My heart stops.
“Memorial?” I ask, my voice sharp enough that everyone looks at me.
“Yeah, in the fellowship hall. They went out to the cemetery for a bit, but they’re back now. It’s more of a party than I expected.” He pauses, looking at me. “Why?”
“Did you see—” I can barely get the words out, and words escape me. “A woman, uh, nothewoman who, well, no, she was an intern—” I stop, not knowing how to talk, what to say. “Elf! No. I mean, a short, brown haired, beautiful woman, probably looked like she’d been crying?”
Darren’s brow furrows. “You mean Poppy Lewis? Yeah, that’s who I stopped by to see.”
A weak, sad, hopeful laugh escapes me. “She’s there? How was she?”
“She was talking to a group of older guys. She was smiling. Laughing a little. Her eyes were pretty red, though, so I think she’s been crying a lot.” He looks between us, confused. “You know her?”
“I’m in love with her,” I say, the words coming out as easy as breathing. “Poppy Grace Lewis. I met her on the plane, and we drove together, and I—” My voice cracks. “I messed up. I hurt her, and I need to fix it.”
Darren steps back from the truck to let me out. “You’re in love with Poppy Lewis?” He laughs. “That’s awesome. She’s good people.”
“The best,” I say. Then I reach into the front seat and put a hand on my mom’s shoulder and another on my dad’s. “I gotta go, guys. I’m sorry about the reception.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Mom says, giving me a watery smile. “Don’t let anything hold you back, sweetie. Especially not fear.”
“And forget about your granddad,” Dad says. “I’ve spent thirty years putting his expectations ahead of my kids’ happiness. No more. Go, son.”
At Oak & Ivy, the reception is probably already starting. Evan’s waiting for me. Guests are expecting me. Granddad’s probably already telling people I’m unstable, emotional, just like he always said.
I don’t care.
For the first time in my life, I’m choosing what I want. Who I want.
Poppy Grace Lewis is on the other side of this building, and I’m done wasting time.
“You’re sure she was in the fellowship hall?” I ask Darren, hopping out of the truck and walking backwards.
“Yeah. East entrance, down the stairs. But I don’t know if she’s still there. People were starting to leave.”
“Then I gotta go.”
I start running before anyone can say anything else. Behind me, I hear Darren call out:
“Good luck, man!”
I laugh with every pounding footfall.
Darren Murphy’s wishing me luck.
And I’m gonna need it.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
FLETCH
Isprint through the snow along the sidewalk that runs around the church. My lungs burn from the cold, and my hands are practically numb from getting into an argument with my Granddad outside in the snow, but I feel like I’m on fire.
Poppy Grace is here.
I make it to the far side of the church, where only a few vehicles remain. But I spot an old truck—is there a chance it’s hers? I take the stairs two at a time, and have to catch myself on the railing when I slip and almost fall butt-first back on the ground.
My heart pounds as I grip the railing and pull myself more carefully up. Stupid slick stairs.
