House For All Seasons by Jenn J. McLeod

Author:Jenn J. McLeod
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Wild Myrtle Press

25

‘Good morning.’ Max smiled down, the worry in his eyes rousing Poppy’s memories of last night.

‘It’s late,’ she said, massaging her temple with the heel of one hand.

‘I let you sleep. You had a tough night.’

‘About that.’ Poppy grabbed the tail of Max’s shirt. It was the striped business shirt she hated. ‘My dad was⁠—’

‘In an accident. He died.’

‘I wasn’t asking a question, Max,’ Poppy retorted, throwing the blanket off her legs with gusto. ‘I’m telling you. I didn’t dream it. Dad was here. I don’t know how, but he was.’ As Max opened his mouth to speak, she raised a hand. ‘Tell me it’s not possible and I’ll tell you I felt him. And the things he said …’ Poppy rubbed her cheeks dry, but not before tears dripped from her chin to the sheet. ‘I’ve been desperate to hear him say he’s proud of me. I have to believe he was here, and he said those words. And you, my friend, need to believe me—or at least believe it wasn’t the pills. I wouldn’t lie to you about those. I wouldn’t let you down.’

Max perched on the edge of the mattress, looking like a big circus bear on a very small stool. He smiled, ran a gentle finger across Poppy’s fringe, and intercepted a tear on each cheek. ‘I believe you saw what you needed. You now need a shower, some food, and a few litres of water.’

‘Don’t trivialise this, Max. I don’t need you to look after me. And I’m sorry for making you come all the way out here.’

He grinned while picking up her mobile phone from the bedside table. ‘Remind me to explain the fundamentals of mobile communications with you one day, Popsicle. Amazing things, these gadgets. Even better when turned on. Besides, I’ve been checking out this mysterious place of yours. While you were sleeping, I walked. The house needs work, but there’s potential.’

‘Did you see any signs of Eli on your walk?’ Poppy asked.

‘Who’s Eli?’

‘The caretaker. He’s staying in the cottage down the hill.’

Confusion reshaped Max’s expression into a half-smile. ‘You mean that dilapidated cabin held together by cobwebs? Nope.’ He shook his head. ‘Wouldn’t expect to see signs of life. Only signs of life I saw were eight-legged residents and rodents. I’d suggest no one has occupied that dump for a decade.’

‘Dump is a bit harsh,’ she said defensively. ‘In case the dirt roads didn’t give it away, this is a country house in the country and not the shiny, sterilised skyscraper you call home.’

‘And she’s back! There’s my Poppy Hamilton, always arguing the point. Feeling better, are we? Better still after you drink this.’

Poppy observed the man stirring her coffee; the man she’d once joked about with Kristen as being born in a business shirt and suit, spit-polished shoes coming out feet first. This morning, sitting in this room painted pink, in jeans rather than a suit, unshaven and dishevelled, Max looked soft, comfy—stable.

‘Coffee’s good, Max, but I’ll feel better believing Johnno was here and proud of me.

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