I smiled at his grouchiness. Rune dropped to the chair overlooking the water, and I sat in the seat opposite. But as soon as I sat down, Rune reached around and gripped the arm of my chair. I shrieked as he pulled on the chair, dragging it toward him. I jerked in the seat as it moved, clutching on to the arms until he’d repositioned it.
Repositioned it, next to him.
Right beside him, so my chair now overlooked the creek too.
Rune didn’t react to the slight blush on my cheeks, as my insides warmed at this simple gesture. In fact, he didn’t even seem to notice. He was too busy retaking possession of my hand. Too busy locking our fingers in place. Too busy never letting me go.
Reaching forward, Rune adjusted the heater above us to its highest setting, only relaxing back in his chair when the flames roared higher behind their iron guard. My heart melted when he brought our joined hands to his mouth, the back of my hand brushing back and forth over his lips in a hypnotic motion.
Rune’s eyes were fixed on the water. Even though I adored the trees embracing the water in a protective cocoon, as much as I loved to watch the ducks dip and dive, the cranes swoop and soar above the surface, I could only watch Rune.
Something had changed in him from last night. I didn’t know what. He was still abrupt and surly. There was darkness in his personality; his aura warned almost all to stay well clear.
But now there was a new edge of possession with regard to me. I could see the fierceness of that possession in his stare. I could feel it in his grip on my hand.
And I liked it.
As much as I missed the Rune I knew, I watched this Rune with renewed fascination. Right now, sitting beside him in a place that meant so much to us both, I was perfectly content to be in the company of this Rune.
More than content.
It made me feel alive.
The server arrived: a guy, maybe in his twenties. Rune’s hold tightened on my hand. My heart swelled.
He was jealous.
“Hey, y’all. Can I get y’all started with some drinks?” the server asked.
“Can I get a sweet tea, please?” I replied, feeling Rune stiffen beside me.
“Root beer,” Rune barked. The server quickly retreated. When he was out of earshot, Rune snapped, “He couldn’t keep his eyes off you.”
I shook my head and laughed. “You’re crazy.”
Rune’s forehead lined with frustration. This time it was his turn to shake his head. “You have no idea.”
“About what?” I asked, moving my free hand to trace a couple of new scars on Rune’s knuckles. I wondered where they were from. I heard his breathing hitch.
“About how beautiful you are,” he replied. He was watching my finger as he said it. When my finger stopped he looked up.
I stared at him, lost for words.
Finally, Rune’s lip hooked at the side into a crooked half-smile. He shifted closer to me. “Still drinking sweet tea, I see.”
He remembered.
Gently nudging his side, I said, “Still on the root beer, I see.”
Rune shrugged. “Can’t get it back in Oslo. Now I’m back, I can’t get enough of the stuff.” I smiled and began re-tracing his hand. “Turns out I can’t get enough of a few things I couldn’t get back in Oslo.”
My finger stopped moving. I knew exactly what he was talking about: me.
“Rune,” I said, the guilt lying thick within me.
I looked up to try and apologize again, but as I did, the server arrived, placing our drinks on the table. “Y’all ready to order?”
Without breaking my gaze, Rune said, “Two crawfish boils.”
I felt the server hanging by, but after a tense few seconds, he said, “I’ll get that to the kitchen then,” and edged away.
Rune’s eyes moved from my face to my ears, where that flicker of a smirk remerged. I wondered what had caused him this moment of happiness. Rune leaned forward, and with the backs of his fingers he pushed the hair from my face, tucking it behind my ear.
His fingertip traced down the outline of my ear, then he let out a comforting sigh. “You still wear them.”
The earrings.
My infinity earrings.
“Always,” I confirmed. Rune looked up at me with heavy eyes. “Forever always.”
Rune dropped his hand, but he caught the ends of my hair between his finger and thumb. “You cut your hair.”
It sounded like a statement, but I knew it was a question.
