by Tillie Cole
My laughter stopped. I knew my mama and daddy were concerned about Rune’s attitude, but I hadn’t known how badly they judged him.
“Is he coming to our door?” Savannah asked.
I shook my head, although I was unsure what he would do.
Suddenly the doorbell rang.
We all looked at one another, wide-eyed. I frowned. “This can’t be Rune,” I exclaimed in surprise. He always came to my window. He was never formal; it just wasn’t us. Certainly it wasn’t him.
Savannah read the clock on my nightstand. “It’s six o’clock. Ain’t that the time he was coming?”
With one final look in the mirror, I grabbed my jacket and rushed through my bedroom door, my sisters hard on my heels. As I rounded the hallway, I saw my daddy open the door, his face dropping when he saw whoever was there.
I skidded to a halt.
Savannah and Ida stopped beside me. Ida grabbed my hand when we heard a familiar voice say, “Mr. Litchfield.”
At the sound of his voice, my heart stuttered mid-beat. I watched as my daddy drew back his head in confusion. “Rune?” he asked. “What are you doing here?”
My daddy was being his usual polite self, but I could hear a wariness in his tone. I could hear a slight edge of worry, maybe even a deeper concern.
“I’m here for Poppy,” Rune told my daddy. My daddy’s hand tightened on the doorknob.
“For Poppy?” he clarified. I peeked around the wall, hoping to catch a glimpse of Rune. Ida squeezed my arm.
I looked at my sister. “OMG!” she mouthed dramatically.
I shook my head while silently laughing at her. She refocused her attention on my daddy, but I stared at her excited face for a fraction longer. It was moments like this, the carefree moments where we were just three sisters gossiping about dates, that struck me the hardest. Feeling a pair of eyes watching me, I turned my head toward Savannah.
Without words, she told me she understood.
Savannah’s hand pressed on my shoulder, as I heard Rune explain, “I’m taking her out, sir.” He paused. “On a date.”
My daddy’s face blanched, and I pushed forward. As I moved toward the door to rescue Rune, Ida whispered in my ear, “Poppy, you’re my new hero. Look at Daddy’s face!”
I rolled my eyes and laughed. Savannah grabbed Ida and pulled her back, out of sight. But they’d still be watching. They wouldn’t miss this for the world.
A flush of nerves swept through me as I approached the door. I saw my daddy begin to shake his head. Then his gaze fixed on me.
His confused eyes surveyed my dress, the bow in my hair and the make-up on my face. He turned a whiter shade of pale.
“Poppy?” my daddy asked. I lifted my head high.
“Hey, Daddy,” I replied. The door still blocked Rune, but I could see his blurred dark figure through the stained-glass panel. I could smell his fresh scent drifting in on the cool breeze that filtered through the house.
My heart raced in anticipation.
Daddy pointed at Rune. “Rune here seems to think he’s taking you out.” He said it as though it couldn’t possibly be true, but I heard the doubt in his voice.
“Yes,” I confirmed.
I heard the hushed whispers of my sisters coming from behind us. I saw my mama watching from the shadow of the living room.
“Poppy—” My daddy went to speak, but I stepped forward, cutting him off.
“It’s okay,” I assured him. “I’ll be fine.” It seemed like my daddy couldn’t move. I used this awkward moment to walk around the door and greet Rune.
I felt my lungs seize and my heart stop dead.
Rune was dressed all in black: t-shirt, jeans, suede boots, and leather biker jacket. His long hair was down. I savored the moment when he lifted his hand and pushed it through his hair. He was leaning against the doorway, an air of arrogance radiating from his casual stance.
When his eyes, bright under frowning dark-blond brows, fell on me, I saw light flare in his gaze. His eyes slowly tracked over my body, over my long-sleeved yellow dress, down my legs, and back up to the white bow holding up one side of my hair. His nostrils flaring and his pupils enlarging were the only evidence that he liked what he saw.
