Chapter 9

* * *

POPPY

The anxiety was killing her,leaving Michael there with whatever was happening with his parents and Madison's boyfriend, Emmett; but they needed to figure it out, and if things were tense, she sure didn't want to be in the line of fire. She hoped it would be early tomorrow when she got to see Michael because the worry would eat at her all night. She heard her phone ding beside her in the car just as she pulled up to the house.

Bet you thought I'd forget to text you again

The thought did cross my mind.

Are you okay?

Paperwork snafu.

That's it?

Long story best told under different conditions.

Like over coffee?

Actually, I had a thought.

Oh?

I'm off work for the next three days. How about we take off somewhere?

Really? You and me?

Adventures in love, remember?

So this is a work trip?

Adventure with MEEEE.

Pack a light bag.

Overnight?

Scared?

I'm already packing.

See you at ten and I'll bring the coffee.

You got it!

Sweet dreams, Poppy and thank you.

For what?

For everything.

Poppy stared at the string of text messages, unsure what to say. Her heart swelled in awareness of what a miracle this was. She and Michael were going to run away together, be alone, and work toward being a couple. This was the most amazing turn of events that she could have ever wished for. She looked up to see her parents standing there on the front porch. Her father's arm was around her mother's shoulders as they smiled at her.

Getting out of the car, she hesitated, unsure how they would react to her taking off for several days with a grown man. Her father could be very conservative, almost prudish, and her mother would not disagree with the man. The two were as solid as a rock when it came to their decisions.

"'Bout time you got home," her father chuckled easily, glancing at her mom before smiling back at her. "You need to hurry."

"For what?"

"Your trip."

"How'd you know…" she gaped, stunned, staring at them in shock. "Wait, you don't mind?"

"You're a grown woman, and if he disrespects you," her father shrugged, his lips twitching. "I'll break his face."

"Gage," her mother hissed, swatting at his chest and chuckling before looking at her. "Your father and I think you are both capable of making decisions that bring you happiness in your life. It's about time you stopped worrying about what other people think and start grasping at joy for yourself. Have a great time, take pictures, and we'll want to hear all the details of your trip when you get home."

"Who are you, and what have you done with my parents?" she asked warily, walking past them slowly, like she was about to be attacked.

"We were young once," her father began, giving her a steady look. "When you get to a point where you've made up your mind – it's settled. Things happen fast from there, and all I ask is that you never look back."

"Okay, again, weird conversations. Is everything all right? Invasion of the body snatchers?"

"Not at all," her father said and looked at her mother. "I just remembered how sometimes you can let imagined problems get in the way of real happiness, but if you trust the other person to be the one, talk it out, life has a way of being better than you ever imagined… so go with that. Okay?"

"You've been waiting for Michael this whole time," her mother added softly, glancing up at her father. "Sometimes you get to a point where you are tired of waiting – only to realize that they are too. Go pack your things, sweetie."

"Y'all are weird," she uttered once more skeptically and heard her parents laugh as they suddenly lost interest in her, speaking to each other.

"Abbykins, wanna dance in the moonlight with your guy?"

"I thought you'd never ask, Gage…"

"Maybe we can run for ice cream later…"

"Revisit some old memories?"

"Treasure them… and make new ones, my love."

Poppy sighed, melting at the sweetness between her parents, and then realized she'd just had her own moment with Michael in the pantry. It was weird and quirky but exceedingly tender, which made her look at her parents again. Her father was staring down at her mother with this yearning written across his face as he slowly began to tug her toward the backyard for their moonlit dance.

Had they shared dumb little moments? Did it mean so much to them because of the other person that they were with? After all, what was a memory but a record of those feelings in that moment? Excitement, love, and everything in between – and none of that mattered about the location, the time, or the place. It always boiled down to that other person, and for her, it was and would always be Michael.

Smiling happily, she moved to pack her bags, wondering what Michael had up his sleeve.

* * *

Michael pickedher up the next morning, once again surprising her. She expected to meet him at Flyboys or to get a phone call setting a time, but never expected to walk out into the kitchen to get her coffee – and see him. Michael, her mother, and her father were sitting at the kitchen table like it was the most natural thing in the world, shocking her. The trio stopped the conversation, and Michael rose to his feet, smiling at her.

"Okay," Poppy began warily. "Now I know something is up…"

"Why?" he chuckled easily. "Your father and I work together all the time. Can't I bum a cup of coffee from him?"

"You've never come over or ‘bummed a cup of coffee' from my dad – or my mother. First, you guys acted weird last night, and now this? Is it the end of times? Am I sick? Are you sick? Is someone dying?"

"She gets that negativity from you, Abby…" her father muttered, his eyes twinkling as he looked at her mother.

