Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
Thom
Thom almost smiled when Luna chastised Poppy but couldn’t quite get the corners of his mouth to lift.
Out of the corner of his eye, he watched the bonfire blaze, its flames licking the cold night sky.
Pulling his eyes off Poppy—hard to do—he took in the large crowd, there were so many people here for this popular ceremony, most dressed in some sort of Halloween costume.
Conversation and laughter swirled around him, but he felt profoundly alone.
Strange because he’d spent the bulk of the last few years alone and he’d been perfectly content.
But that tiny fairy’s arrival in his life changed everything…
He and his house felt empty without her.
Felony was pining for her, and neither of them had eaten much since she left.
Fel also blamed him for Poppy’s absence, and was giving Thom the stink eye, turning his back on him and refusing to interact with him at all.
His dog was super pissed, and Thom knew he wouldn’t get over Poppy leaving anytime soon.
Neither would he.
Poppy looked like she was doing okay. Her friendship with Wren was as solid as it always was, and she often turned to speak to a resident or to smile at a tourist. She looked at home in H-Town, like this was her place, and these were her people. She belonged here more than he did.
He vaguely heard Luna saying something about someone, and telling the crowd to release their wishes, and the crowd started to move as people stepped up to the fire to throw their paper bats—God!
—into the fire. He crunched the paper in his fist—Hadley’d shoved it into his hand and taken five dollars from him before he could register what she was up to—and planted his feet, staying where he was.
He shook his head when Hayes invited him for a beer, and when he lost sight of Poppy, he turned his attention to the fire.
He looked down at his hand, thinking about what he’d write if he were forced to name his wish.
He simply wanted Poppy. She was already in his heart, but he wanted her in his life, in his bed, in his supposedly haunted house.
She was the future he wanted… He recalled her pensive face as she’d watched the crackling fire.
She didn’t know how strong she was, had no idea that she was so much more than she believed herself to be.
She’d survived the neglect of her family, her beloved grandparents’ deaths, what sounded like a pretty dreadful engagement to his very dreadful brother.
She’d even handled him, grumpy and unwelcoming and withdrawn.
She didn’t need him to rescue her anymore, didn’t need his input and advice. She had everything she needed within her. He was surplus to requirements.
It took a while for the penny to drop—or a bank load of them—to realize he’d chosen to believe Poppy was leaving him.
Her walking away hadn’t been her walking away from him, but her walking to herself.
He’d been so caught up in protecting himself, he’d automatically assumed Poppy was out to hurt him and mess with his head.
He’d made so much more of her leaving than it needed to be, all because he was still caught up in the past, still holding on to bitterness, pain and resentment.
He’d risked losing Poppy again because he’d been so busy protecting himself that he’d hadn’t seen her actions for what they were: a simple request for understanding.
His actions lately showed him that, for a relatively intelligent guy, he could be, when it came to matters of the heart, as dumb as a rock.
He’d always instinctively got Poppy; from the time she was little, he could read her eyes and moods, and sense what she needed.
But when his heart got involved, when he was at risk of getting hurt, he’d retreated and protected himself, scuttling back behind his emotional armor, keeping his head down.
And in the process, he hadn’t looked at or considered her.
As a result, he’d hurt her. That was unacceptable.
Nobody got to hurt her, ever.
Truth was, Poppy wasn’t the same, heart-bruised, runaway bride who’d arrived in H-Town in a grubby dress a month ago; she was stronger, more confident, settled and secure. And that security had nothing to do with him or being back at the inn or her being in H-Town. It was all about her.
A part of it was finding a way to earn money from her art, but it also felt like she’d grown taller lately. Emotionally, mentally…
She’d stopped watching to see how people reacted to her words and her opinions, and was more relaxed when she interacted with pretty much anybody, as if she’d realized that other people’s opinions had nothing to do with her.
Her leaving Solstice Deep showed him—now that he’d pulled his head out of his ass—that she didn’t need constant company, or assurances.
And that she was happy to be on her own. And content with her own company.
Poppy no longer needed other people’s validation.
She’d started to see her own value by herself.
He, on the other hand, adored her, loved her with an intensity he didn’t think he was capable of.
He hadn’t understood what life would be like without her until she left, and then it’d hit him—it was fucking intolerable.
Bland. Lacking light and color and laughter.
He thought he’d made progress, that he wasn’t the same grumpy, miserable bastard he’d been, but he’d been conning himself.
It’d taken Poppy dropping into his life and then leaving, for him to see that he’d been living life at half-power before she arrived and even less after she left.
In Hayes speak, Poppy was the battery that powered his life…
And God, he needed her. She softened his edges, filed down his spiky attitude. She turned Solstice Deep into a home, and her smile filled him with—he couldn’t believe he was thinking this—sunshine. She made him, and his world, better.
So, what the fuck had he been thinking when he’d pushed her away? Why did he believe that a life without Poppy was better than a life with her? Nothing about that made sense, and his only explanation was that he was a freaking coward, scared to love, scared to get hurt.
He’d risk anything to have Poppy back. He didn’t want to live his life without her.
Lifting his head, he looked around and realized he was the only person left at the fire, which was a quarter of the size it was before.
Turning, he took in his surroundings, his eyebrows lifting when he saw that the beach had all but emptied.
He looked at his watch; he’d been standing here for more than ninety minutes, and while his front was toasty warm, his back felt like he’d been resting against a glacier.
