A Thousand Boy Kisses(84)



It was five minutes before a doctor spoke to us. He stood still, his face blank. “Mr. and Mrs. Litchfield, Poppy’s body is trying to fight off an infection. As you know, her immune system is severely compromised.”

“Is this it?” Mrs. Litchfield prompted, her throat tight with grief.

The doctor’s words seeped into my brain. I turned my head away from him as I sensed a pair of eyes watching me.

The doctors had cleared a space, and through that space, I saw Poppy’s pretty face covered in a mask, IVs in her arms. But her green eyes, those green eyes I adored, were on me. Her hand hung out to the side.

“We’ll do all that we can. We’ll give her a moment before we put her under.”

I heard the doctor say they were putting her into a medically induced coma to help her try to fight the infection. And that we had to see her before they did. But my feet were already moving. Her hand was held out for me.

As soon as I took Poppy’s hand, I saw her eyes searching for mine and her head shook weakly. I briefly closed my eyes, but when they opened I couldn’t stop the tear escaping down my cheek. Poppy made a noise below her oxygen mask, and I didn’t need to take it off to know what she had said. She wasn’t leaving me yet. I could see the promise in her eyes.

“Rune, son,” Mr. Litchfield said. “Can we have a moment with Poppy, to kiss her and speak with her some?”

I nodded and went to move aside, when Poppy made a sound and shook her head again. She squeezed my hand again. Because she didn’t want to let me go.

Leaning forward, I pressed a kiss on her head, feeling her warmth on my lips, inhaling her sweet scent. “I’ll be just over there, Poppymin. I won’t leave you, I promise.”

Poppy’s eyes tracked me as I stepped away. I watched as Mr. and Mrs. Litchfield spoke quietly to their daughter, kissing her and gripping her hand.

I leaned against the wall of the small room, clenching my fists as I fought to hold myself together. I had to be strong for her. She hated tears. She hated to burden her family with all this.

She wouldn’t see me break.

Mrs. Litchfield disappeared from the room. When she came back in, Ida and Savannah followed. I had to turn away when I saw the pain in Poppy’s eyes. She adored her sisters, she wouldn’t want them to see her like this.

“Poppy,” Ida cried and rushed to her side. Poppy’s weak hand drifted down her younger sister’s face. Ida kissed Poppy on her cheek, then stepped back into Mrs. Litchfield’s waiting arms. Savannah went next. Savannah broke down on seeing her sister, her hero, this way. Poppy held her hand and Savannah whispered, “I love you, PopPops. Please … please don’t leave, not yet.”

Poppy shook her head, then looked back my way, her hand struggling to move in my direction. I walked over, feeling like every step was a mile. Inside of me was a flurried storm of darkness, but as soon as my hand slipped into hers, the storm calmed. Poppy blinked up at me, her long dark lashes fluttering on her cheeks. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I leaned down and pushed the hair back from her face.

“Hei, Poppymin,” I said quietly, with as much strength as I could muster. Poppy’s eyes closed on hearing my words. I knew that under the mask she’d be smiling. When her eyes fixed on mine, I said, “They need to put you under for a while to help you fight off this infection.” Poppy’s head nodded in understanding. “You’ll get to dream, baby,” I said, and made myself smile. “Go visit with your mamaw awhile, while you gather the strength to come back to me.” Poppy sighed, a tear escaping her eye. “We have things you want to do before you go home, remember?”

Poppy nodded lightly and I kissed her cheek. When I pulled back, I whispered, “Sleep, baby. I’ll stay right here, waiting for you to come back to me.”

I stroked back Poppy’s hair until her eyes closed and I knew she had given herself to sleep.

The doctor entered a second later. “If you all go wait in the family room, I’ll be through with an update when we have her all set up.”

I heard her family leaving, but as I stared at her hand in mine, I didn’t want to let go. A hand landed on my shoulder and I looked up to find the doctor looking at me. “We’ll take care of her son, I promise.”

Pressing a final kiss to her hand, I forced myself to let go and leave the room. As the doors shut behind me, I looked up to see the family room opposite. But I couldn’t go in. I needed air. I needed…

I rushed toward the small garden at the end of the hallway and burst through the door. The warm wind drifted over my face and, seeing I was alone, I staggered to the bench in the center of the garden. Dropping to the seat, I let the sadness take me.

My head fell forward and landed in my hands. The tears dropped down my face. I heard the sound of the door opening. When I looked up, my pappa was hovering near the door.

I waited for the usual anger to hit me when I saw his face. But it must have been buried under a mass of grief. My pappa didn’t say anything. Instead, he walked forward and sat beside me. He made no move to comfort me. He knew I wouldn’t welcome his touch. Instead, he just sat there while I fell apart.

A part of me was glad. I would never tell him. But as much as I wouldn’t admit it, I didn’t want to be alone.

I wasn’t sure how much time passed, but eventually I straightened and pushed the hair back from my face. I wiped my hand down over my face.

Tillie Cole's Books