Chapter 36
36
Laird
“Dislocated shoulder, deep tissue abrasion of the rib area and abdomen. Hairline fracture on one rib, left side. Forty-three lacerations. Forehead. Left leg, both arms. Neck and chest.” The doctor looks up from the chart. “It sounds like a lot, but you look good overall, and you don’t have any signs of a concussion, which is surprising, considering the impact. How are you feeling?”
“Like I was in a car accident.”
The doctor’s attention returns to his e-pad screen while chuckling. “I can imagine. We’re sending you home with instructions for care. I read you’re going on tour soon.”
“Four weeks.”
“That aligns with the time I was going to tell you to rest, recover, and take it easy.”
“Will do.”
He turns to Poppy, whose mouth hangs wide open. I reach over to hold her hand, swaying in her direction. “What? ”
“Laird.”
“Poppy.”
She huffs, waving her hand in front of her. “You let me lie all over you, like full body weight on top of you.” I catch the doctor shaking his head. I’m sent a hard glare as she grits her teeth and lowers her voice between us and says, “And do other things to you.”
“Right.” I caress her cheek and take advantage of the connection by running my thumb over her bottom lip. “And that was amazing, but I’m still lost.”
She drops her head back and closes her eyes, making a bigger deal out of this than it is. “You have like triple the number of injuries that I do, Laird.”
I’m not sure what she’s asking. “Okay?”
She releases my hand to cross her arms over her chest. “You really need to learn to let other people take care of you.”
The doctor nods. “She’s got a point.”
“Pfft.” Waving them both off, I say, “I’m fine.” Should I tell them I’m planning a surfing trip to La Jolla? Probably best if I don’t. “Really, I am. All is good. Great, in fact.”
She rolls her eyes, but she can’t hide that smile from me. “Doth protest too much.”
The doctor says, “Poppy Stanfield. Hm. . . . Uh-huh . Amnesia?” Looking up, he studies her as if you can see it.
“I did before the wreck.”
He says, “It was bad. Fifteen cars.” He looks us over, almost as if he’s in disbelief we’re here. “If you’d been going any faster—”
“Yeah,” I cut in because neither Poppy nor I need the reminders of how we walked away with minimal injuries when it could have been the opposite.
Doesn’t matter that a semi-truck swerved into two cars or that it caused a chain reaction three cars past us. I will still never forgive myself for not reacting faster.
Poppy rests her hand on my leg and says, “Laird had just helped me manage a panic attack when it happened. A lot was going on.”
The doctor places the e-pad at his side and rocks back on his heels. “The ER was full, but fortunately, there were no casualties. Well, other than a few nurses who Mr. Faris was kind enough to sign autographs for.” His eyes pivot to me. “We see a lot of celebrities due to our location, but you were quite the hit last night.”
“Pun intended?” Not sure I trust a doctor who puns.
He chuckles. “Always.” Heading for the door, he says to Poppy, “You already have your care instructions. Don’t hesitate to call me if you need anything.”
As soon as we’re alone, I ask, “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” she says, standing from the couch. “They did an MRI due to the past accident and my memories returning.” Grabbing her bag, she moves to the door. “I was given the all clear. I wasn’t the last time I had one, so this is good news. Progress, babe.”
“Your body and your brain have been through a lot. You don’t need to conquer the world in one day.”
Swinging the door open, she turns back to me with the biggest grin splitting her cheeks. “I’ve lost too much time. Let’s go make up for it.”
I have a feeling I’m not going to be able to convince her otherwise, so I might as well go along for the journey. I get up and grab the door above her head to hold it open. “So what’s first?”
I almost run into the back of her when she stops suddenly in the middle of the hallway. Glancing back at me, she says, “Your mom is here for you. ”
“No, I’ve already seen her. She’s here for you.”
The magnitude hits her expression quick, and tears flood her eyes. “For me? Really?”
“Yes. For you.” I pluck the side of her dress and add, “She wanted to stay to make sure you were okay.” While tears roll down her cheeks, she turns back to my mom, and then walks into her open arms and cries on her shoulder.
We all just want to know we’re loved. If her family won’t do it, mine will step up to do the job because I already know I’m going to marry her one day.
Once my mom is satisfied with the health update and has left, and Poppy is beaming with happiness, she presses her hands to my chest. I can tell by the look in her eyes, she is definitely up to no good. She asks, “You up for an adventure, lover?”
I slide my hands around her waist and pull her to me. I will never tire of adventures with her. “With you? Always.”
Five weeks later . . .
“No to the hat. It’s summer. You don’t need a wool beanie on.”
The huff is heard across the room. “But it’s my Faris Wheel official tour hat?”
“I know.” I take another look up from my phone. As cute as she is in it, it’s firsthand embarrassing for me. “I remember giving it to you, but it was October in Austin, not June.”
“Yes, but we’re in California, not Texas.”
I kick my feet onto the coffee table, figuring we’ll be here all day at this rate. “Southern California. My vote is no.” As soon as I say it, I know I’m losing this battle.
“So we’re voting? My vote is yes then.” She walks as proud as a peacock to the counter to grab her bag. “It also covers the scars on my forehead.”
I won’t lie to protect her. It’s the one thing she asked me not to do anymore. Instead, I tell her the truth from the start, “The scars are part of who you are. You look beautiful.”
