Chapter five

Poppy

I maneuvered into a parking spot at the community center and glanced at the dash clock. Damn it. Even driving like a granny, I’d arrived fifteen minutes early. I needed to cut my alone time with Theo if I wanted any chance of getting over him. A wiser woman wouldn’t take his class, but unless the high school let me audit a course, the community center was all I had. It’s not that I couldn’t learn on my own. If I’m being honest, Theo hadn’t taught me anything I didn’t already know, but art was the one topic that made me remotely social. It was nice to watch other people learn and to share what I knew. As a bonus, Theo’s classes usually inspired my work, whether from his assignments or just staring at him while he taught. I was doing what any sensible woman would in my situation. Still, I needed to kill some time in the hearse because my attraction to Theo ramped up whenever we were alone.

I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel a few minutes before I started talking to Tallulah like she was a person instead of a hearse. “I know this skirt is a little short, but it already has paint on it. And I wore the fishnets with the sheer underlayer so my legs are mostly covered. Maybe leggings would have been better. But come on, I’m wearing a turtleneck sweater. No one looks hot in a turtleneck sweater, even if it’s a little cropped. Theo won’t think I dressed up for him. Besides, what he thinks doesn’t matter. And last but not least, I’m wearing my cramp panties. I’ve got this.”

I tapped the steering wheel affectionately. The underwear was a brilliant idea, if I do say so myself. The granny panties were oversized, faded, and torn a little at the elastic. I usually only brought them out on the worst days of my cycle. I felt like a troll whenever I wore them. They practically guaranteed I wouldn’t flirt accidentally. And yes, flirting by accident is a thing. It’s practically a reflex near Theo.

I still had ten minutes to go until class started, but it’d be odd for me not to help set up. Pep talk complete, I climbed out of Tallulah and made my way to the art room. The lights were still off, which was strange. I groped around for the switch and flicked them on, pausing to look around before I stepped into the room. Theo wasn’t the type to wait in the dark to jump scare someone, but I’d learn to take precautions growing up with Chris.

Instead of my usual place by the front, I dumped my bag on one of the back tables and kicked out a stool with my boot. The door opened as I took a seat, and Theo’s Fan Club shuffled in. They glanced around the room for him and let out a collective sigh of disappointment.

“What are you doing all the way back there?”

Gladys Akon asked me as she shoved her walker to the Fan Club’s usual table at the front.

“Wanted a change of scenery.”

Millie Tomson laughed. “Honey, there’s no way the scenery is better back there. None of us have had a backside worth looking at in decades.”

“Speak for yourself,”

Gladys said, fluffing her hair, which resembled a puff of cotton candy swirled to perfection. She pulled a mirror from her purse and started applying bright pink lipstick with a shaky hand.

“Sit wherever you want, dear,”

my neighbor Mrs. Adams said, taking a seat at the table with them. “I bet she’s using us to shield his hotness,”

she added in a whisper loud enough for me to hear, but not loud enough for Esther.

“His hotdog?”

Esther Mensch said. “Oh no. Theo is a fine young man. He won’t be flashing his hot dog.”

“His hotness,”

Millie screamed as Mr. Fitzwilliam strolled through the door.

“Why thank you, Millie. You’re looking stunning yourself.”

“Sit down, you old coot,”

Millie said. “I wasn’t talking about you.”

Mr. Fitzwilliam waved to me before taking his usual seat in the middle. My old principal and neighbor, Mr. Twillings, arrived next and grabbed a stool beside Mr. Fitzwilliam after nodding to me.

I glanced at the wall clock and twisted back and forth on my stool. In the year I’d taken Theo’s classes, he’d never been late. Not once.

The door opened at exactly 7:00 pm, but it was Wilson. He looked at our usual table in the front, next to the Fan Club, then scanned the room until he found me in the back. Everyone started talking at once when they realized Theo was officially late.

“Hey Poppy,”

Wilson said kissing my cheek. “Where’s Theo?”

“No idea.”

