Chapter 1

Poppy

Poppy groaned as she heard the front door of her apartment slam open. She knew immediately it was her mother stumbling in semi-hammered from a late night at the clubs with her ‘friends.’ Pulling herself out of bed like the responsible daughter she was, fourteen year old Poppy made her way into the open living room/ kitchen.

 “Hi mom,” she mumbled crossing her hands over her chest. She stared down at her mother, who was currently struggling to pull off her heals in the darkness of the room.

Grace looked up at her daughter and gave her a sloppy smile. “Shouldn’t you be asleep? You have school in the morning.” She slurred every single word so that they were almost unrecognizable, the only reason Poppy had any idea what she said was because she had dealt with her mother’s drunken antics enough to know what she was saying.

Sighing Poppy made her way to her mother’s side and helped her take off her black velvet pumps.

“Thank you baby,” Grace mumbled leaning back into the couch. “You know you are the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Yeah mom,” Poppy sighed. Grace was always over emotional when she drank. Compliments always just spewed from her mouth. Once she finished removing her shoes and sat beside her mother on the couch. She looked into her mother’s eyes and knew in that instant that something was off. The look in her eyes wasn’t just a drunk one. There was a hint of something else there. “Mom what did you take?”

“Poppy…The girls and I were just having some fun.” She gave her daughter a small devilish smile. “I’m the mom you don’t need to worry about me. Go back to sleep baby.”

Yeah you’re the mom, Poppy thought rolling her eyes. “Mom what did you take? Do I need to call an ambulance?” Poppy got up and turned the lights on, to which her mother squinted and shrieked and protested. Poppy looked into her mother’s eyes and tried to determine whether or not she thought the woman was okay to go to sleep without medical attention.

 Looking the woman over, it still amazed Poppy she had managed to come from something so beautiful. At the age of thirty-one, Grace still looked like she was in her early to mid-twenties. The abuse she suffered her body through seemed to have no effect on her. Even in her shambly state the ex- model was beautiful. Her long black hair, enhanced by extensions, cascaded down past her shoulders to mid back, in loose curls that were currently falling out. Her skin was a deep brown, the color of chocolate that glistened from health. Her lips were thick, while not too big at the same time and her nose was small. Her big brown eyes were very expressive and protected by long eyelashes. Her tall and very thin frame was clothed in a plain white tank, loosely tucked into a short, flower patterned, a -line skirt.  I could see the accompanying leather jacket laid out on the floor beside her.

Conceding Poppy turned the light off. “Mom what did you take? I know you’re okay… I just need to know…”

Groaning Grace frowned and mumbled, “we did a couple lines with these guys at the club… Don’t be mad Pops. I just wanted to have some fun, you know.”

“Yeah mom… I know.” Poppy sighed once again, she returned to her seat next to her mother.

“You know baby,” Grace smiled wrapping her hands around her child. “You remind me of me around your age before… you know…” A grimace disfigured Grace’s beautiful face and she paused before finally continuing her slurring. “I loved him, you know. I loved him too much, even”

Poppy knew immediately who she was talking about. These drunken times were the only times Grace ever mentioned Poppy’s father, whoever he was.

Grace’s eyes glazed over as she spoke. “I was just too young. I was too young for his world, and for what we had. I mean I was only fourteen when we started talking and seventeen when I had you…We were too different…  It was too much. I just I-“ Her eyes appeared to clear. Shaking her head she looked up at Poppy. “Don’t you have to go to school tomorrow?”

Frowning the fourteen year old nodded. “Okay mom. I’m gonna go to sleep. Tell me if you need anything else.” Poppy turned and made her way back into her room. Now that she was sure her mother was okay, she could go to sleep and feel okay about it.

Tucking herself into bed, Poppy frowned. It did bother her sometimes that she felt that she had to be the mother to her own mother, but she knew that Grace had been messed up somewhere along the line, before she had ever entered the picture. She knew that whoever her father was had really changed the young teenager in ways that Poppy could and would never understand.

“Ready,” Grace questioned her daughter. They were both running late, Grace for work and Poppy for school. The two usually walked part of the way to their respective places together.

“Yeah,” Poppy mumbled quietly. She pulled at her red plaid uniform skirt. It was getting short. Most girls in school purposely used their old skirts so that they would get small and short, but Poppy hated it. She got a new one every year and because of her long legs it would continue to look way too short on her tall body.

