet Rune, following the tiny speck of his lit cigarette. When I arrived at his side he was leaning over the railing, staring absently at nothing.

A soft crease was marring his forehead. His back was tense; it tensed even more when I stopped beside him. He took in a long drag of his cigarette and released it into the gentle breeze.

“I can’t deny what’s happening to me, Rune,” I said cautiously. He remained silent. “I can’t live in a fantasy. I know what’s coming. I know how this will go.”

Rune’s breathing was ragged and his head dropped. When he lifted his eyes, he said brokenly, “It’s not fair.”

My heart cried for his pain. I could see it racking his face, see it in the bunching of his muscles. Leaning forward on the railing, I inhaled the cool air. When Rune’s breathing had settled, I said, “It would have been really unfair had we not been gifted the next precious months.”

Rune’s forehead fell slowly to rest upon his hands.

“Don’t you see a bigger picture for us both here, Rune? You came back to Blossom Grove only a few weeks after I had been sent home to live out the rest of my life. To enjoy the limited few months granted by medication.” I looked at the stars again, feeling the presence of something greater smiling down on us. “For you it’s unfair. I believe the opposite. We came back together for a reason. Perhaps it’s a lesson we may struggle to learn until it’s learned.”

I turned and pushed back the long hair covering his face. In the moonlight, underneath the glittering stars, I saw a tear tumble down his cheeks.

I cleared it with a kiss.

Rune turned into me, tucking his head into the crook of my neck. I wrapped my hand around his head, holding him close.

Rune’s back rose with a deep inhale. “I brought you here tonight to remind you of when we were happy. When we were inseparable, best friends and more. But—”

He cut his words off. I gently pushed back his head to look at his face “What?” I asked. “Please, tell me. I promise I’m okay.”

He searched my eyes, then stared across the still water. When his gaze returned to me, he asked, “But what if this is the last time we ever get to do this?”

Pushing myself between him and the railing, I took the cigarette from his hand and threw it into the creek. Standing on my tiptoes, I took both his cheeks in my hands. “Then we had tonight,” I asserted. Rune’s face winced at my words. “We’ve had this memory. We’ve had this cherished moment.” My head tipped to the side and a nostalgic smile pulled on my lips. “I used to know a boy, a boy I loved with my whole heart, who lived for a single moment. Who told me that a single moment could change the world. It could change someone’s life. That one moment could make someone’s life, in that brief second, infinitely better or infinitely worse.”

He closed his eyes, but I continued to speak. “This, tonight, being at this creek with you again,” I said, feeling a sense of peace fill my soul, “remembering my mamaw and why I loved her so much … it has made my life infinitely better. This moment, given to me by you, I will remember always. I will take it with me to … wherever I go.”

Rune’s eyes opened. I pulled him down further. “You gave me tonight. You’ve returned. We can’t change the facts, we can’t change our fates, but we can still live. We can live as hard and as fast as we can while we have these days before us. We can be us again: Poppy and Rune.”

I didn’t think he would say anything in return, so it surprised me and filled me with incredible hope when he said, “Our final adventure.”

The perfect way to phrase it, I thought. “Our final adventure,” I whispered into the night, an unprecedented joy infusing my body. Rune’s arms snaked around my waist. “With one amendment,” I said. Rune frowned.

Smoothing the crease on his forehead, I said, “This life’s final adventure. Because I know, with unwavering faith, that we’ll be together again. Even when this adventure is over, a greater one awaits us on the other side. And Rune, there would be no heaven if you weren’t back in my arms someday.”

All six feet four of Rune Kristiansen braced against me. And I held him. I held him until he calmed. When he pulled back, I asked, “So, Rune Kristiansen, Viking from Norway, are you with me?”

Despite himself, Rune laughed. Laughed when I held out my hand for him to shake. Rune, my Scandinavian bad boy with a face made by the angels, slipped his hand into mine and we shook on our promise. Twice. Like my mamaw taught me.

“I’m with you,” he said. I felt his vow all the way to my toes.

“Ma’am, sir?” I looked over Rune’s shoulder to see the server holding our check. “We’re closing up,” he explained.

“You okay?” I asked Rune, signaling to the server that we were coming.

Rune nodded, his heavy brows pushing his face back into his familiar scowl. I imitated how he looked by scrunching my face. Rune, unable to resist, gave me his good-humored smirk. “Only you,” he said, more to himself than to me, “Poppymin.” Slipping his hand back into mine, he slowly guided me to the front of the shack.

