The Last Waltz

Chapter 15

Poppy's mother called, which put her behind, so everyone was already seated when she arrived in the dining room.

"I'm sorry I'm late. My mother called," Poppy excused herself as she sat to Isaac's left with a friendly smile.

No one commented as she got settled. The first course was relatively quiet as they ate. Only the occasional comment was made about the food and weather.

"Poppy Steven's, isn't it?" Chester Glenn asked.

"No, it's Poppy Harrison now," Poppy corrected as she held up her hand and showed off her rings.

Chester's face grew red at her answer.

"How old are you, Poppy," Siobhan asked, covering for her father's sudden anger at what he felt was Poppy's impertinence.

"I'm twenty-seven." Poppy offered freely.

"That's fourteen years between you and Isaac. Aren't you worried about being married to such an older man? Whatever do you have in common?" Siobhan asked, shooting Isaac a look that left no one any doubt that she thought Isaac was in the prime of his life and they had plenty in common.

Poppy opened her mouth to say something inappropriate in true Stevens style, but Isaac cleared his throat, catching her eyes with his, warning her before she could. He didn't know her that well yet, did he?

"Tell us about your family, Poppy," Glynda insisted.

"My mother, father, and sister are in my immediate family." She offered vaguely.

"Siobhan tells us you are very good with accents." Chester tried again.

"Yes. I have an ear for them," Poppy tasted her soup.

"Perhaps you can give us a demonstration? Chester asked.

"All right," Poppy set her spoon down and blotted her mouth. "Would you prefer an English accent?" she asked in a perfect English accent. "I spent a lot of time in England as a child and picked it up there, or perhaps," she offered, slipping into a perfect Scotts cadence, "you would prefer a Scottish accent; it's one of my favorites, and I've had a chance to develop it recently."

"Where in England did you spend your time as a child," Siobhan asked.

"Mostly London, but my family has a home in Kent. I also attended the Royal College of Art and Oxford." Poppy was getting the third degree and looked from Boyd to Isaac to see if they would stop it anytime soon.

"It's best just to get it over with," Isaac said, leaning over and whispering in her ear, disguised it with a kiss to her cheek that could have been given in pride, which gave Poppy goosebumps.

"What do your parents do?" Glynda asked as she looked lovingly at Peter and brushed his hair away from his forehead.

"My father is an actor, my mother is a singer, my sister is a nurse, and I am an artist." This time, she gave more than she needed to, hoping to head off the questions. "What about you, Chester and Glynda? What do you do?"

"I don't work, dear," Glynda said in a tone as she looked down her nose at Poppy. "Chester works at his family's brokerage firm."

"And you, Siobhan? What do you do for a living?" Poppy looked at the woman as she watched Poppy with narrowed eyes. She hadn't liked Isaac's casual kiss.

"I work in the firm with my father." She took a sip of her wine.

This was turning into its own unique form of torture, and Poppy wanted out or at least a save.

"And you can sing?" Peter chimed in as he looked adoringly at Poppy.

"No, not compared to my mother or sister. They have beautiful voices. I can only carry a tune." Poppy smiled at him and shook her head.