The Last Waltz

Chapter 7

Poppy leaned against the door to Mary's bedroom and took a deep breath. That had been tough. Mary was a pre-teen girl, turning into a woman without a mother. She was lonely, scared and confused. There had been a lot of tears and hugging and then some bonding over chocolate. Poppy hoped she had said and done all the correct things, but she wasn't sure she had.

"Poppy," Peter whispered from the other end of the vast hall and waved her over. He was wearing his pajamas, and it was evident that he had already been put to bed.

With a smile, Poppy joined him, and he invited her into his room to look at all his stuff. The boy was a dinosaur lover with a little superhero action thrown in for good measure. They talked about villains for a few minutes, totally disagreeing, and when Peter paused, she thought she had upset him.

"Is Mary going to be alright?" His voice was soft. "I heard she was bleeding."

Poppy knelt in front of him. "She is going to be alright. What she's going through is something all of us girls go through at her age. I did, my sister did, your mother did. Mary was confused and needed someone to talk to because she was embarrassed."

"And she talked to you?" he asked as his brown eyes, which were so much like his uncle's, met hers.

"She did, and we talked about your mom and dad too. They sound like they were pretty awesome parents."

Peter grinned. "They were." Then he started talking, and as the floodgates opened, Poppy tucked him into bed, letting him remember all he could until his eyes grew heavy, and he drifted off to sleep.

When he was out, Poppy turned out his light and quietly left his room, closing the door behind her. Then, slowly, she made her way down the massive staircase, her mind on Mary and Peter, until she heard a voice coming from one of the massive rooms of the main hall.

"Just ask her. What could it hurt?" Boyd grumbled. "She's the best choice; it might be the only way to keep the children." Poppy's heart lurched at the thought of Isaac losing the children.

"There's no way she would consider it," Isaac's deep voice responded.

"And who's fault is that?" Boyd asked.

Poppy slowly moved toward the voices and stood in the doorway.

"And what would she get out of it that might convince her to do it?" Isaac asked, unaware that she was standing in the doorway to the massive room.

"Who are you trying to convince of what?" Poppy asked as both men swung around and looked at her. Boyd looked guilty, and Isaac's face was a mask.

"How is Mary?" Boyd asked, motioning for her to sit in a massive armchair. "Can I get you a drink?"

"No, thank you. Mary's fine. She's scared, confused, and misses her mom," Poppy said as she sat on the edge of the chair. She couldn't sit all the way back because her feet wouldn't have touched the ground, and that would have embarrassed her.

Boyd nodded his head. "And Peter? I heard you talking with him, too," Boyd asked.

Poppy looked at Isaac, noting that he was watching her closely. 

"He misses his parents and was scared for Mary, so I told him everything was going to be alright, then let him talk about his parents until he fell asleep."

Boyd nodded. "He needs to talk about them often so he remembers them. He's so young that if he doesn't, their memory will fade." Boyd looked at Isaac, and it was apparent that he was remembering when Isaac and his sister had come to him after the death of their parents.

"I hope I said the right thing to Mary. When I went through my first period, it was a family affair. I had my grandmother, six aunts, and my mother all giving me advice." Poppy smiled at the memory. Thankfully, it was the one time her father had tactfully disappeared.