When we were back in the car, Rune turned on the engine and said, “We have one more place to go.”

“Another memorable moment?”

As we pulled out onto the road, Rune took my hand in his across the console and replied, “I hope so, Poppymin. I hope so.”

* * *

It took us a while to drive back to town. We didn’t talk much. I had come to understand that Rune was quieter than he used to be. Not that he was exactly an extrovert before. He was always introverted and quiet. He fit nicely the image of the brooding artist, head always juggling places and landscapes he wanted to capture on film.

Moments.

We had traveled only a mile or so down the road when Rune turned the radio on. He told me to pick any station I wanted. And when I quietly sang, his fingers tightened just that bit more in mine.

A yawn escaped my mouth as we approached the edge of town, but I fought to keep my eyes open. I wanted to know where he was taking me.

When we stopped outside the Dixon Theater, my pulse took flight. This was the theater I had always dreamed of performing at. It was the theater I had always wanted to return to when I was older, as part of a professional orchestra. To my home town.

Rune cut the engine, and I stared up at the impressive stone theater. “Rune, what are we doing here?”

Rune released my hand and opened his door. “Come with me.”

Frowning, but my heart racing so impossibly hard, I opened my door to follow him. Rune took my hand and led me to the front entrance.

It was late on a Sunday night, but he led us straight through the front doors. As soon as we entered the dim foyer, I heard the faint sounds of Puccini playing in the background.

My hand tightened in Rune’s. He glanced down at me, a smirk on his lips. “Rune,” I whispered, as he led me up the opulent staircase. “Where are we going?”

Rune pressed his finger over my lips, signaling for me to be quiet. I wondered why, but then he led me to a door … the door that led to the dress circle of the theater.

Rune opened the door, and music washed over me like a wave. Gasping at the sheer volume of the sound, I followed Rune to the front row of seats. Down below was an orchestra, their conductor leading them. I recognized them instantly: The Savannah Chamber Orchestra.

I was transfixed, staring at the musicians focusing so intently on their instruments, swaying in time to the beat. Whipping my head to Rune, I asked, “How did you do this?”

Rune shrugged. “I was looking to take you to see them perform properly, but they’re traveling overseas tomorrow. When I explained to the conductor how much you loved them, he said we could drop in on their rehearsal.”

No words passed through my lips.

I was speechless. Completely and utterly speechless.

Failing to adequately express my feelings, my sheer gratitude for this surprise, I laid my head on his shoulder and cuddled into his arm. The smell of leather filled my nose as my eyes focused on the orchestra below.

I watched in fascination. I watched as the conductor expertly guided the musicians through their rehearsal: the solos, the decorative passages, the intricate harmonies.

Rune held me close, as I sat, mesmerized. Occasionally, I felt his eyes on me: him watching me, me watching them.

But I couldn’t tear my eyes away. Especially from the cello section. When the deep tones rang clear and true, I let my eyes drift to a close.

It was beautiful.

I could picture myself, so clearly, sitting amongst fellow musicians, my friends, staring into this theater, full of the people I knew and loved. Rune sitting, watching with his camera around his neck.

It was the most perfect of dreams.

It had been my biggest dream for as long as I could remember.

The conductor called for the musicians to quiet. I watched the stage. I watched as all but the principal cellist lowered their instruments. The woman, who looked to be in her thirties, pulled her chair to center stage. No audience bar us.

She positioned herself, her bow poised on the string, to start. She concentrated on the conductor. As he raised his baton, instructing her to begin, I heard the first note play. And as I did, I became completely still. I didn’t dare breathe. I didn’t want to hear anything but the most perfect melody ever in existence.

The sound of “The Swan” from Carnival of the Animals drifted up to our seats. I watched the cellist become lost in the music, her facial expressions betraying her emotions with each new note.

I wanted to be her.

In that moment, I wanted to be the cellist playing this piece so perfectly. I wanted to be gifted that trust, the trust of giving this performance.

Everything faded away as I watched her. Then I closed my eyes. I closed my eyes and let the music take hold of my senses. I let it take me on its journey. As the tempo picked up, the vibrato echoing beautifully off the theater’s walls, I opened my eyes.

And the tears came.

The tears came, as the music demanded.

Rune’s hand tightened in mine and I felt his gaze on me. I could sense he was worried that I was upset. But I wasn’t upset. I was soaring. Heart-soaring in the blissful melody.

My cheeks grew wet, but I let the tears flow. This was why music was my passion. From wood and string and bow, this magical melody could be created, stirring life into a soul.

