She watched as his jaw tensed, and she could see he wanted to say, “No, we have to go now,” but instead, he took her keys, opened her door, and assisted her into the house.
When they got to the bedroom door, he stopped just outside. “I’ll be right here if you need me.”
She entered and flipped on the light. It was so bright, causing her to wince. In doing so, she lowered her hand from her head, and blood immediately began to flow again, so she quickly replaced it. Maybe it was a good idea she was getting it checked out. As she reapplied the pressure to the wound, she began counting the beats of her own heart, then reached for her phone to check the time. Just past midnight. She tried to tally the minutes since her last clear memory, but they slid around like spilled water.
She took a breath, then another. The pain in her head was dull but insistent, like a neighbor pounding on the wall. She stood staring at the mirror, and two words sprang to mind. Hot. Mess. Her dress was stained red. Her hair was piled on top of her head like a bird’s nest. There were dark circles beneath her eyes from mascara and eyeliner that had run. Her lipstick had worn off hours ago. She looked like a zombie.
Keeping one hand pressed firmly to her head, she twisted her other arm behind her back. Her fingertips grazed the tip of the zipper. She contorted her body, desperately attempting to grab onto the silver tab so that she could tug it down, but after ten to fifteen futile seconds, she knew it was impossible.
“AJ ca?—”
She hadn’t even gotten the second word out before the door flung open and he was inside the room. His eyes scanned her up and down, his ocular assessment was filled with genuine worry. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I just…” She turned around, her hand still trying to grasp at the zipper. “…I can’t reach it.”
Her back was to him, but she could see his reflection in the mirror, and what she saw was visible relief when he exhaled. His obvious concern made her feel all sorts of emotions she wasn’t quite sure how to deal with.
Poppy was so used to being alone and figuring things out on her own. As an only child of a single mom who worked several jobs, she’d mastered the art of self-reliance early. Forgotten lunch? She’d improvise by eating scraps kids didn’t finish. Missed the bus? She’d walk five miles in hand-me-down sneakers. Any time she got sick or scraped up at school, she’d had to tough it out in the nurse’s office, waiting for the day to end so she could drag herself home. There was no cavalry, never had been. Even theideaof being rescued was faintly embarrassing.
Having someone rush in, clearly wanting, andneedingto help her, was disconcerting but also…nice.
Without speaking, AJ closed the gap between them and reached for the zipper. His hands were calm and steady, and the heat of his palm as it settled between her shoulder blades made her shiver. He slid the zipper down with one slow, measured pull, careful not to jostle her too much. The gesture was so simple and so kind that for a second, she wanted to cry. The dress slid down her legs, and he steadied her as she stepped out of the puddle of fabric at her feet.
“Which drawer are your sweats?—”
“Middle right,” she instructed.
He opened it, one hand still on her arm supporting her. “Grey, blue, or black?”
“Black.”
After pulling them out, he turned back to her, and she rested her free hand on his shoulder as she stepped into them. He then asked what shirt she’d like. They managed to get that on with a game of pass-the-baton hold-the-handkerchief-to-the-head-wound. He kept pressure on it while she slid her arm through thesleeve. He grabbed the matching zip-up hoodie for her, then told her to sit on the bed while he put on her socks and tennis shoes. On the way out he also grabbed some snacks from her cupboards and two waters for her without her needing to ask.
Within five minutes, they were back in his SUV. The drive to Pine Ridge ER happened in a bubble, with cold mountain air outside the SUV, the heater chugging at Poppy’s feet, and AJ’s silent focus on the winding, midnight-black roadway between towns. A mild headache throbbed at her temples, she could already feel the blood drying sticky in her hair. She was acutely aware of her own body, the warmth of AJ’s handkerchief cinched to her scalp, the band of her zippered hoodie pressing tight to her neck, and the clammy aftertaste of adrenaline and embarrassment. She was equally aware of AJ checking the rearview, stealing side glances at her, and keeping one hand always near her in the center console, as if she might topple over at any moment.
At the halfway point, she got a text. She pulled out her phone and saw it was from her mom.
Mom:Just got home safe and sound.
Poppy liked the text and responded with,“Me too.”
“Everything okay?” AJ inquired.
“Just my mom letting me know she’s home.”
“Is she going to meet us there?”
“No,” she snapped. The single syllable cracked the air, and she winced, both at the headache and at herself, she wasn’t sure which throbbed more.
They both remained silent for half a mile, the only sound the tires humming as they cruised into Pine Ridge. AJ didn’t ever have strong reactions, or really any reactions to things, but she noticed his look of surprise at her response. If she were being honest, her reaction had caught her off guard as well.
She could see from the outside looking in how ridiculous her behavior was. Not just the snapping but how hot and cold she’d been with AJ. In therapy, which she’d started eighteen months ago, Dr. Basil had called it “preemptive abandonment.” She’d laughed at the time, but now she couldn’t stop seeing it.
“She’ll make a big deal about it, and it’s nothing.” Even as Poppy heard herself tell AJ her reasoning for not telling her mom where she was headed, she knew it was a lie.
Her therapy may have started because she was stressed about fertility, but it had resulted in her discovering a lot about herself. One of those self-discoveries was that she punished her mom by withholding parts of her life from her as an adult.
As a child she’d wanted andneededher mom so badly, and she’d felt abandoned. After Michael Davies died, her mom changed. She started being the mom Poppy always wanted. Kerri apologized for not being there the way she should have, and Poppy said she forgave her. But those were just words, thetruthcame out in petty ways, like not telling her mom she’d had an accident and was heading to the ER, which was something she was sure she’d want to know.