Blushing under his heavy stare, I dragged in a breath. The air was thick and full. The tension between us was palpable. I realized in that moment that it was possible to miss someone fiercely even though mere hours had passed since you’d last been together.
The clearing of my daddy’s throat hurled me back to reality. I glanced back. Putting a reassuring hand on his arm, I said, “I’ll be back later Daddy, okay?”
Not waiting for his response, I ducked under his arm that was leaning on the door, and out onto the porch. Rune slowly pushed his body away from the doorframe and turned to follow me. When we reached the end of the driveway I turned to him.
His intense gaze was already on me, his jaw clenching as I waited for him to speak. Peering over his shoulder, I saw my daddy watching us leave, that worried expression still marring his face.
Rune looked back, but didn’t react. He didn’t say a single word. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a set of keys. He flicked his chin toward his mamma’s Range Rover. “I got the car,” was all he said, as he walked forward.
I followed him, heart thudding as I made my way to the car. I focused on the ground to steady my nerves. When I looked up, Rune had opened the passenger door for me. Suddenly, all of my nerves slipped away.
There he stood, like a dark angel, watching me, waiting for me to climb inside. Smiling at him as I passed, I jumped in the car, blushing with happiness as he gently closed the door and got in the driver’s side.
Rune started the engine without a word, his attention fixed on my house through the windscreen. There was my daddy, still as a rock, watching us leave.
Rune’s jaw clenched once more.
“He’s just protective, is all,” I explained, my voice breaching the silence. Rune cast me a sideways look. With a dark glare at my daddy, Rune pulled out of the street, a thick silence gradually intensifying the farther we drove.
Rune’s hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, knuckles white. I could feel the anger rolling off him in waves. It made me feel so sad. Never before had I seen anyone harbor so much rage.
I couldn’t imagine living like this every day. Couldn’t imagine feeling that barbed coil forever in my stomach, that aching of the heart.
Inhaling, I turned to Rune and tentatively asked, “Are you okay?”
Rune exhaled harshly through his nose. He nodded his head once, then pushed back his hair. My eyes fell to his biker jacket and I smiled.
Rune arched his right brow. “What?” he asked, the sound of his deep voice rumbling through my chest.
“Just you,” I replied evasively.
Rune darted his gaze to the road, then back to me. When he repeated it several more times, I could tell it was because he was desperate to know what I was thinking.
Reaching out, I let my hand drift over the distressed leather on the arm of his jacket. Rune’s muscles bunched under my palm.
“I can see why all the girls in town have a crush on you.” I said. “Ida was telling me all about it tonight. How all of them would be jealous that I was on a date with you.”
Rune’s eyebrows drew down. I laughed, truly laughed, at the lines on his forehead. He rubbed his lips together as I giggled louder, but I could see the sparkle in his eyes. I could see him disguising his amusement.
Sighing lightly, I wiped my eyes. I noticed that Rune’s hands had slackened some on the wheel. His jaw wasn’t so tense and his eyes weren’t so narrowed.
Taking the opportunity while I could, I explained, “Since I got sick, Daddy got more protective. He doesn’t hate you, Rune. He just doesn’t know this new you. He didn’t even know we’d been speaking again.”
Rune sat still, saying nothing.
This time I didn’t try to talk. It was clear that Rune had slip
ped back into a mood. But nowadays, I wasn’t sure how to bring him out of it. If I even could. I turned to watch the world outside as we drove. I had no idea where we were going, the excitement making it impossible to sit still.
Suddenly hating the quiet in the car, I leaned over to the radio and switched it on. I flicked the dial to my favorite channel; the harmonies of my favorite girl band filled the car.
“I love this song,” I said happily, sitting back in my seat as the slow piano melody began filling every corner of the car. I listened to the opening bars, singing along quietly to the stripped-back acoustic version of the song. My favorite version.
I closed my eyes, letting the heartbreaking lyrics flow into my mind and out through my lips. I smiled when the string section struck up in the background, deepening the emotion with its dulcet sounds.
This was why I loved music.