And I stayed that way. I stayed that way until the last note drifted to the ceiling. The cellist raised her bow. Only then did she open her eyes, guiding her spirit to its resting place inside her. Because that’s what she was feeling, I knew. The music had transported her to a distant place, somewhere only she knew. It had moved her.

For a time, the music had graced her with its power.

The conductor nodded and the orchestra walked backstage, leaving silence to occupy the now-empty stage.

But I didn’t turn my head. Not until Rune sat forward, with a hand placed gently upon my back. “Poppymin?” he whispered, his voice guarded and unsure. “I’m sorry,” he said under his breath, “I thought this would make you happ—”

I faced him, clasping both his hands between mine. “No,” I said, interrupting his apology. “No,” I reiterated. “These are tears of joy, Rune. Absolute joy.”

He exhaled, releasing one of his hands to wipe at my cheeks. I laughed, my voice echoing around us. I cleared my throat, chasing away an excess of emotion, and explained, “That’s my favorite piece, Rune. ‘The Swan’”, from the Carnival of the Animals. The principal cellist, she just played my favorite piece. Beautifully. Perfectly.”

I took a deep breath. “It’s the piece I was planning to play when I auditioned for Julliard. It’s always been the piece I pictured myself playing at Carnegie Hall. I know it inside out. I know every note, every shift in tempo, every crescendo … everything.” I sniffed and wiped my eyes. “Hearing it tonight,” I said, squeezing his hand, “sitting next to you … it was a dream come true.”

Rune, too lost for words, placed his arm around my shoulders and pulled me close. I felt his kiss on my head. “Promise, Rune,” I said. “Promise me that when you’re in New York, when you’re studying at Tisch, you’ll go and see the New York Philharmonic play. Promise me you’ll watch the principal cellist play this piece. And promise me that when you do, you’ll think of me. Imagine me playing up on that stage, fulfilling my dream.” I breathed deeply, content with that picture. “Because that would be enough for me now,” I explained. “Simply knowing that I’d at least get to live out that dream, even if it is only in your mind’s eye.”

“Poppy,” Rune said, painfully. “Please, baby…” My heart leapt as he called me ‘baby’. It sounded as perfect as the music to my ears.

Raising my head, I lifted his chin with my finger and insisted, “Promise me, Rune.”

He turned his gaze away from me. “Poppy, if you’re not going to be in New York with me, why the hell would I ever go?”

“Because of your photography. Because like this dream was mine, yours was to study photography at NYU.”

Concern cut through me when Rune’s jaw clenched. “Rune?” I questioned. After a long moment, he turned slowly back to face me. I searched his beautiful face. I slumped back in my seat at what I saw in his expression.

Refusal.

“Why don’t you take pictures anymore, Rune?” I asked. Rune looked away. “Please, don’t ignore me.”

Rune sighed in defeat. “Because without you, I didn’t see the world the same way anymore. Nothing was the same. I know we were only young, but without you, nothing made sense. I was angry. I was drowning. So I gave up my passion because the passion within me had died out.”

Out of anything he could have done or said, this saddened me most of all. Because the passion had been so strong within him. And his pictures, even at fifteen, were like nothing I’d ever seen.

I stared at Rune’s hard features, his eyes lost in a trance as he stared blankly at the empty stage. His wall was back up and the tension in his jaw was back. The sullen expression had returned.

Needing to leave him be, not to push him too far, I leaned my head back against his shoulder and smiled. I smiled, still hearing that piece drift into my ears.

“Thank you,” I whispered, as the lights on the stage faded.

Lifting my head, I waited for Rune to look at me. Eventually he did.

“Only you could have known that this—” I gestured to the auditorium—“would mean so much to me. Only my Rune.”

Rune pressed a soft kiss on my cheek.

“It was you at my recital the other night, wasn’t it?”

Rune sighed, then eventually nodded his head. “I was never going to miss you play, Poppymin. I never will.”

He got to his feet. He was silent as he held out his hand. He was silent as I gave him my hand and he led us to the car. He was silent as we journeyed home. I thought I must have hurt him somehow. I worried that I had done something wrong.

When we arrived home, Rune left the car and walked around the hood to open my door. I took his proffered hand as I jumped down. I kept tight hold as Rune walked me back to my house. I expected to go to the door. Instead, he led me to my window. I frowned when I saw the frustrated look on his face.

Needing to know what was wrong, I ran my hand down his face. But as my finger landed on his cheek, something in him seemed to snap. He backed me against the side of my house. His body pressed against mine and he cupped my face with his hands.

