Oh…fuck a duck. There’s no way she didn’t see me walking through her back yard
The knocking stopped.
I am such a bad human. Now she’s gonna think I’m ungrateful. An unfriendly tenant.
I gulped a large swallow of wine for fortification.
Get off your fat ass and go say hello to Alice.
I guzzled the remainder of the wine and stood.
“There you are.”
I scanned the deck. Spun around to look behind me. The room remained empty. But I recognized that deep voice.
“Lord, half a glass of wine and I’m hearing things,” I muttered.
“Poppy. I’m down here.”
With extreme care, I leaned over the railing. My heart sped up to the point you’d think I’d tried to run a 5K. Gabe stood on the ground before me, holding a gorgeous bouquet of magenta peonies.
“What’re you doing here?”
“I came to see you. Let me in.”
“Why would you—why are you back? Why are you whisper-shouting?”
“Poppy. Alice is in her back yard praying. Let. Me. In.” I peered over the railing and scanned the ground all around him for god knew what. The moment felt surreal, like instead of wine I’d smoked pot and hallucinations had set in.
“Poppy. I’m coming back up the stairs. Please. Let me in.”
He disappeared, and in minutes the tapping returned. I swung the door open.
“How did you know where I was?”
“Luna. I called her after I showed up at your old place and saw the Realtor’s lock on the door.”
“Yeah, Mrs. Rittenhouse has the place listed for sale. My lease ended.” He knew that. I told him I’d found a place.
“Can I come in?” I blinked away my confusion fog.
“Of course. Would you like some wine?”
He gave a slight nod and thrust out the flowers. “These are for you.”
“They’re gorgeous. Truly. But I’m so confused. What are you doing here? We already said goodbye, Gabe, and it hurt. Why are you back here?” Frustration oozed from my pores. There was an order to these things, and dammit, slipping up and going backward wasn’t smart.
He pushed the flowers into my hands, and I propped them up in the sink to deal with later. Dizziness engulfed me. I held on to the counter for balance.
Gabe lowered to one knee before me.
“What are you doing? Get up.”
“I’m not proposing. But…let me do this. I have to explain things. I have a speech planned, and I didn’t plan on kneeling, but this feels right.”
I opened my mouth and closed it repeatedly, like a guppy out of water.
“Please? Go with it?”
I nodded, incapable of more.
“I didn’t plan on falling in love with you. I think I had some preconceived notions that gave me a false sense of security that I couldn’t actually fall in love with you. On the outset, we’re different.”
I crossed my arms and had a mind to glare, but there was no glare in me.
“I think I thought I was the one helping you. But you didn’t want my money, and you pushed off most of my help. But I think you helped me, or at least changed me. I’m definitely a different person now. It took me going back to the city to see that. The things that used to thrill me don’t anymore. And what I want has changed.”
“That might not be me that changed you. There’s a quote out there that you should live in New York once, but not so long it makes you hard, and in the south, but not so long it makes you—”
“Soft. I heard it as San Francisco, but yeah. Maybe this place was a contributing factor, but Poppy…I think we make a good partnership. When I think about going out there on my own, returning to my old life, I don’t like…I didn’t like it. I don’t expect you to leave. You’re in the middle of making it on your own, and I’m not looking to take that away from you. You know, you’ve never said how you feel about me, but I’m back here, down on one knee, wondering if maybe you’d ever consider giving us a try? A real try? Without an end date on the horizon?”
My hands clasped over my mouth, and air from my deep breaths whizzed over my skin. Everything in front of me, this total scene, didn’t make sense.
“But you love New York. It has everything. Restaurants and shopping and—”
“Poppy, I went back. But I missed this place. I missed you.”
“But I’m not your kind of girl.” I searched for any sign he was joking, or delirious. There were tall, skinny, glamorous Sex and the City kind of women in New York City.
“Who says you’re not my kind of girl? Because I’m kneeling before you and, by the way, crushing my knee on a tile floor, to show you that you are very much my kind of girl. I love your zeal, your compassion and creativity, your heart and independence, passion and determination. I see the world through a Poppy colored lens now, and I have no interest in going back. Not to the way things used to be. Will you give me a chance? Will you give us a real try?”
“For real? Like, you’re going to change your social media status real?”
“I don’t know how to do that, but I’m sure I can figure it out.”
“What about your parents?”
“My mom thought you should move to New York.”
“Will you stand up?”
“No. Not until you agree to give us a chance.”
“I’m not moving to New York. I have—”
“I know. I would never ask you to. And here’s the thing. I’ve made it. I found my success. I can do my own investment thing. I don’t have to be in Manhattan. I don’t really want a boss. I don’t need one. I’m re-thinking what I want to do, and I can be anywhere. But you, you need to do this. I want you to go for it. And I want to be there supporting you. If you’ll let me.”
The fringes of the room grew blurry, and I stared up at the