“My hair grew back,” I said. I saw him stiffen. Not wanting to break tonight’s magic with talk of illness or treatment, things that I paid no mind to anyhow, I leaned in and pressed my forehead to his.
“I lost my hair. Fortunately, hair grows.” Drawing back, I playfully flicked at my bob. “Plus, I kinda like it. I think I suit it. Lord knows it’s easier to handle than the mountain of frizz I fought against all those years.”
I knew it had worked when Rune huffed a single quiet laugh. Continuing the joke, I added, “Plus, only Viking men should wear their hair long. Vikings and bikers.” I scrunched up my nose as I pretended to study Rune. “Unfortunately you don’t have a bike…” I trailed off, laughing at the hard look on Rune’s face.
I was still laughing when he pulled me into his chest and, with his mouth at my ear, said, “I could get a bike, if that’s what you want. If that’s what it would take to win back your love.”
He said it as a joke.
I knew he did.
But it brought me up short. So short that I stilled, the humor draining out of me. Rune noticed the shift. His Adam’s apple bobbed and he swallowed whatever he was going to say.
Letting my heart rule my actions, I lifted my hand and dropped my palm to lie upon his face. Making sure I had his undivided attention, I whispered, “It wouldn’t take a bike to do that, Rune.”
“No?” he questioned, his voice husky.
I shook my head.
“Why?” he asked nervously. Redness blossomed on his cheeks. I could see what that question had cost his heavily fortified pride. I could see that Rune didn’t ask anything anymore.
Closing the gap between us, I said in a hushed voice, “Because I’m pretty sure you never lost it.”
I waited. I waited with bated breath to see what he would do next.
I wasn’t expecting tender and soft. I wasn’t expecting for my heart to sigh and my soul to melt.
Rune, with the most careful of movements, moved forward and kissed me on my cheek, only inching back to drag his lips across mine. I held my breath in anticipation of a kiss on the lips. A real kiss. A kiss I yearned for. But instead, he bypassed my mouth for my other cheek, giving it the kiss my lips longed to gain.
When Rune pulled away, my heart was beating like a drum. A loud bass in my chest. Rune sat back but his hand, in my hand, had tightened a fraction.
A secret smile took refuge behind my lips.
A sound from over the creek pulled my attention—a duck taking flight into the dark sky. When I glanced at Rune, I saw he was watching it too. When he looked my way, I teased, “You’re already a Viking. You don’t need no bike.”
This time Rune smiled. The merest hint of teeth showed through. I beamed with pride.
The server approached, carrying our crawfish, and placed the buckets on the paper-covered table. Rune reluctantly released my hand, and we started ripping into the mountain of seafood. I closed my eyes when I tasted the meaty flesh on my tongue, a burst of lemon hitting my throat.
I groaned at how good it was.
Rune shook his head, laughing at me. I threw a broken bit of shell into his lap and he scowled. Wiping my hand on the napkin, I tipped my head back toward the night sky. The stars were bright in their cloudless blanket of black.
“Have you ever seen anything so beautiful as this little creek?” I asked. Rune looked up, then out along the quiet creek, the reflection of blue-stringed lights twinkling back at us.
“I’d say yes,” he answered in a matter
-of-fact tone, then pointed to me. “But I get what you’re saying. Even when I was back in Oslo, I would sometimes picture this place, wondering if you had been back.”
“No, this is the first time. Mama and Daddy aren’t real big crawfish fans; it was always Mamaw.” I smiled, picturing her sitting beside us at this table, after sneaking us away. “Do you remember,”—I laughed—“she would bring her hipflask full of bourbon with her, to slip into her sweet tea?” I laughed harder. “Do you remember her putting her finger over her lips and saying, ‘Now don’t y’all be telling your folks about this. I had the good grace to bring y’all here, rescuing y’all from church. So no loose lips!’?” Rune was smiling too, but his eyes were watching me laugh.
“You miss her,” he said.
