Chapter 64 Owen
F ebruary
Since I have our pizza and apps order piled in my hands, I ring Poppy’s doorbell instead of letting myself in. Without hearing her words, I can tell she’s giving Noah some sort of instruction. He simply replies to her with an exasperated “fine” just before he opens the door.
“Hey Noah,” I say, peering into the house to try to see what the commotion was. Things have been a little strained between Poppy and me. We’ve started talking a couple of times, but we keep getting interrupted or one of us changes the subject.
I know we have to sit down and really talk about everything, but each time we get close, all I can think about is her leaving and I clam up. She’s shared the details Sally mentioned and I told her to send her the photos she took that day on the beach when the sun was setting.
Then I changed the subject and asked her about the upcoming senior art show. I’m a complete coward who keeps putting off this conversation because once it happens, it’ll be official that the right thing for her will be to take this job. We just need to sit down and talk .
“That already smells amazing,” he says, taking the stack from me so I can remove my winter gear. “Poppy is in the kitchen where I’ve been banned from.”
“What happened?”
“She won’t let me clean up the mess I made when I dropped the half-full bottle of wine.” He takes the food to the dining room table and I see the Christmas gift I got her hanging on the wall: a framed photo she took that day on the beach. “She has also banned you from the space so you don’t step on any glass.”
“You’re both okay though, right?” My sock slips off my foot while I step out of my taller boots. We just got another wave of snow earlier today, so I pulled out my “serious” winter boots that I wear when I shovel Poppy’s driveway and sidewalk.
“Completely fine,” he says, waving away my concerns as I walk to the kitchen.
“Don’t come in,” she yelps. “I’m doing the final sweep to get the remaining glass.”
She looks adorably frazzled and I want to just step into the kitchen to work side by side with her. I know that she has this covered and my joining would only make her worry.
“What can I do?” I ask.
“Why don’t you and Noah start setting up whatever game he brought? I’ll be done in a minute and will bring in the dishes for our snack.”
“There isn’t really much set up.”
“What do we need to do before playing?” I ask.
“Nothing, really.” He shrugs, walking to a black bag by the front door that I hadn’t noticed until now.
“What kind of game—” I begin before seeing what Noah brought. “That’s not a game.”
“A puzzle is a form of entertainment and is therefore a game.” He turns and looks toward the kitchen, calling out, “Aren’t I right, Poppy?”
“Right about what?” She comes into the dining room with plates, silverware, and napkins, setting them down on the table.
“Noah brought a puzzle,” I explain.
“But it’s game night,” she says with a slight frown.
“A puzzle is a game,” he says, still sounding sure.
“There aren’t turns to take,” she argues.
“And there’s no strategy,” I add.
“There’s plenty of strategy. You could sort out all of the edge pieces first, or you could sort by color.” He’s definitely grasping at straws to make his case.
“It’s still not a game,” she says laughing and putting her arms around my waist as I engulf her in a hug. “But we can do the puzzle, right babe?”
“Of course.” My lips brush over hers twice, those familiar sparks always present when we kiss. “Can I get you two something to drink?”
“I’m hosting, I should be asking you that.”
I shrug. “You sit down and get the first pick from the apps. After all, you cleaned up all the glass.”
“There’s another bottle of red in the kitchen if you wanted to open that.”
“That sounds great,” Noah says.
“Consider it done.” I kiss Poppy once more and go to the next room. She keeps her unopened wine bottles in the highest cupboard and I pick out one that she’s been enjoying lately. Moving around her kitchen with ease, I uncork the bottle and pour three glasses.
It’s hard to ignore the push and pull that seems to be my constant companion lately. The pull to be with her. To allow myself to continue dreaming of what life might be like here together.
The push to guard myself for her possible move. A move she hasn’t asked me to join her on. But if she did, would I want to live in Toronto? I could visit regularly, but long-distance would be hard. My heart aches at just the thought of not being able to hold her every day.
Noah’s laughter brings me back to this moment. Gathering the glasses, I join them again. We pass the pizza boxes around so everyone can fill their plate. If I didn’t move with her, I’d be missing out on simple dinners and game nights with her new coworkers and friends in Toronto.
God, I need to refocus.
“How’s the senior art show prep coming along?” I ask as Poppy takes a big bite of pizza.
“It’s looking fantastic,” Noah says. “We don’t move the pieces to the room until the Friday before the show, so the students have other projects to discuss.”
She nods along. “They have worked so hard and it shows. I can’t believe the level of talent this graduating class has.”
“Agreed. Owen, can you pass me the wings?” I hand the box to him and it’s not long until we shift all of the to-go containers to the end of the table.
Noah opens the puzzle box and dumps the pieces out of the bag smiling like a kid in a candy store. “Who is taking the edges with me?”
I raise my hand tentatively as Poppy says, “I’m better at sorting the pieces by color and putting the puzzle together that way.”
“Race to see who’s done first?” he asks, rubbing his hands together gleefully.
“Do you mean, me, one person, tackling everything but the edge competing against the two of you who are only putting together the border?” she deadpans.
“Fair point,” he says, frowning.
I look at the cover of the box. “How about we do the border and you do the fishing boat?”
Competition sparkles in her eyes. “You’re on.”