Chapter 4

* * *

POPPY

Six months later…

Michael's… home?

Poppy stared at the email from Madison in her hotel room, shocked and horrified. She had just arrived in Austin to do a review on the area – and wanted to leave immediately. Touring Sixth Street, seeing the capitol building, or tubing down the Guadalupe did not sound as appealing as what people had told her compared to the fact that Michael was home.

Poppy,

I thought you should know that Michael is back from the Academy. Everyone has kept it very hushed and under wraps. He's going to be working at Flyboys with your father – and he's different.

I think he could use a friend.

I know things are strained between the two of you, but when you fly back in, ya' might end up running into him. I wanted to warn you in case he's acting odd, just say ‘hello' and give him time.

Love ya' girl!

Madison

Did he quit the Academy? Did that really even happen? What about the fees, the repercussions, the penalties?It was, after all, a college – and Michael had been about to start his third year.

All he ever talked about was wanting to fly and explore the world. That was something they had in common and had whispered about in secret. They both had a fascination to see places, and experience different foods and cultures, and she knew he thought that being in the Air Force would provide that experience… but maybe it hadn't? And what did Madison mean by ‘he's different'?

Michael hadn't written to her once while at the Academy, and that stung. It was like things were really over between them, but her dumb heart kept saying that wasn't the case. She was giving him space – correction – they were both taking time for themselves to grow into a better version for the other when it was finally time.

"Stop seeing everything with rose-colored glasses," she whispered to herself and dug out her notepad where her list of things to see was located… and sighed. "You have a job to do, a world to see, and Michael will be there when you return home to see him."

Grabbing her purse, her sunglasses, and her cell phone – she headed out.

* * *

Three days later,Poppy was flying back to Yonder and saw the runway in the distance, immediately radioing in to request a landing.

Flyboys, this is Cessna 1204 requesting clearance to land

Cessna 1204, please circle around and prepare to land. Welcome back, Poppy.

Smiling, she heard Harley's voice like an old familiar friend and she did as she asked. She circled around, allowing another plane in the area to land first and slowed her approach to begin her descent. As she started to line up, she saw a figure come running out of the building, directly across the runway, and jump in a vehicle.

She was so shocked at the sight of Michael actually leaving Flyboys at her approach that she nearly botched it. Hurriedly, she adjusted the throttle to slow the engine a little more, angled the flaps as far as possible, and prepared for a rougher-than-usual landing.

Taxiing forward, she saw her father come out of the building and noticed Michael's parents in the distance, standing together in front of the hangar; everyone was watching her. It wasn't hard to put two-and-two together – Michael left the facility because of her arrival.

He ran, rather than being in the same place or facing her. The pain at the realization was horrifying and almost had her in tears instantly, but she really didn't want to give anyone the satisfaction. She'd cried several times over that man and wouldn't do it again in front of everyone closest to him. Pulling close, she cut the engine and saw Glory raise a hand in welcome. Unbuckling, opening the plane's door, and climbing out – she turned to face her.

"Give him time," Glory said quietly in a knowing voice. "He's been through a lot and needs to feel safe before you talk to him."

"Is he okay?"

"Yes… I think."

It was those innocently tacked-on words that gave Poppy pause because the ‘Yes-or-No' question had to be qualified… which meant he was okay, but something was still not right. Nodding silently, she blinked several times and uttered a quick ‘hang on' before digging out her bag. She saw her father's shoes appear within her peripheral vision just as she found what she was looking for. Pulling out the small gift bag, she gave it to Glory.

"Could you give this to him – from me."

"Of course, sweetie. How was Austin?"

Cold, lonely, boring when you had no one to enjoy it with,she thought and plastered a fake smile on her face, nodding silently. "It was fine."

"Hey, Poppy," her father interrupted, almost as if he understood that she was teetering on the edge. He reached down and picked up her bag, putting an arm around her shoulders, and pulled her away, kissing the top of her head. "How are you holding up, baby?"

"I'm fine. I'm always fine."

"I think we both know better."

"Is he okay?" she finally asked, not bothering to hide her truest self from the man who'd always been there for her. Her daddy was her everything and always had been. He was strong, quiet, and silent, providing support for her like a stable base for the baby bird to continually return to roost.