"Whatever, Gage. We both know that skepticism is all you."

And before her very eyes, all three of them laughed like they were in on some little secret. Poppy arched an eyebrow, crossed her arms, and looked at them pointedly, only to have Michael hand her a cup of coffee.

"Why would you need to ‘bum a cup of coffee' when you brought some?"

"Would you relax?" he chuckled, smiling at her. "Sometimes things are not what they seem, and other times, they are exactly that."

"All of you need to stop with the whole ‘mysterious comment' segment because some of us do not find it enjoyable. It's… creepy."

"Creepy? Should I go?"

"We're both leaving, remember?"

"Only if you want to…" Michael taunted in a hushed, sing-song voice that was exceedingly playful and surprising, considering they had an audience. She looked up at him, saw the happiness in his gaze, and felt something turn over within her as he whispered to her softly. "Let's do this."

And she nodded.

She was so in love with this man before her and had been for forever. Just seeing Michael like this now, so comfortable in his environment, his own skin, and no longer trying to fit into the mold other people wanted him to squeeze into - he was finally happy and it was incredible to behold. He slipped his hand into hers, leaned forward to kiss the tip of her nose, and smiled.

"Houdini, see you Monday at work."

"Take care of my girl, Thing Two," her father said simply, again surprising Poppy because she expected him to balk, question, or comment about her being gone for a few days with Michael – yet he didn't.

But her mother did…

"Gage, they'll be fine."

"I know. That's the only reason he's leaving with my Poppy-girl. That boy would give his life to make her smile, which makes him acceptable to me."

Poppy turned to look at Michael and saw his eyes, realizing her father was right. No matter what imagined ‘ills' there were in the past, all of the confusion, the bickering, everything… she saw what her father meant about Michael. There, in his eyes, for anyone to see, was the truth. This man loved her and treasured her very existence, putting herself into his hands, his heart, his soul, his protection forever.

"Adventures in love… huh?"

"Yes," she smiled tearfully at him as he opened the car door. "Let's begin our adventure together."

"Your wish is my command… always."

* * *

Two hours later,Poppy stared at the scene before her with awareness and smiled. It was so ironic they were landing at the Austin municipal airport once more when the last time she was here, she'd wished that Michael was at her side.

Austin was a brief jaunt via plane and an easy escape, but so much more. There were forests full of fauna, caves to explore, beautiful rivers to float down, and the culture was an eclectic mix of everything. You could find reggae music in one club and country western in another. If you wanted tacos, there were probably ten different varieties from ten various cultures in a six-block area. Parts of the city were bright, colorful, and laden with art – while other parts of the city were sun-bleached, quarried limestone lining massive buildings.

"C'mon," he chuckled, waving her forward to the taxi that waited for them.

Michael was smiling, looked so excited, and she was so lost in this moment, taking in everything, while at the same time taking photos to post on her blog. She took a photo of their hands together as they were entering the taxi, caught several of the cityscape, and marveled as they left the city behind, causing her to look at him.

"Where are we going?"

"Don't you trust me?"

"I'm here, aren't I?"

"I'm just playing with you," he chuckled, bringing her hand up to his lips and kissing it. "I'm just amazed sometimes at how smooth things can be between us when we stop trying to do what everyone else says. Maybe we should take that as a sign…" and his voice trailed off as the vehicle came to a stop.

Poppy hesitated as Michael got out of the taxi, holding out his hand to her, and stared in disbelief. She knew this place. She had written an article on this location last year. This was a tiny little chapel that specialized in elopements and last-minute weddings.

Her heart hammered in her chest as she watched him pay the taxi driver and get their bags out of the trunk, and as the car drove off, he turned to her extending his hand.

No words.

No questions.

He waited for her – and she knew he would always do so, just like she would for him. There was no fighting this between them anymore, and she didn't know how he'd arranged any of this. A part of her was too afraid to speak up and maybe she was misunderstanding what was happening, so instead of saying something or questioning it.

She put her hand in his and saw him nod.

They stepped forward together. Michael had both their overnight bags looped over his shoulder and simply held her hand as they moved to ring the buzzer. Was this really happening? Were they actually eloping? He hadn't proposed, they hadn't talked about rings or anything; they were supposed to have coffee today, yet here she was.

He held her gaze as they stood there, silent. Neither spoke, and she wasn't sure she could. Words that she used every day for her blog, her Instagram, her very work— they all failed her as the front door to the chapel opened.

"Mr. Petersen. Welcome to you both. I got the files you submitted, and we're ready to go," a bright woman smiled at them, waving them forward as Michael held her gaze.

"Files?" she whispered under her breath.