I woke my phone to check for any missed texts or calls. Nothing.

“I’m sure he just got held up,”

Wilson said, groaning onto the stool beside mine. “How’s the sculpting going?”

I shrugged.

And because Wilson was such a rare gem, who never tried to get me to talk unless I wanted to, he quickly changed the subject. “I bought one of your snowflake cookies at Karma yesterday. It was almost too pretty to eat, so I took a picture and enjoyed every crumb with my tea last night.”

Wilson smiled at me and for some reason I wanted to burst into tears. He was the closest thing to a grandpa I’d ever had, and I wasn’t the only one who loved the man like family. The town’s beloved pharmacist was citizen of the year my entire childhood. Now he alternated the honor with Lauren, who seemed on a mission to save every damaged animal and person within a ten-mile radius of Peace Falls.

After my dad died, Wilson checked in on us often and helped out as much as Mom allowed. I was only nine at the time, so it wasn’t until years later that I learned his wife had died in childbirth decades before I was born, and his newborn daughter only lived a few days after. He never remarried, which broke my heart even now since he clearly enjoyed being around people. Wilson patted my hand, but didn’t say anything, proving once again what a treasure he was. We waited in companionable silence until the door flew open.

The moment Theo stepped into the room, I knew something terrible had happened. Apparently, so did everyone else. All chatter ceased. Theo’s eyes darted around until they found mine. I rose from my stool and walked to him while everyone stared. So much for keeping my distance. He might as well have snagged a hook in my fishnets and reeled me in.

When I reached him, he gripped my hand and led me into the hall. His fingers felt clammy in mine, and his chest rose and fell in short bursts. As soon as the door closed behind us, he pulled me into a tight hug. His full lips and short beard brushed my neck as he nestled his face against me. My core clinched like it always did on the few occasions he’d touched me, but even as my body reacted to the nearness of his, I knew this was a plea for comfort. He cuddled Skye when he felt panicked. I made a mental note to consider later how I felt about being interchangeable with Cal’s dog.

“Breathe with me,”

I said, rubbing my hands up and down his back. His heart hammered against my ear as he exhaled in frantic bursts, which despite the circumstance, felt so good on my neck my breathing became rapid. I kept rubbing his back and forced my breaths to slow. After a few moments, his breathing steadied as well.

He’d never held me this long. At best, I could count on a brief hug, a teasing sample of his strong arms and stomach-fluttering pheromones. He surrounded me now like the sepal of an unopened flower. Even though I was comforting him, I’d never felt so protected. I wanted to stay locked in his embrace forever, but I knew it’d only last until he felt calm.

“I’m good now,”

he said. He dropped his arms, cleared his throat, and straightened to his full height, an entire foot above my measly five foot, two inches, taking my arms with him. I pulled them back and tilted up my head.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“I need to start class.”

“They can wait.”

“We should have started five minutes ago,”

he said, turning toward the door.

I wiggled between him and the doorknob and opened it first. “All right, listen up. All y’all know each other, so we’re cutting the usual ice breaker. Instead, I want you to sketch something you think you draw well, then something you struggle to draw. I don’t care if it’s a pair of stick figures. Sketch pads and charcoal pencils are in the closet. Any questions?”

“Are you teaching the class now?”

Principal Twillings asked.

“Heck no. Just draw your sketches. We’ll be back in ten minutes.”

A series of ohs and ahs erupted from the class. You’d think they were a bunch of middle schoolers the way they carried on.

“Ought to take more than ten minutes,”

Mr. Fitzwilliam said.

“Not if he knows what he’s doing,”

Mrs. Adams countered. “My Frankie can make me—”

I slammed the door shut. I’d heard enough from the Adams’s house the few times I’d dared to keep my bedroom windows open at night. “Want to talk here or outside?”