“Let’s go.” Grace grabbed her large purse and made her way out the door and Poppy followed behind pulling her backpack onto her shoulders.  Once outside Grace pulled on large sunglasses, obviously because of the massive hangover she must have been suffering from. The sunlight really illuminated just how bad Grace looked. She had a frown on her lips and her hair piled onto the top of her head; she was in jeans, a t-shirt, and the same leather jacket from yesterday. This was a dressed down look for her, something she had obviously just pulled on without any thought.

“Baby what have I told you about your hair. You can’t just wake up and toss it around; you have to do something with it.” Grace turned to Poppy and began to pat at her loosely curled natural hair. Digging into her bag, Grace pulled out a headband and pushed it onto Poppy’s head. Just as she finished and began to admire her handy work, a body came running into Grace’s side, knocking her over onto the sidewalk.

Before she could even stop herself a waterfall of profanities spilled from her mouth. Grace was not someone to mess with in her hung-over state. She began to pick up all the things that had fallen out of her giant purse and place them back in it. The man that had knocked her over helped, which she begrudgingly appreciated. As the last few items were collected, she turned to the offender, ready to yell at him for his offenses, but rather she stopped herself because she was met with a familiar set of eyes and her jaw dropped.

“Gracie,” smiled the offender. He stood up and proceeded to help Grace up as well.

She pulled her sunglasses up off of her eyes and attempted to close her mouth. “Porter.” She let her eyes quickly drift to Poppy, who was standing silently watching the entire encounter.

“It’s been a long time…” He ran a hand through his now short hair.

“Yeah,” Grace mumbled.

“You look exactly the same. You haven’t aged a bit.”

Grace smiled. She had no idea how to reply to that. “Neither have you.”

Porter laughed a familiar sound to Grace.  “Yes I have… Sorry for running into you and…” His eyes wandered to Poppy. He squinted them and cocked his head to the side. “… Your daughter?”

Grace offered no answers and just pursed her lips in reply. “It’s fine Porter.”

 He didn’t take his eyes off of Poppy. He turned to her, said, “Hi I’m Porter Taylor. I’m a good friend of your moms,” and stuck out his hand for a shake.

Poppy’s eyes went big. Porter Taylor needed no introduction. He was front man to a very successful 90s grunge band, Emporium, turned actor, as well as a member of the very famous Taylor family, a lineage of great actors and actresses. Instead of yelling all of that in awe, Poppy took his hand and shook. “I’m Poppy Madison.”

“Well Porter, Poppy is going to be late for class if we don’t leave soon.” Grace plastered a smile on her face and tried to pull his attention away from Poppy.

Porter nodded looking back up at Grace. “Alright… but just give me your number. We should really find time to catch up.”

Grace stuttered for a few seconds trying to come up with a good excuse. Feeling the pressure of being late as well as not being able to come up with a believable excuse, she agreed and gave him her number, which he promptly entered into his cellphone. Smiling once more, they said their goodbyes and Grace pushed Poppy in the opposite direction of him. “I’ll be in touch,” he yelled back at them before also walking away.

“Mom you never told me you knew Porter Taylor,” Poppy cried amazed that she had just met an American legend.

“It never came up,” Grace answered quickly. “So how many more tardies before you get a detention?” She tried to change the subject. Poppy knew what she was doing, but just went along with it anyway. It wasn’t worth trying to get Grace to open up, especially during a hangover, in public, or when she was sober. Poppy simply answered the question, but still questioned the events of the day in the back of her mind.

Grace

The text came only an hour later. She ignored it for several hours before finally deciding to look at it. Grace sat at her office desk, going through the girls her agency represented, trying to figure out who met the requirements of the client and just as she finished up, she picked up her phone and looked at the message.

Do we need to talk?

Annoyed Grace pretended she had no idea what he was talking about.

What do you mean?

It wasn’t even a minute later when she received a reply.

You know what about… Was that girl you were with your daughter? How old is she?

Not knowing how to respond to his blunt messages, Grace put her phone away and tried to push his words to the back of her mind. She couldn’t though, the entire day she was distracted. Every few minutes she would think back to what he had asked her and wonder what she would say. She couldn’t exactly ignore him all day.

Once at home Grace was met by the sight of Nicole, Poppy’s best friend since elementary school, sitting on their family room couch eating out of a bag of chips. Poppy sat beside her friend and was telling her a very expressive story about how Porter Taylor had run into the two of them.

“And he like knew my mom. He asked for her number and everything.” Poppy smiled and looked up at her mother. “How do you know him again?”

“Just through the business,” Grace said distantly thinking back to his last text.

“I’m literally so jealous,” cried Nicole. “Porter Taylor is so hot.”

“Nicole he’s old! Like a good amount older than my mom even.” Poppy grimaced at the thought. The man was even older than her mother. “And he’s married and to a very beautiful socialite.”