I was breathless—breathless at his closeness. Breathless at the intensity in his dark expression. His blue eyes searched every part of my face. “I wanted to do this right,” he said. “I wanted to take this slow. This date. Us. Tonight.” He shook his head, his forehead creasing as he fought whatever he was battling inside. “But I can’t. I won’t.”

I opened my mouth to answer, but his thumb drifted to graze my bottom lip, his attention on my mouth. “You’re my Poppy. Poppymin. You know me. Only you know me.” Taking my hand, he laid it over his heart. “You know me, even under this anger, you know me.” He sighed, edging so close that we shared the same air. “And I know you.” Rune paled. “And if we only have limited time, I’m not going to waste it. You’re mine. I’m yours. To hell with anything else.”

My heart fluttered like an arpeggio in my chest. “Rune,” was all I managed to say. I wanted to shout that yes, I was his. That he was mine. Nothing else mattered. But my voice failed me. I was too overcome with emotion.

“Say it, Poppymin,” he demanded. “Just say yes.”

Rune took a final step, trapping me, his body flush with my own, his heart beating in tandem with mine. I dragged in a breath. Rune’s lips brushed against mine, hovering, waiting, primed to possess them completely.

As I looked into Rune’s eyes, his black pupils all but eliminating the blue, I let go and whispered, “Yes.”

Warm lips suddenly crashed to mine, Rune’s familiar mouth taking them with single-minded determination. His warmth and minty taste drowned out my senses. His hard chest kept me pinned to the wall, trapped, as he owned me with his kiss. Rune was showing me to whom I belonged. He was giving me no other choice but to submit to him, to give myself back to him after withdrawing for too many years.

Rune’s hands threaded through my hair, keeping me in place. I moaned as his tongue pushed through to meet mine—soft, hot and desperate. Lifting my hands up his wide back, they landed in his hair. Rune growled into my mouth, kissing me deeper, taking me further and further from any fear or trepidation I harbored at his return. He kissed me until there was no part of me that didn’t know who it belonged to. He kissed me until my heart again fused with his—two halves of one whole.

My body began to weaken under his touch. Feeling me completely surrender to him, Rune’s kiss slowed to soft, gentle caresses. Then he broke away, our breathing heavy, an arc of tension above us. Rune’s swollen lips kissed my cheeks, my jaw and my neck. When he finally withdrew, his quick breaths blew against my face. His hands slackened their grip on me.

And he waited.

He waited, watching me with his intense gaze.

Then my lips parted, and I whispered, “Kiss three hundred and fifty-seven. Against the wall of my house … when Rune took possession of my heart.” Rune stilled, his hands tensed, and I finished with, “And my heart almost burst.”

Then it came. Rune’s pure smile. It was bright, it was wide and it was true.

My heart soared at the sight.

“Poppymin,” he whispered.

Gripping his shirt, I whispered back, “My Rune.”

Rune’s eyes closed as I spoke those words, a soft sigh falling from his mouth. His hands gradually loosened their grip on my hair and he took a reluctant step back. “I’d better go in,” I whispered.

“Ja,” he answered back. But he didn’t look away. Instead he pressed against me again, taking my mouth quickly and softly, before pulling back. Then he stepped back several spaces, putting a good distance between us.

I lifted my fingers to my lips and said, “If you keep kissing me like this, I’ll fill my jar in no time at all.”

Rune turned away to walk to his house, but stopped to glance over his shoulder. “That’s the idea, baby. One thousand kisses from me.”

Rune rushed back to his house, leaving me to watch him go, leaving me with a dizzying lightness flowing through me like a rapid. When my feet finally moved, I walked into my house and straight to my room.

I pulled out the jar from under my bed and wiped off the dust. Opening the jar, I took the pen from my nightstand and wrote down tonight’s kiss.

An hour later I was lying in bed, when I heard the window opening. Sitting up, I saw my curtain be pushed aside. My heart leapt into my mouth when Rune stepped in.

I smiled as he walked forward, shucking off his shirt and throwing it on the floor. My eyes widened when I drank in the sight of his bare chest. Then my heart almost exploded when he raked his hand through his hair, pushing it from his face.

Rune walked slowly to my bed, standing to wait by its side. Shuffling back, I lifted the cover and Rune climbed in, immediately wrapping his arms around my waist.

As my back nestled perfectly against his front, I sighed in contentment. I closed my eyes. Rune pressed a kiss just below my ear and whispered, “Sleep, baby. I got you.”

And he did.

He had me.

Just like I had him.