Chapter 51 Poppy
“ I like him,” my mom whispers to me over her steaming mug of eggnog.
“You’ve told me before. And I’m glad.” I smile back at her as the lights from my parents’ Christmas tree catch my eye. “Mom, I thought we agreed that specific ornament would not be put out anymore.”
My mom looks confused for a second before realizing what I’m referring to. “Oh my God, I forgot, sweetie. Let me grab it.” It’s too late though, Owen heard both of our loud surprised exclamations and walks mischievously over to the tree.
“I am guessing you’re referring to this one?” He points to the ornament in question. “I noticed it earlier and wanted to say something but kept it to myself.” He glances back at it once more and I can’t help but run over and snatch it from under his handsome gaze.
“That’s private,” I stammer before laughing and looking down at it myself. Inside a small frame, a two year old version of me stands next to a tree in this very same room, tinsel decorating my hair and in my very exposed diaper. Apparently I thought I’d look pretty that way. I still love tinsel.
“A private ornament. Well, I shall respect your wishes.” He turns the ornament upside down in my palm, closing my hand over it as he leans to brush his lips against my cheek in a soft kiss before moving to the couch to sit by his parents. “But, know that I love it.”
“So, Walter, how long have you lived here?” His father chimes in from the couch, sipping on his own steaming mug of eggnog.
“Oh, we’ve been in this house since before Poppy was born. We loved the location, being a little ways out of town, but still close enough to drive in when we need something. I don’t know how you can do it in New York. All those people and buildings.” My dad shakes his head. He’s always been a small town guy and has never liked too much busyness or large crowds.
“There’s something quite lovely about it actually. Especially during the holidays. Who knows, maybe next year we could have you out to our place for Christmas.” Owen’s mom has been so open and welcoming to me and my family. It’s been great seeing him with them. I can definitely see where he gets his handsome looks and kind heart from.
“That would be wonderful.” My mom perks up. I’m sure she’s loving the idea of us still being together this time next year and planning that far ahead. She has always been supportive, but I know she wants to make sure I’m happy and supported by someone too. “I’d love to see your shop.”
“It’s amazing everything they’ve done with the place over the years. It’s become a real staple in the neighborhood.” Owen glows talking about his family’s flower shop. The pride and joy he has for what they’ve accomplished is clearly evident.
“That’s amazing. I’d love to hear more about how you started it.”
“Michelle, there will be lots of time for that later. Let’s open presents.” My dad has always loved presents and giving gifts to people has become one of his specialties. Moving towards the tree, he grabs one for Owen’s parents. A gift basket with a bunch of things from Honey Cove—coffee from Bobbi’s, honey from the farm up the road, a book about the history of the town, toffee from the sweetshop on the boardwalk, among other things.
They seem to like it from their excited squeals and “thank yous.” Before I know it, only the gifts between Owen and I are left. I bring my large package over to him and nervously hand it to him. I hadn’t thought much about it until this moment, but I suddenly feel worried he won’t like it and wish I had given it to him privately earlier.
His mouth drops open as he rips the paper off. “Poppy, I love it,” he says, his voice soft and quiet.
“What is it?” his mom asks.
“It’s a photo I took one day when we were out together. He had said he liked it, so I had it framed.”
My mom coughs a little into her mug, choking on her eggnog. “You gave him one of your art pieces?”
“Well, yeah. To go next to all his photos of New York.”
“I don’t think you’ve ever done that before. Even the photos we have, we had to ask you for the digital file and that took months of negotiation.”
It’s too quiet in the room. And I’m not sure what to say. I didn’t even think anything of giving him the photo.
“Well, I love it.” Owen turns and looks at me with something hidden in his warm look.
“Would you all be alright if I stole Poppy for a quick walk? It’s so nice out now.”
Everyone echoes their agreement and as we get our boots, coats, and other winter gear on, we hear the sounds of a rousing game of Rummikub starting from the dining table, a family favorite.
“It’s really nice that they get along so well,” I whisper to him. He wraps his arm around me and smiles back.
“It is. Are you all bundled up?” He reaches down to tug my fur lined hood tightly around my face. “I want to make sure you’re warm.”
I can’t resist the cheesy response, “Oh, I’ll be plenty warm with you there.” We both laugh as we head out into the snowy wonderland.