“Aw, babe. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Veering back on the course she’s determined to travel, she picks up where she left off. “Anyway, it makes as much sense wearing this as it does our choice in tattoos.”
I slide my hand under my shirt and rub over it. It’s not raised. I just like it there. Which is why I take offense. “What does that mean?”
“I know our tattoo doesn’t symbolize the brokenhearted, so remind me why we chose the star and yellow rose design again?”
Pushing off the couch, I reply, “We were drunk in Texas, baby. I chose it for the Lone Star State, and you chose it for the state flower.” I kiss her and then straighten that ugly-ass hat on my beautiful girlfriend.
“I’m positive I didn’t know that was the state flower. I’m a New Yorker, after all.”
“Seemed like a good idea at the time.” I open the door for her.
Despite the origins of the design, I see her tap the art twice on the outside of her leggings. She once said it was her good luck charm because it brought us back together against the odds.
I just think it’s sexy as fuck on her. I grab the card I woke up early to fill out. It took me longer than I thought it would to say the things I thought needed to be in there. I think I covered everything. “Ready?”
“Dreading it.”
Me too.
“This is sad.”
I grin and dip down to kiss her neck once more. “Saddest day ever.” It doesn’t rank up there in the scheme of the hell we’ve been through, but I still hate leaving her. And knowing I won’t see her for days isn’t helping me with my mood.
“I’ll see you in Phoenix, though.”
Holding her face in my hands, I stare at the flecks of colors in her eyes. The greens that always held her innocence, the browns that blurred the lines. The gold that gave me hope that we would survive anything thrown our way. She’s an angel brought to save me, and I will never take that for granted. “Ninety-four hours.”
“You’re counting the hours?”
“Every one of them until you’re back in my arms.”
Dropping her head to my shoulder, she holds me, making me realize time and distance, memories, and the different paths we took never mattered. We would always find our way back together. When she pulls back, she’s gripping my shirt and lifts on the toe of her shoes to look into my eyes. “If this meeting with the agent ends before noon, I’m catching an earlier flight.”
“I’ll fly you private if it gets you to me faster.”
I kiss her one last time and then slip the card from my back pocket. Handing it to her, I say, “I wanted you to always know how I feel about you.”
“I do, Laird.” Taking my hand, she unfurls my fingers and kisses my palm. Pressing it to her cheek, she whispers, “I don’t need a card to remind me.”
“Just in case.” I still have some work to do on my own fears. “You never know where life takes you.”
“Apparently, it takes me to you every time.” She winks and, with a smile that calms my raging seas, I’m once again a believer in destiny.
“Not sure this was a good idea.” I sit up on my board with my legs dangling in the water. Paddling out set my muscles on fire, especially in my shoulder. Probably not wise since I’m going to be performing for the next two months. I could also be out of shape from spending the past five weeks recovering. Though I’m certain what Poppy and I consider “recovering” was not a part of doctor’s orders.
Spending time with my dad is worth it.
He runs his hand over his head to shake the water out of his hair and looks at me. “You’re out here, so you might as well catch a wave back to shore.”
The setting sun puts on a show for us. I’ve always found peace in myself and in my place in the universe when in the water. Now I find it in Poppy. I grin, thinking no pressure.
I stare ahead as the ocean rolls in, but the waves peter out before reaching us. “It’s going to be dark before we make it back in.” It’s never good to be in these waters come evening and night.
“Patience.”
The wetsuit compresses my shoulder muscles, the water cooling it down. The pain is gone as I’m starting to ease into old times, being Zen with the ocean helping to clear the clutter from my mind.
A few minutes pass, and my dad glances over. “What do you think?”
“Patience,” I joke.
It makes him laugh. “You’re rubbing off on me.”
“I could say the same.” With the sunset lit on our faces, I say, “I’m going to marry her, Dad.”
He nods, anticipating the perfect wave still coming. “I had a feeling.”
I don’t want to beg for approval or advice, but I still need it. “What do you think?”
With his arms loose at his sides, he looks at me. “I think Poppy would be a great match for you, a good partner, and you could be happy.”
“ Could be happy?”
“You have to put in the work, Son. The honeymoon stage is great, but I wouldn’t trade it for what I have with your mother now for anything.” He paddles with his hands to maintain position but adds, “You’re in that stage of life when everything is bigger and more emotional. The fights, making up afterward, decisions on everything from where you’re going to live, where to raise your kids if you choose to go that route, to paying bills, and career highs and dips and then retirement.”
“I love her. Never a doubt. I’d elope if she wanted.”
Chuckling, he splashes me. “Nikki and Tulsa eloped and then kept it a secret for weeks or could have been longer. Give your mother one wedding, kid.”
“We’ll take it under consideration.” I laugh, seeing the waves pick back up. He’s right. Patience is key.
“There’s something to be said about finding peace within the person you choose to be with every day. Finding happiness where you’re planted and watching it grow.”
I knew I wanted to marry her, which is why I mentioned it to my dad, but hearing his words only reaffirms my commitment to being with her.
“If you’re asking my thoughts on if you should or if you’re ready, you’re ready.” He says, “Start paddling. You get dibs on the first wave.”
Turning around, I look back over my shoulder to see the wave coming. I start paddling as hard as I can, reminding myself how much the wave reflects life. All I have to do is ride it.