Only music had the ability to steal my breath, and give life to the song’s story so flawlessly. So profoundly. I opened my eyes and found Rune’s face had lost all anger. His blue eyes were watching me, as much as they could. His hands were tighter on the wheel, but there was something else in his expression.
My mouth grew dry as he glanced at me again, his face unreadable. “It’s about a girl who desperately loves a boy, with her whole heart. They keep their love a secret, but she doesn’t want it to be that way. She wants the world to know that he’s hers and she’s his.”
Then, to my utter surprise, Rune rasped, “Keep singing.”
I saw it on his face; I saw his need to hear me.
So I did.
I wasn’t a strong singer. So I sang it soft, I sang it true. I sang the lyrics, embracing every word. As I sang the song about love requited, I sang them with heart. These lyrics, these passionate pleas, I had lived.
Still lived.
They were Rune and me. Our separation. My foolish plan: to keep him out of my life, to save him from pain, unexpectedly wounding both of us in the process. Loving him from here in America, him loving me from Oslo, in return, in secret.
When the last lyric faded, I opened my eyes, my chest aching from the rawness of the emotions. Another song began to play, one I didn’t know. I could feel Rune’s watchful gaze boring into me, yet I couldn’t lift my head.
Something was making it impossible.
I let my head roll against the headrest, and I stared out the window. “I love music,” I said, almost to myself.
“I know you do,” Rune answered. His voice was firm, strong and clear. But in that tone, I caught a hint of tenderness. Of something gentle. Caring. I rolled my head to face him. I didn’t say anything as our eyes met. I simply smiled. It was small and timid, but Rune let out a slow breath as I did.
We made a left and another left, taking us down a dark country road. My eyes never left Rune. I thought about how truly beautiful he was. I let myself imagine how he would look in ten years’ time. He’d be broader, I was sure. I wondered if his hair would still be long. I wondered what he’d be doing with his life.
I prayed that it would be something to do with photography.
Photography brought the same soul-enhancing peace to him as my cello did to me. Since he’d returned, though, I hadn’t seen his camera once. He said it himself, he didn’t take photos anymore.
That made me sadder than anything.
Then, I did the one thing I had told myself long ago I would never allow—I imagined what we would look like in ten years’ time, together. Married, living in an apartment in Soho, New York. I would be cooking in our cramped kitchen. I’d be dancing to music playing from the radio in the background. And Rune would be sitting at the counter watching me, taking photos as he documented our lives. And he’d reach out from behind his lens to run his finger down my cheek. I’d swat his hand away playfully and I’d laugh. That would be when he’d click the button on the camera. That would be the shot I’d see later that night waiting for me on my pillow.
His perfectly captured moment in time.
His perfect second. Love in still life.
A tear fell from my eyes as I held onto that image. The image that could never be us. I allowed myself a moment of feeling the pain, before I hid it deep. Then I let myself feel happy that he would get the opportunity to fulfil his passion and become a photographer. I’d be watching on from my new home in heaven, smiling with him.
As Rune concentrated on the road, I let myself whisper, “I’ve missed you … I’ve missed you so, so much.”
Rune froze, every part of his body becoming still. Then he hit the turn signal and pulled over onto the edge of the road. I sat up, wondering what was happening. The engine purred beneath us, but Rune’s hands slipped from the wheel.
His eyes were downcast, hands lying on his lap. He momentarily gripped his jeans, then he turned his head to face me. His expression was haunted.
Torn.
But it softened when he fixed his gaze on me, and said in a rough whisper, “I’ve missed you too. So damn much, Poppymin.”
My heart lurched forward, taking my pulse along with it. They both raced, they both made my head dizzy as I drank in the honesty in his graveled voice. The beautiful look on his face.
Not knowing what else to say, I laid my hand on the center console. My palm was facing up, fingers open. After several silent seconds, Rune slowly placed his hand in mine and we linked our fingers tightly together. Shivers ghosted through my body at the feel of his large hand holding mine.
