The Last Waltz

Chapter 8

Poppy sat in her favorite chair, watching a massive thunderstorm light up the sky. She had nothing on her mind for the second day in a row but Isaac's proposal. Was she crazy to even consider it? She barely knew the man or any of them. When someone in her family married, it was for keeps. It wasn't a business deal.

Something deep in her gut was telling her it was the right thing to do, and it was where her future lay, but did it? Was it just her tender heart wanting to help? She was 27 years old and had never had a serious relationship, and she didn't see one in her foreseeable future.

Of course, if she did agree to marry Isaac, she would have to tell her family she had married for love. The thought of being in love with Isaac gave her butterflies in her stomach. Did that mean she was in love with him? She couldn't be; she barely knew the man, and he didn't like her.

She wished she had someone to talk to and confide in about it. She didn't like the idea of lying to her family either.

What would she tell her parents when they divorced? She would be the only one in her family to divorce.

Poppy missed the first knock on her door because of the thunder, but she heard the second. Who would come to visit on a night like this one?

Isaac, that's who, she thought as she moved to open the door.

"Aren't you even going to ask who it is?" He grumbled at her as he moved past her into the dry house.

"You're the only one crazy enough to visit on a night like this one," Poppy said as she handed him a kitchen towel to dry his beard and face. Then she watched as he took off his jacket and boots, parking them by the door. "Would you like some coffee or tea?" she asked.

"No, thank you." He shook his head. "I thought I would come and talk with you. I thought you might have concerns or questions and might not have anyone to discuss them with."

It was very sensitive of him, and Poppy wasn't expecting it.

She led the way into her living room and offered to turn on a light.

"It's not necessary," he said as she sat in a large chair across from her. "How old are you, Poppy?"

"I'm 27," she informed him as she watched his shoulders relax. His face never gave much away, but his body language was easy to read. "Were you worried that I was younger than that and you were taking advantage of my youth?"

"Yes, you look so young." Poppy watched a muscle jump in his jaw.

"How old are you?" she asked in return.

"I'm 41. Is that too old for you? Would your family object, do you think?" He leaned back into his seat, doing his best to appear relaxed, but Poppy could tell he was far from it.

"No, there are quite a few marriages with large age differences in my family. It's not uncommon for us. However, marrying for convenience is a new one, and not something that I think they would approve of, and I'm not keen on being the only one in my family to divorce." Poppy curled her feet under her and rested her chin on her hand as she studied him. He was so very handsome, and not for the first time she wondered about his past. His relationships.

"What! Has no one in your family been divorced? Didn't you say you had six aunts?" Poppy smiled at his shock.

"Yes, my grandparents were married until death and had seven children, all still married. There are six cousins, and only three of us are unmarried, but the married ones are happy." Poppy took a deep breath. "What about sex?" she asked.

She had worried about it but hadn't had the guts to face and think about it.

"What about it?" he asked slowly.