Grace walked into the connected kitchen and threw her purse on the island. She searched her bag for her cell phone and pulled it out. Looking through it, she saw she had a missed call from her mom, a text from Poppy telling her Nicole was coming over, and the text from Porter sat unanswered. Still trying to avoid the issue, Grace looked up at her daughter, “what do you want for dinner… Chinese, Indian, pizza?”

“Indian,” Poppy cried out in response. “Can Nicole stay for dinner?”

“Yeah, sure baby…” Grace said distantly. She quickly called in and ordered their favorite meal adding a little extra food for Nicole. “Babe,” Grace said to Poppy, “I’m leaving money and tip here for the delivery man. When he comes pay him; I’m going to go finish up some work and I’ll eat the leftovers okay.” Poppy distantly agreed, before continuing her conversation with Nicole.

Packing up all of her things, Grace headed to her room and shut the door, blocking out the sounds of the blaring tv and the girl’s laughter.

Looking around, she groaned at the pig sty she had managed to create last night. She was embarrassed. She knew she was way too old to be going out and doing the things she did. She had a teenage daughter, but for some reason she couldn’t control herself and her friends, who she knew were stupid, didn’t help.

Pushing aside the mess, she made her way to the far side of her closet. She knocked some clothes out of the corner and pulled out what looked to be a beautiful silver jewelry box. She took it with her out of the closet and sat on her bed Indiana style. Setting the box down, she wiped away at some of the dust covering the top. Running her hands along the top, she fingered the gold engraving that said: “… to my love…” before lifting the hatch and opening up the box.

Inside were piles of paper all neatly folded and squished tightly into the box. Slowly Grace pulled one out and unraveled it.

I know it’s wrong, I really do, I just can’t get you out of my mind. Ever since I met you, you are all I think about and it’s driving me crazy, because I can’t have you. What are you doing to me?

She folded that one back up and placed it back into the box and pulled out another one. A tear dripped from her eye.

I miss the sound of your voice and the way you feel wrapped in my arms. I miss always knowing you were just a few steps away.  The distance between us is killing me. I feel alone without the feel of your body next to mine. I think about you when I’m performing, when I’m eating, and when I’m dreaming. You’re all I think about and I couldn’t stop myself even if I wanted to.

Tears dripped from Grace’s eyes onto the page, prompting her to fold it back up and replace it into the box. Testing her luck one more time she pulled out another one.

I’ve hurt you and I hate myself for it…

Shivers ran down her spine. Without even reading the entire note, she placed it back into the box. She knew what it was about and the old memories from the past flooded back into her mind and body. She was going into her dark place. The letters always did this to her, but she still insisted on reading them a couple nights per week. She was addicted to them. Addicted to the pain and joy they brought her.

A ding resounded through the room, alerting Grace to the fact that she had just received a text. Pulling out her phone, she saw a text from one of her best friends Kelsey.

The gangs all heading to the bars. U in?

Grace tried to resist. She knew it was wrong. She knew she was a horrible mother to her daughter. She hated that Poppy had to take care of her or that she even had to worry about what her mother was doing. It was just so hard for Grace because she had never really gotten her own childhood and by the time she had gotten pregnant, she had already been so damaged by her relationship.

Grace had an entire excuse typed out on her iphone, but just as she was about to hit send, she caught a glimpse of her jewelry box. All of the old memories came rushing back. She needed to numb the pain and didn’t care how. Erasing her message, she typed back: Yeah sounds great. Be over in 10.

Getting up, she changed into a fashionable outfit and pulled out her hidden bottle of whiskey (if she didn’t hide it Poppy would throw it away) and took a few shots. Once she was fully ready, which she completed in record time, she looked over at the box once again. Everything in her wanted to whip the box across the room and throw it out, but a stronger part of her willed her to carefully pick it up and put it back into its hiding spot.

Picking up her bag, she headed to the front door.

“Where are you going mom,” Poppy questioned, a look of worry already passing over her face.

“Out with the girls,” Grace said trying to act as casual as she could. She hated the look she saw in her child’s eyes. “I’ll be back home tonight, don’t wait up. Money for the food, when it gets here, is on the counter. ”

Poppy nodded with a frown on her face. “Aren’t you going to eat?”

“I’m fine babe. I had a huge lunch. I love you babe,” she lied blowing Poppy a kiss from the door. She could already feel the alcohol. “And bye Nicole. Tell your mom I say hi when you see her.”

“Love you too mom,” Grace heard Poppy mumble as she shut the door.