Her father set her bag down on the trunk of her car and looked at her.

"Michael's been shaken," he admitted. "His pride and confidence are in tatters right now, and we are trying to keep things quiet…"

"What happened?"

"That's his story to share with you if he wants you to know. I don't even know everything that happened, but he's been blindsided. Give him time, let him get comfortable and back on his feet, and I'm sure you'll run into each other once again." Her father hesitated and looked at her, lowering his voice. "I know you care for that boy – and I'm trying to help. I promise I'm trying to help him, but I'm also human. Give your ol' man time to get used to the idea of his baby girl growing up, too. Okay?"

Poppy threw her arms around her father, hugging him tightly. She understood what he was trying to say and ask of her. He was trying to be that steady rock for Michael too – without causing a problem for her. He was doing this for her, out of respect and love for his only child… and honestly, she couldn't be more grateful.

"I love you, Daddy…"

"I love you too, Poppy-girl…" he whispered, kissing the top of her head.

* * *

It wasthe middle of the next day when her cell phone dinged loudly beside her. Poppy was in her bedroom, sitting at her desk, working and making graphics to upload while plotting a travel itinerary for the city to offer up a ‘getaway package' for locals. Her blog, Instagram, and website had quite a few ‘hits,' and she was monetized, actually getting paid about ten bucks a month from clicks… which just shocked her. She had no idea that was a ‘thing,' and that there was a potential for growth before her. It was just the travel agency portion now that was an income, but now there was so much more.

Picking up her cell phone, she stared at the screen.

Thank you for the coffee mug. That was thoughtful.

Welcome home. Glad you are back.

She wanted to be simple, easy, and unassuming, basing her tone on what wasn't said aloud by her father. If Michael had the carpet pulled out from under him, everything would feel like a criticism or an attack. The more personal it was, the more he would resent it; which would explain him leaving in the middle of the day, running from her.

Michael wasn't someone she would label as a ‘coward' either. He liked to go mountain climbing on vacations, had jumped from an airplane, and the man was always looking for strange things to experience, and that simple thought made her remember a conversation they'd once had. He shoved a magazine at her excitedly and tapped the paper with his finger.

"Look at that… camel races in Oman. Doesn't that look amazing?"

The picture had several travelers, filthy with sand, exhausted and tanned, but standing in robes before several camels – smiling almost as brightly as Michael had been.

"That looks incredible," she admitted, his enthusiasm and zest for life catching. "Can you imagine the majesty of the miles of sand around you, seeing the hues on the horizon… I wonder how bright the stars are, or…"

"I knew you would see the same things as I do," Michael had said softly. "It's not just the camels or the moment, but so much more that makes an experience come to life."

"Exactly," she nodded. "The smell of Bedouin fires at night, the sounds of the wind whistling across the dunes, the feeling of being insignificant under the universe's tapestry above…"

"I don't think you could ever be labeled as insignificant, Poppy…"

She remembered that conversation fondly, the look in his eyes, and stared at her phone screen as she saw three dots appear, indicating he was replying to her text. Those dots disappeared and reappeared a few times, but that reply never came. She was not going to push the matter because he needed to come forward of his own accord, reaching for her.

* * *

A month later…

Patience was not her strong suit,Poppy mused, pulling up to Flyboys with a box of donuts and two coffees. Oh yes, she was going to try to see what was going on with Michael, even if it killed her.

As she got out of the car, she saw Harley waving at the large bay window where her office was located with a view of the runway. Looking to her right, in the direction that the planes would be landing, she saw the path was clear. Starting forward, she saw Michael begin to open the front door to Flyboys – and freeze.

He met her eyes and then turned away.

Something in his eyes wasn't right, and she had never seen him slink back into the shadows of the building before. Usually, he would open the door, wave her forward, holler out a greeting, or something— anything but this. Her eyes slid toward Harley, who was no longer waving in greeting but looking sideways, almost in concern.

Michael was avoiding her.

And they were protecting him from her.

Poppy swallowed painfully, meeting Harley's gaze once more, and nodded. Instead of going inside the building to confront the man she adored, she returned to her car, giving him space.