"For us to marry," he replied softly, his eyes searching hers. "I'm done with fighting this feeling inside of me and was on my way to see you when you showed up at the house, kissing me."

"You were?"

"I've always loved you – and I can't do this anymore alone. I would rather bicker, tease, or argue on a daily basis as we figure out what makes us happy… than for me to be alone and feel empty without you."

His words were so open, raw and honest, combined with the earnestness in his gaze, that she felt tears stinging her own eyes. He was right. Fighting this, being alone and wondering what was going on, was a terrible feeling.

She felt at home holding his hand, experienced contentment like no other in his arms, and treasured the feeling of safety, knowing he would always support her – even from afar. Ever since that first kiss, she had known they were meant to be more and hadn't fought those feelings until others started making suggestions as to what they should do with their lives.

"Let's decide for us what our next steps are – and take them together," Michael began, his voice emotional yet strong. He wasn't stammering, frightened, or angry, yet felt serene, and it ebbed from every pore of him. He was ready to be at her side and asked her to join him.

"You're sure?"

"I asked your father's permission a few days ago," he admitted, still standing there before the chapel, not moving. No, he was going to give her the option to back out if she wasn't ready, and she appreciated that. He always put her first until they were separated, but his words rang in her mind.

I checked your website, read your blogs, and watched you from afar…

He couldn't let go, and she couldn't either.

"And Madison?"

"She's the one that helped me plan this," he chuckled softly. "Everyone always said, ‘Oh, you two could have a double wedding,' but neither of us wanted that. I love having a twin. Madison's my best friend, and that connection will always be there, but she understands and respects the fact that we are individual people, too. When she marries Emmett Wilkes, I'll be supporting her in whatever she chooses because that's her moment to savor, just like this is ours."

"And your parents?"

"Are still never babysitting," he grinned as she laughed aloud. "I think I would prefer to have family vacations with all of us instead of dumping our kids off somewhere with grandma and grandpa – and worrying they are going to shove them in a pantry for their own good."

"So we're having kids someday?" she smirked in sheer delight.

"Maybe…" he said evasively – and winked at her.

"Guess we should make this legitimate then…"

"I do like the idea of being yours."

"I kinda like the idea of being yours too…"

They shared a tender smile and stepped forward to exchange their vows in the tiny chapel in the middle of nowhere.

* * *

Not thirty minutes later,Poppy was following Michael as they climbed and walked along an extremely long ‘boardwalk' of sorts that was two feet wide. The wooden walkway was flanked by ‘walls' made of brambles and branches to give it a hidden look from the forest floor below. Michael had made arrangements for them to stay at a plush treehouse hidden on the outskirts of Austin – and it was like something from a fairy tale.

Large curling branches hid the small wooden cabin and deck from view, cradling them in the trees about fifty feet off the ground. Luckily she wasn't afraid of heights, or this might have put quite the damper on their impromptu honeymoon. Instead, she was invigorated as a bird flew almost directly past her forehead, causing her to start and laugh nervously.

"Wait until sunset," Michael chuckled. "We're supposed to see the bats come up from their roosting spots in some of the caves to feed on the mosquitos. It's supposed to be quite a sight…"

"No rabies?"

"I'll be the only one biting at you, Mrs. Petersen," he chuckled, grinning at her. "Nothing is going to be attacking you, and we'll watch the scenery unfold together. I promise."

"This is incredible," she whispered, getting to the top and taking in the expansive views. "I can't believe all of this…"

"I wanted us to focus on making memories together," he smiled, setting down their bags on the landing… and picked her up. Poppy was so surprised she clung to his shoulders, afraid that with one wrong move, they would both go careening downward, plunging to their deaths.

"There's a net, sweetheart," he whispered knowingly. "But I don't plan on testing it either."

"Thank you."

"My pleasure, I assure you. I have no wish to ruin things before I get to spend hours holding you close."

"Yeah, that would kinda ruin the moment, wouldn't it?"

"No ‘kinda' about it," he grinned, carrying her over the threshold and into the tiny cabin before setting her down. The small, rounded door was painted a bright red and hid behind it a very simple room. There was a full-size bed that took up most of the space and sliding doors opposite of it that revealed an outdoor shower along with a composting toilet. It was rough, but you didn't stay in a treetop cabin for the amenities.

You were here for the moment, the adventure, the memories, and they were going to do just that. She turned and looked at him, treasuring the way his eyes would melt as he looked at her – and always had. Michael's eyes had always pulled at something in her soul, and she was free to give into that sensation now as his wife.

"No television…"

"Nope."

"No… hot tub or…"

"Nope and nope," he interrupted, stepping forward, making his presence known. The back of his fingers caressed her cheek as they stared at each other. There was no one to pull him away, no one to interrupt them, and no one to tell them to grow up, be careful, or do things a certain way.

