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.