Theo slid down the wall and sat on the linoleum floor with his long legs stretched out in front of him. He still looked pale, but his hands no longer shook. I considered how best to sit without flashing my cramp panties and finally dropped to one knee, then flopped on my ass beside him. My combat boots looked like the kiddie version of his and only reached his knees once I pressed my back against the wall. I waited a good twenty seconds for him to start talking before I said, “Spill it.”

“Max evicted me,”

he said quietly, his deep voice still powerful enough to rumble into my side where we touched. “I have to find a new place before February.”

“Why on earth would he do that?”

I asked, twisting to look at him.

He turned his head and those warm brown eyes were so sad, my breath stalled in my chest before a surge of hot rage erased the chill of the sticky linoleum against my legs. Max was officially on my shit list.

“It’s time,”

he said. “He’s been wanting me to find a better place for a while, and someone else needs the apartment more than I do.”

“That’d make sense if you had another rental lined up or more time to find one. Where does he expect you to live?”

“If I can’t find something right away, he offered his guest room until I did.”

Well, that changed things. I’d been five seconds from jumping off the floor, oversized underwear be damned, and speeding to Max’s house to give him a piece of my mind. Clearly, Max didn’t want Theo to be homeless any more than I did. But unlike me, he was secure enough in their relationship to push Theo in the direction he wanted him to go. “What about all your furniture and stuff?”

“The apartment came furnished. Everything I own should fit in a couple boxes and a suitcase.”

That sounded a heck of a lot more manageable than when I moved Rowan and all her crap from DC in the back of Tallulah. And if he had a temporary place to live, moving out of that shithole over the tattoo shop wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.

“Are you worried you can’t afford something else?”

I asked and winced. “Never mind, that’s really nosy. Forget I asked.”

He chuckled and grabbed my hand. My stomach flipped, both at the sound of his laughter and his touch. He’d initiated more contact in the last five minutes than the entire year I’d known him. His hand swallowed mine, and he did this little caress with his thumb that made my toes curl. Thank the stars we were sitting on the gross floor, or my knees might have started shaking.

“Money isn’t the problem as much as my record.”

“Oh.”

It’s not that I didn’t know Theo had been to prison. He had the badass tatted-and-pierced look of someone who shouldn’t be messed with, but it was just part of his wall. He was sweet as caramel to everyone who treated him with a sniff of kindness and ignored the people who didn’t. “Anyone who knows you won’t care. Besides, isn’t that discrimination?”

“Being a felon isn’t a protected class. A lot of guys I know had a terrible time finding housing after they got out.”

“Always or just when they were released? You’ve been a model citizen for eight years,”

I said squeezing his hand. “You even volunteer your time to teach a bunch of old farts how to paint.”

He tensed and I instantly regretted mentioning class. “We better get inside,” he said.

He stood and pulled me to my feet, tugging harder than necessary to lift my puny frame. I slammed into him and his eyes darkened as he dropped his hands to my waist to steady me before putting an absurd amount of space between us. “Thanks for talking me down, Poppy. You’re a great friend.”

“Anytime, pal,”

I said, doing my best to crush the snark from my tone. “Come on. Let’s see how many penis drawings they did.”

“Six minutes, thirty-four seconds,”

Mr. Fitzwilliam shouted as Theo and I rejoined the class. “Twillings?”

“Their clothes appear undisturbed, but there’s gum on Ms. Stevens’s skirt.”

“What?”

I said, spinning around like Skye chasing her tail.

“Nope, just a piece of pink construction paper,”

Mrs. Adams said. “It flew off when she twirled. She could have picked that up in here.”

Everyone looked around and grunted in agreement.

“All right then,”

Mr. Fitzwilliam said, eyeing a paper in his hands. “Wilson and Alison called it. You can collect your winnings after class.”

“For the record,”

Wilson said as I climbed onto the stool beside him. “I was hoping I’d lose. I’ve been rooting for you kids since I brought you to class last year.”

“Same Wilson,”

I confided quietly. There was no shame between us. The man snuck me condoms when I started dating my first boyfriend in high school. Not that I needed them then, but I sure wish I had a use for a box now. If it was up to me, Theo and I would have been naked and sweaty on the art tables after the first class. OK, maybe not that soon. But at least by Groundhog Day. I’d been walking around in a turned-on stupor for the last twelve months with only my vibrator for relief.