I nodded my head. “Every day. I wonder what other adventures we could have been on together. I often wonder if we would have gone to Italy to see Assisi, just like we talked about. I wonder if we would have gone to Spain, to run with the bulls.” At that thought I laughed again. A peace settled over me, then I added, “But, the best part of all this is I’ll see her again soon.” I met Rune’s eyes. “When I return home.”
Like my mamaw had taught me, I never ever thought of what would happen to me as dying. The end. It was the beginning of something great. My soul would be returning home where it belonged.
I hadn’t realized I had upset Rune, until he rose from his chair to walk along the small pier next to our table, the pier that led to the middle of the creek.
The server came over. I watched Rune light a cigarette as he disappeared into the dark, only a cloud of smoke betraying where he stood.
“Shall I clear up, ma’am?” the server inquired.
I smiled and nodded. “Yes, please.” I stood, and he looked puzzled, seeing Rune on the deck. “Can we have the check as well, please?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied.
I walked out onto the deck to meet Rune, following the tiny speck of his lit cigarette. When I arrived at his side he was leaning over the railing, staring absently at nothing.
A soft crease was marring his forehead. His back was tense; it tensed even more when I stopped beside him. He took in a long drag of his cigarette and released it into the gentle breeze.
“I can’t deny what’s happening to me, Rune,” I said cautiously. He remained silent. “I can’t live in a fantasy. I know what’s coming. I know how this will go.”
Rune’s breathing was ragged and his head dropped. When he lifted his eyes, he said brokenly, “It’s not fair.”
My heart cried for his pain. I could see it racking his face, see it in the bunching of his muscles. Leaning forward on the railing, I inhaled the cool air. When Rune’s breathing had settled, I said, “It would have been really unfair had we not been gifted the next precious months.”
Rune’s forehead fell slowly to rest upon his hands.
“Don’t you see a bigger picture for us both here, Rune? You came back to Blossom Grove only a few weeks after I had been sent home to live out the rest of my life. To enjoy the limited few months granted by medication.” I looked at the stars again, feeling the presence of something greater smiling down on us. “For you it’s unfair. I believe the opposite. We came back together for a reason. Perhaps it’s a lesson we may struggle to learn until it’s learned.”
I turned and pushed back the long hair covering his face. In the moonlight, underneath the glittering stars, I saw a tear tumble down his cheeks.
I cleared it with a kiss.
Rune turned into me, tucking his head into the crook of my neck. I wrapped my hand around his head, holding him close.
Rune’s back rose with a deep inhale. “I brought you here tonight to remind you of when we were happy. When we were inseparable, best friends and more. But—”
He cut his words off. I gently pushed back his head to look at his face “What?” I asked. “Please, tell me. I promise I’m okay.”
He searched my eyes, then stared across the still water. When his gaze returned to me, he asked, “But what if this is the last time we ever get to do this?”
Pushing myself between him and the railing, I took the cigarette from his hand and threw it into the creek. Standing on my tiptoes, I took both his cheeks in my hands. “Then we had tonight,” I asserted. Rune’s face winced at my words. “We’ve had this memory. We’ve had this cherished moment.” My head tipped to the side and a nostalgic smile pulled on my lips. “I used to know a boy, a boy I loved with my whole heart, who lived for a single moment. Who told me that a single moment could change the world. It could change someone’s life. That one moment could make someone’s life, in that brief second, infinitely better or infinitely worse.”
He closed his eyes, but I continued to speak. “This, tonight, being at this creek with you again,” I said, feeling a sense of peace fill my soul, “remembering my mamaw and why I loved her so much … it has made my life infinitely better. This moment, given to me by you, I will remember always. I will take it with me to … wherever I go.”
Rune’s eyes opened. I pulled him down further. “You gave me tonight. You’ve returned. We can’t change the facts, we can’t change our fates, but we can still live. We can live as hard and as fast as we can while we have these days before us. We can be us again: Poppy and Rune.”
I didn’t think he would say anything in return, so it surprised me and filled me with incredible hope when he said, “Our final adventure.”