"I love you," she breathed, not holding back.

"I love you too," he murmured, putting his hands on her waist as he moved to pull her close. There was no reason to fight this, no excuses to hold back or delay, but still, she didn't want to rush into things, and this was probably the most romantic thing that he'd ever done for her.

There were yards and yards of white mosquito netting gathered at each of the four corners of the bedposts. A bottle of bubbly sat on a small nightstand with two flutes beside it – and a cupcake. It was sweet, tender, and obviously meant a lot to him to go to these lengths to impress her.

She threaded her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, letting herself drown in those parts of his soul that she had glimpsed for so long and couldn't enjoy. His gaze held hers, almost like he was savoring the same thing, before he finally leaned toward her. His breath mingled with hers. She laid her hand on his chest over his heart, as he spoke, his words beckoning straight to her soul.

"I've loved you for so long please, let's just take our time on our greatest adventure yet," he breathed.

"For the first time in my life, I'm in no rush to figure anything else out in my world…"

"Me neither."

* * *

As the sun set,Poppy smiled at her husband as he walked out onto the deck unabashedly for all the world to see or well, any airplanes, birds, or one very loving wife, she mused, grinning.

"Have you no shame?"

"Zilch," he laughed, holding up the champagne in one hand and the flutes in another. "Why are you wearing a blanket? It's like eighty degrees out here…"

"Bugs."

"I told you, wife," he grinned. "I'm the only one nibbling at you, remember? Now, hop up and let your poor, neglected husband sit with you."

"Neglected? Ha!"

Both of them laughed easily, sharing a look as the sky turned vibrant shades of orange and purple on the horizon. Poppy stood up, allowing Michael to sit down, and then joined him, covering them both from any possible bugs, mosquitos, cicadas, or bats in the area. As if to prove her point, a bluejay landed briefly on the railing of their little love nest, causing both of them to hesitate.

"Can you reach my phone," Poppy whispered. "I want a photo."

"Nooo," he whispered silently. "I'm terrified that he's looking for a worm."

Her loud bark of laughter caused the bird to fly away as they both broke into fits of amusement at the innuendo, still floating on the emotional high shared between them. He handed her the cell phone behind him with a pointed look.

"For the next bird…"

"Of course."

"Love, honor, and cherish… don't forget that."

"I won't."

"Champagne?"

"Is it any good?"

"Well, I'm going to go with ‘probably not' because I think champagne doesn't have an ‘I' in the word, and this is misspelled."

"What?"

He held up the bottle, chuckling, and sure enough – it was a knockoff bottle of bubbly. The label clearly said ‘Champaine,' causing the two of them to exchange a knowing look.

"Should we drink it?"

"I'm not sure. What's the alcohol rating that can make you go blind?"

"That's a thing?"

"Hey, I thought I was the young, na?ve, and hot thing here. Don't tell me it's you…"

Poppy laughed again as Michael leaned forward to kiss her noisily several times on the cheek, temple, and forehead in a playful manner – before finally settling down to hug her from behind and kiss her tenderly.

"I love you, wife…"

Before she could whisper her words of love to him, something shot past them in her peripheral vision, making both of them catch their breath. They turned together and Michael quickly poured the knock-off-bubbly, holding her close as a throng of bats danced, dove, and fluttered on the wind, feeding on imaginary bugs in the air. The world was so still, so silent, and so breathtakingly beautiful. She grabbed her phone and hit record, catching nature at its simplest form.

Was it normal?

Gracious noooo… but were they happy?

Very.

They sat there for hours. Long after the bats had left, eons after the moon and stars rose in the sky, forever and a day… just holding each other, savoring the feeling of being free of all constraints, demands, and expectations, and focusing on each other.

"Let's continue this path," he said softly. "I already found an apartment for us to rent if you want to look at it together when we get home. I don't want us to be apart anymore, and we'll figure this out."

"I agree," she murmured, looking up at him and smiling. "I don't care what the apartment looks like – let's take it. Between the two of us, our things, we should be able to get somewhat started with this new life, Mr. Petersen – but I do have one demand."

"What's that?" he chuckled, lifting her hand to his face and kissing her ring finger which was currently empty. It wasn't that Poppy cared, but obviously, he felt slightly guilty regarding the lack of it. This was all a spur-of-the-moment decision for the both of them, and she didn't begrudge the ring anyhow. Her mother never even wore her wedding rings anymore. It made her eczema break out on her hands.

"I need internet access at the apartment – for work."

"Trust me, I think we'll make that happen," he smiled, shaking his head, and leaned forward to kiss her again tenderly. "You say the word, and I'm yours…"