The wind skimmed through his hair and slapped his face with its icy fingers.
The temperature had dropped by quite a few degrees.
Jamming his hands into the pockets of his coat, he rolled his head, feeling the muscles in his neck protest. He was glad to be alone, for a moment or an hour.
The seismic revelation that he loved Poppy and would do anything to have her back in his life again needed quiet, reverence and a great deal of self-reflection.
He’d always loved Poppy more than she loved him, and that was okay. Vulnerability wasn’t a weakness, and the only thing worse than risking his heart was losing her for good…
Now he had to figure out how to get her back.
Ruby
Ruby, standing behind and to the side of Thom, sensed Millie McMaster’s presence before she’d even fully formed. When she turned, she took in her lovely, serene face, the calm smile that radiated so much love.
“You’re here,” she whispered, wishing she could take her hand, step in for a hug.
Millie lifted her hand, as if wanting to touch Ruby’s cheek. “I don’t have much time. They only gave me five minutes as a very special dispensation.”
Who did? Why only five minutes? Ruby had questions about the place beyond this and wanted to grill Millie about it. Millie shook her head. “That’s not important, Ruby.”
No, she guessed it wasn’t. Ruby wanted to know about her granddaughter Poppy. “I did as you asked, Millie.”
Millie nodded and looked at Thom, who was walking away from the bonfire, his head and shoulders drooping. “What exactly did you do, Ruby?” she asked, with not a shred of judgement in her voice.
“I got Poppy to leave the wedding, and I helped her leave Thom.”
Okay, that might be a slight exaggeration, but she’d cheered her on.
“Honey, I only asked you to persuade Poppy to run from the wedding; I didn’t ask you to become emotionally invested in their relationship.”
“I’m not emotionally invested!” Ruby scoffed, rocking on her heels. “That’s ridiculous!”
Millie shook her head. “Ruby, the way you watched over them, slammed doors when you were cross and knocked over beer bottles, the way you eavesdropped—not to mention making her pie bubble over—was all about you, not her.”
“I don’t understand,” Ruby said, shifting from foot to foot. Why were they discussing her when Millie only had five minutes?
“You were trying to understand yourself through Poppy.”
“That’s not tru—” Ruby started, testily, then stopped. Because maybe it was. Dammit.
“You wanted her to leave Thom, to be on her own, to choose herself, because you didn’t.” Ruby started to protest, but Millie held up her hand. “Honey, you never needed to fix her life; that wasn’t your job. You need to fix yours.”
Millie passed her hand through the dying flames of the bonfire. “Ruby, the reason you’ve never managed to let go, to move on, is because you’ve never forgiven yourself.”
“What should I forgive myself for?” Ruby demanded. She knew, but she needed Millie to confirm it.
“Why don’t you tell me?”
She started to curse, then pulled it back.
Millie was too much of a lady to swear in front of.
“I’m mad at myself for staying with Connor when I should’ve walked years before.
For trying to earn what he should’ve given to me freely or not at all.
For running after him, for begging him to love me.
I thought that if I just gave a little more, bent over backwards, he’d finally choose me and put me first.” Ruby’s laugh was sharp and held no amusement. “It just made him respect me less.”
Millie’s smile was full of love. “I knew Poppy would run here, just as I knew she would find Thom here. Most importantly of all, I knew she would find herself here. This place, Thom, were always hers. She just needed to realize that she’s worthy of him, more than worthy of her grandfather and me, too worthy of her family and Benji. ”
“Amen,” Ruby muttered.
“Besides, Madame Calliope told her she would become Mrs. Sheffield, and she’s never wrong.”
Ruby shook her head, grinned.
“But I also asked you to give her a shove, using the bathroom mirror because you needed my help, even more than she did, darling girl. A two for one, if you will, because you were both looking for something that could only be found within yourselves.” She tipped her head and smiled sweetly.
“I might be wrong, but I sense you might be ready to move on.”
Poppy looked at the ball of light drawing closer to Millie and knew that she was right. She could let go of her past and move forward to the next stage. Because while this was still an enjoyable existence, just, she guessed, different, maybe it was time?
Ruby knew that if she took Millie’s hand, she could cross over with her friend, holding her hand for support for whatever came next. Then she remembered Naomi and Lila and winced. “Do I have to go?” she asked.
“You don’t want to?”
She shook her head. “Not yet. I think I want to hang around here a while longer, be with my friends, have some fun.”
Her words, and her feelings toward leaving here felt …
well, right. She wasn’t avoiding the future, she wasn’t scared of what she might find on the other side.
It just felt like her time here, with Lila and Naomi, was unfinished.
This time she wasn’t acting impulsively or running, trying to get ahead of her thoughts and insecurities.
No, like Poppy, and after a lifetime of reacting, to men, to love, and to fear, she was very deliberately choosing.
“There’s no rule that says you have to move on,” Millie said, then smiled. “But keep your haunting hijinks tidy, Miss Ruby.”
Ruby nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
Millie nodded. “Maybe it’s a good thing that you are staying, Ruby, darling. You guys will need to stick together to help Hayes and Hadley.”
“Help them with what?” Ruby asked, but then the ball of light, not white, but all colors at once, rolled over her and swallowed Millie up.
“See you when I get there, dear Millie,” she said, feeling lighter and brighter than she had in decades. You could always, she decided, whether it was on this side of the veil or not, get by with a little help from your friends.