The perfect way to phrase it, I thought. “Our final adventure,” I whispered into the night, an unprecedented joy infusing my body. Rune’s arms snaked around my waist. “With one amendment,” I said. Rune frowned.
Smoothing the crease on his forehead, I said, “This life’s final adventure. Because I know, with unwavering faith, that we’ll be together again. Even when this adventure is over, a greater one awaits us on the other side. And Rune, there would be no heaven if you weren’t back in my arms someday.”
All six feet four of Rune Kristiansen braced against me. And I held him. I held him until he calmed. When he pulled back, I asked, “So, Rune Kristiansen, Viking from Norway, are you with me?”
Despite himself, Rune laughed. Laughed when I held out my hand for him to shake. Rune, my Scandinavian bad boy with a face made by the angels, slipped his hand into mine and we shook on our promise. Twice. Like my mamaw taught me.
“I’m with you,” he said. I felt his vow all the way to my toes.
“Ma’am, sir?” I looked over Rune’s shoulder to see the server holding our check. “We’re closing up,” he explained.
“You okay?” I asked Rune, signaling to the server that we were coming.
Rune nodded, his heavy brows pushing his face back into his familiar scowl. I imitated how he looked by scrunching my face. Rune, unable to resist, gave me his good-humored smirk. “Only you,” he said, more to himself than to me, “Poppymin.” Slipping his hand back into mine, he slowly guided me to the front of the shack.
When we were back in the car, Rune turned on the engine and said, “We have one more place to go.”
“Another memorable moment?”
As we pulled out onto the road, Rune took my hand in his across the console and replied, “I hope so, Poppymin. I hope so.”
* * *
It took us a while to drive back to town. We didn’t talk much. I had come to understand that Rune was quieter than he used to be. Not that he was exactly an extrovert before. He was always introverted and quiet. He fit nicely the image of the brooding artist, head always juggling places and landscapes he wanted to capture on film.
Moments.
We had traveled only a mile or so down the road when Rune turned the radio on. He told me to pick any station I wanted. And when I quietly sang, his fingers tightened just that bit more in mine.
A yawn escaped my mouth as we approached the edge of town, but I fought to keep my eyes open. I wanted to know where he was taking me.
When we stopped outside the Dixon T
heater, my pulse took flight. This was the theater I had always dreamed of performing at. It was the theater I had always wanted to return to when I was older, as part of a professional orchestra. To my home town.
Rune cut the engine, and I stared up at the impressive stone theater. “Rune, what are we doing here?”
Rune released my hand and opened his door. “Come with me.”
Frowning, but my heart racing so impossibly hard, I opened my door to follow him. Rune took my hand and led me to the front entrance.
It was late on a Sunday night, but he led us straight through the front doors. As soon as we entered the dim foyer, I heard the faint sounds of Puccini playing in the background.
My hand tightened in Rune’s. He glanced down at me, a smirk on his lips. “Rune,” I whispered, as he led me up the opulent staircase. “Where are we going?”
Rune pressed his finger over my lips, signaling for me to be quiet. I wondered why, but then he led me to a door … the door that led to the dress circle of the theater.
Rune opened the door, and music washed over me like a wave. Gasping at the sheer volume of the sound, I followed Rune to the front row of seats. Down below was an orchestra, their conductor leading them. I recognized them instantly: The Savannah Chamber Orchestra.
I was transfixed, staring at the musicians focusing so intently on their instruments, swaying in time to the beat. Whipping my head to Rune, I asked, “How did you do this?”
Rune shrugged. “I was looking to take you to see them perform properly, but they’re traveling overseas tomorrow. When I explained to the conductor how much you loved them, he said we could drop in on their rehearsal.”
No words passed through my lips.
I was speechless. Completely and utterly speechless.
Failing to adequately express my feelings, my sheer gratitude for this surprise, I laid my head on his shoulder and cuddled into his arm. The smell of leather filled my nose as my eyes focused on the orchestra below.