A Thousand Boy Kisses(69)

I lifted my hand, keeping it a centimeter away from the picture, and traced my finger over her beaming face, over her soft lips and rosy cheeks. And I felt it. Felt the overwhelming passion for this craft burst back to life inside me. This picture. This one picture cemented what I had secretly known all along.

I was meant to do this with my life.

It made sense that this picture brought this message home—it was of the girl that was my home. A knock sounded at the door, and without taking my gaze from the picture, I answered, “Ja?”

The door opened slowly. I felt who it was before I looked. My pappa entered the darkroom, by only a few steps. I looked at him, but I had to turn away again at the expression on his face, as he drank in all the pictures hanging from the pegs across the room.

I didn’t want to confront what that feeling in my stomach meant. Not yet.

Minutes passed by in silence, before my pappa said softly, “She’s absolutely beautiful, son.” My chest constricted when I saw his eyes on the photo that I was still standing before.

I didn’t respond. My pappa stood awkwardly in the doorway, saying nothing else. Finally, he moved to leave. As he went to shut the door, I forced myself to say a sharp, “Thank you … for the camera.”

In my peripheral vision, I saw my pappa pause. I heard a slow, ragged intake of breath, then he replied, “You have nothing to thank me for, son. Nothing at all.”

With that he left me in my darkroom.

I stayed longer than I intended, replaying my pappa’s response in my mind.

Clutching two photographs in my hands, I climbed the steps of the basement and headed for my room. As I passed the open door of Alton’s bedroom, I saw him sitting on his bed, watching TV.

He hadn’t seen me, standing there in his doorway, and I carried on to my room. But as I heard him laugh at whatever he was watching, my feet stuck to the floor, and I made myself turn back.

As I entered his room, Alton turned to me, and in a move that made me feel a crack in my chest, the biggest smile spread on his cute face.

“Hei, Rune,” he said quietly, and he sat further up in bed.

“Hei,” I replied. I walked toward his bed and nodded toward the TV. “What are you watching?”

Alton looked at the TV, then back to me. “Swamp Monsters.” His head tipped to the side, and then he pushed his long hair from his face. Something in my stomach tugged as he did. “You want to watch it with me for a while?” Alton asked nervously, then dropped his head.

I could tell he thought I would say no. Surprising both him and myself, I replied, “Sure.”

Alton’s blue eyes widened to the size of saucers. He lay stiffly on his bed. When I stepped forward, he shuffled to the side of the narrow mattress.

I lay down beside him, kicking up my feet. Then Alton leaned against my side and continued watching his show. I watched it with him, only looking away when I caught him staring up at me.

When I met his eyes, his cheeks flushed with red and he said, “I like you watching this with me, Rune.”

Breathing through the unfamiliar feeling his words brought out, I ruffled his long hair and replied, “Me too, Alt. I like this too.”

Alton leaned back against my side. He lay there until he fell asleep, the timer on his TV kicking in and plunging the room into darkness.

Rising off the bed, I passed my mamma, who had been watching silently from the hallway. I nodded my head at her as I entered my room, turning and shutting the door behind me. I flipped the lock, placed one of the photos on the desk, and climbed through my window and ran across to Poppy’s.

When I entered her room, Poppy was still sleeping. Taking off my shirt, I walked around the side of her bed to where she slept. I placed the photo of us kissing by the water on her pillow, for her to see as soon as she woke up.

I climbed into her bed, Poppy automatically finding me in the dark, laying her head against my chest and wrapping her arm around my waist.

Four footprints in the sand.





Poppy

Three Months Later



“Where’s my Poppy-girl?”

I wiped sleep from my eyes, sitting up on my bed, excitement zipping through me at the sound of a voice I loved.

“Aunt DeeDee?” I whispered to myself. I tried to listen harder, making sure I really had heard her voice. Muffled voices came from the hallway, then suddenly the door flew open. I rose on my arms, the darn things shaking after I pushed my weakening muscles too far.

I lay back down as Aunt DeeDee appeared in the doorway. Her dark hair was pulled into a bun, and she was wearing her flight attendant uniform. Her makeup was perfectly in place, as was her infectious smile.

Her green eyes softened when they landed on me. “There she is,” she said gently, walking to my bed. She sat down on the edge of the mattress and leaned down to wrap me in her arms.

“What are you doing here, DeeDee?”

My aunt smoothed my hair back from its sleep-induced disarray and whispered conspiringly, “Blowing you from this joint.”

My eyebrows drew together in confusion. Aunt DeeDee had spent Christmas and New Year with us, and then a whole week with us, just two weeks ago. I knew she had a busy schedule over the next month.

Which was why I was so confused about her being back now.

“I don’t understand,” I said, swinging my legs off the mattress. For the past few days I had mostly been stuck in bed. After my hospital check-up at the beginning of the week, we found my white blood cell count was too low. I had been given blood and medication to help. And it had helped some, but it made me tired for a few days. Kept me inside so infections were kept at bay. My doctors had wanted me to stay in the hospital, but I’d refused. I wasn’t missing a second of my life by being back in that place. Not now that I could see that my cancer was increasing its grip on me. Every second was becoming more and more precious.