“OK.”

Theo clapped his hands, snapping everyone’s attention to him. “Let’s start with you, Mrs. Adams, since you’re new to the class.”

“Call me Alison, hon.”

“All right, Ms. Alison, would you like to come up front and show us your sketches?”

I loved how Theo refused to drop the Ms. every time a member of the Fan Club asked him to use their first names. I took some comfort in the fact he didn’t call me Ms. Poppy. He might not want to date me, but at least he didn’t lump me in with the retirees.

Mrs. Adams picked up two sheets of paper and clutched them to her chest as she stood before then class. “I like to doodle flowers when I talk on the phone with my daughter, so I guess I’m best at those,”

she said and nervously held up the first sheet. She’d filled the page with decent renderings of all the blooms in her flowerbeds but without any dimension or shading. “I’m terrible at drawing people,”

she said flashing the second sheet with a stick figure sporting a potato head and a crooked smile. It was cute in a minimalist way. I felt the corners of my lips tug up, but quickly forced them down. I didn’t want Mrs. Adams, who had never asked me to call her Alison in the twenty-three years I’d lived next door, to think I was laughing at her.

“That’s wonderful,”

Mr. Fitzwilliam shouted and clapped. Mrs. Adams blushed and hurried back to her stool.

“Better be quick,”

Wilson said, shoving an open sketch pad in front of me. I stared at the blank page and shook my head. Wilson tapped his finger on the paper. “Do you want Alison thinking you’re too good for your own assignment?”

I groaned. I’d never hear the end of it from Mrs. Adams if I didn’t sketch something. I could do this. I’d been drawing since I could hold a pencil. Besides, maybe the block was only with clay.

I grabbed the charcoal Wilson rolled to me and got to work. My hand made quick slashes on the pages while everyone presented their sketches. I didn’t think; I just drew. Based on the giggles, Mr. Fitzwilliam and Millie both presented penises.

“Great work, everyone,”

Theo said after Wilson showed his drawings.

“Don’t forget Poppy,”

Wilson said and winked at me.

I rose from my stool and ignored the smirk he gave me as we passed each other. I totally could have gotten away without doing the assignment. Theo smiled as I neared and my stomach did that weird flip thing again.

“Well, here’s a drawing of Rowan,”

I said holding up the first sheet. “I look at her all the time, so I think I captured her face and expression pretty well.”

“Beautiful,”

Mr. Fitzwilliam shouted. I couldn’t help but like the guy, even if I’d had to dig through the trash a couple times at Karma to rescue his dentures. Twill and Theo’s Fan Club smiled and nodded.

“You need to frame that for your mother,”

Mrs. Adams said. “She just got Rowan home and now she’s moving again.”

“Down the street, Alison,”

Twill snapped. “Rose will see her every day.”

“Ignore him, Poppy,”

Millie said. “Put it in a frame and give it to her. She’ll cry like a baby.”

I wasn’t sure I wanted to make Mom sob, but I nodded. “And this one,”

I said, glancing down at the second piece of paper, suddenly nervous. “Well, I guess it’s my dad.”

I held up the portrait of a man with a blurred face. I’d drawn the eyes, nose, and mouth, but then smudged the charcoal with my finger.

Mrs. Adams pressed her hand to her heart and someone sniffed.

I shrugged. “We have pictures, of course, but I can never get his face quite right.”

“They’re both excellent, Poppy,”

Theo said after a long pause. “Better than anything I could do.”

“So why are you teaching the class?”

Twill shouted.

“Because he’s a hell of a lot nicer than me,”

I snapped and glared at him. Theo’s Fan Club all swiveled in their stools and did the same.

Theo smiled at me and I shot off for my seat before I humped the teacher like a demented rabbit, giving Twill an extra-long glare on the way.