Yesterday confused us both, neither one knowing what to do, where to go, how to find our way back to us. This date was our start. These joined hands, a reminder. A reminder that we were Poppy and Rune. Somewhere under all the hurt and pain, under all the new layers we’d acquired, we were still here.
In love.
Two halves of one heart.
And I didn’t care what anyone said about it. My time was precious but, I realized, not as precious to me as Rune. Without breaking our hands, Rune put the car into drive and we pulled back out onto the road. After a moment, I could see where we were going.
The creek.
I smiled wide as we pulled into the old restaurant, its deck adorned with strings of blue lights, large heaters warming the outdoor tables. The car drew to a halt and I turned to Rune. “You brought me to the creek for our date? To Tony’s Shack?”
My mamaw would bring Rune and me here when we were kids. On a Sunday night. Just like tonight. She lived for their crawfish. She happily traveled all this way to get them.
Rune nodded. I tried to pull my hand away, and he frowned. “Rune,” I teased, “we have to get out of the car at some point. To do that, we have to break hands.”
Rune reluctantly let go, his eyebrows pulling down as he did. I grabbed my coat, and climbed out of the car. As soon as I shut the door, Rune was by my side. Reaching down, not seeking permission, he took hold of my hand again.
By his grip, I was convinced he’d never let go.
A gust of wind blew in from the water as we walked toward the entrance. Rune stopped. Silently, he took my coat from my hand and unclasped our linked fingers. Shaking the coat, he held it out for me to put on.
I went to protest, but a dark look passed over Rune’s face and I sighed. Turning around, I pushed my arms into my parka, turning back when Rune’s arm guided me before him. Focusing intently on the task, he zipped up my coat until the cold night air was held at bay.
I waited for Rune’s hands to drop from my collar, but instead, they lingered. His minty breath drifted over my cheeks. He glanced up momentarily, catching my eyes. My skin bumped at the flash of shyness those eyes held. Then, latching his gaze on mine, he inched closer and said softly, “Did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight?”
My toes curled in my boots at the thickness of his accent. Rune may have looked calm and aloof, but I knew him. When his accent was thicker, so were his nerves.
I shook my head. “No,” I whispered. Rune glanced away.
When he looked back, his hands
had tightened on my collar, drawing me closer. Hovering his face an inch before mine, he said, “Well you do. Real damn beautiful.”
My heart leaped, it soared. In response, I could only smile. But that seemed enough for Rune. In fact, it seemed to floor him.
Leaning in just that little bit more, Rune’s lips brushed past my ear. “Stay warm, Poppymin. I couldn’t bear for you to get sicker.”
His act of putting on my coat suddenly made sense. He was protecting me. Keeping me safe.
“Okay,” I whispered back. “For you.” He inhaled a quick breath, his eyes closing just a fraction too long for it to be a blink.
He stepped back and took my hand in his. Without speaking, he led me into Tony’s Shack and requested a table for two. The hostess led us around back to the patio overlooking the creek. I hadn’t been here in years, but it hadn’t changed one bit. The water was quiet and still, a piece of heaven hidden away amongst the trees.
The hostess stopped at a table at the back of the busy patio. I smiled, about to take my seat, when Rune said, “No.” My eyes flew to Rune, as did the hostess’s. He pointed to the furthest table on the deck, one right on the edge of the water. “That one,” he demanded, curtly.
The young hostess nodded. “Certainly,” she replied, slightly flustered. She led us across the patio to the table.
Rune took the lead, his hand still clutching mine. As we threaded our way through the tables, I noticed girls staring at him. Rather than be upset by their attention, I followed their gazes, trying to see him with fresh eyes. I found that difficult. He was so ingrained in my every memory, so carved into the fabric of who I was, that it made it almost impossible. But I tried and tried, until I saw what they must have seen.
Mysterious and brooding.
My very own bad boy.
The hostess left the menus on the wooden table and turned to Rune. “Is this okay, sir?” Rune nodded, a scowl still etched on his face.