Marrying Daisy Bellamy

by Susan Wiggs

  He thought about that for a minute. “She and this guy—Julian Gastineaux—they were like, totally in love.”

  “What’s your worst fear? That Daisy will leave you for Gastineaux?”

  Logan pressed up again, welcoming the strain of the extra weight. He was about to say no, but he thought about it for a while. In his mind’s eye, he could still see Daisy’s face as she related the miraculous news of Julian’s survival. In that moment, she’d seemed more alive than she had in months.

  He increased his weight load again. Press up. Press down. “My worst fear is that she’ll spend the rest of her life wishing she could be with him.” The admission came from Logan with a wrenching honesty.

  “Then again,” he added, “it’s kind of ironic. Before she dropped the Julian bomb, I was going to tell her maybe being married wasn’t the best thing for us after all.”

  Eddie went to the bench next to Logan and threaded some weights on a bar. After a while, he said, “You’ve been saying some things about your marriage for a long time. Since before Gastineaux showed up again.”

  “Yeah. But now that this has happened—this Julian business—there’s no way to talk about our problems with the marriage.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “If I tell Daisy now, she’ll go running straight to him.”

  “And how would you feel about that?”

  “Like shit, man. How do you think? And what kind of message would it send to Charlie? To bail at the first sign of trouble?”

  “Hell, Logan. You got more questions than me,” said Eddie.

  “And no answers. Not yet, anyway.”

  Every single night of his captivity, Julian had imagined his own homecoming. It was one of the mental exercises he’d done regularly to keep himself from ending up crazier than a shit-house rat. He had developed a habit of picturing the longed-for scene in his mind’s eye down to the last detail. He saw himself getting off the train. He’d be in his BDUs, a duffel bag slung over his shoulder.

  The second he spotted Daisy, the duffel would drop with a thud.

  She would fly into his arms, literally, fly, in a blur of speed. He could feel her slender strong legs clasped at his waist, her arms clinging around his neck. Yes.

  She had the best way of laughing when she got emotional. In his mind, he’d heard that special, broken laughter every day. And he could feel the warm silk of her hair and inhale her scent—fruity shampoo—and taste her mouth as he set her down and bent to kiss her.

  Yeah, without that dream of home, he really might have gone bat-shit insane.

  The reality, his actual homecoming, was different.

  He sat alone on the train on the final leg of his journey. Connor had offered to drive up to the airport at Albany, but Julian opted for the train instead. He wore the civilian clothes they’d given him.

  The staff psychiatrist had advised him not to make any big changes in his life. He was supposed to step back and let the readjustment take its own pace. Julian was pretty sure that would be impossible for him, but he agreed to give it a try.

  The world outside streaked past the window. Albany and its outskirts were dull with industry, strip malls and big-box stores and depressing housing developments. Soon, however, the colors outside shifted to the intense green and gold of the Catskills. The scenery changed to lakes and rivers, neatly laid-out farms and towns, time-worn hills and cliffs rising to the west.

  The approach to Avalon was just as he’d pictured it so many times in his mind. It was nearly dark, but he spotted the covered bridge spanning the river, and Willow Lake in the distance, rimmed by forest land and the occasional cottage.

  The train clanked and hissed to a halt. He shouldered his bag, which still bore its tag—Second Lieutenant J. Gastineaux—and headed outside, feeling the coolness of the upstate wilderness in the breeze on his face. Avalon was an ordinary small town, like so many others all across the country. It looked so damn good to him. So…normal.

  He reminded himself it wouldn’t be the welcome he’d held in his heart for so long. But there was his brother, standing with arms open wide. They came together in a clash of joy, and in the midst of the fierce hug, Julian lost it, choking on sobs. He finally felt completely safe. During his ordeal, he’d forgotten that sensation.

  “I can’t believe it,” Connor said. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

  “Me, neither.” Julian dragged his sleeve across his face. “I thought this day would never come.”

  Connor picked up his bag. “Let’s go home. Lolly’s got a feast prepared. And wait till you see your niece.” They got in the truck and started driving.

  “Zoe was a baby when I left.”

  “Now she’s a little kid with all the answers.”

  Julian remembered Charlie at three, a happy kid, in love with the world. What was he like now?

  “I’m glad she has all the answers,” he said to Connor, “because I got all kinds of questions.”

  “We all do, my brother.”

  “Everything around here looks pretty much the same,” said Julian. “But I know it can’t be.”

  “You still have your friends and family,” Connor assured him. “We were all demolished when you were reported dead. And we never stopped thinking of you and missing you, not for a minute.”

  “I’m—I guess I don’t know what to say to that. Thanks for not forgetting me?”

  “Say anything,” Connor advised him. “You get a free pass.”

  Julian understood that this was an opening for him to start talking about what had happened. In his debriefing, he had been strongly advised to seek further counseling, and he fully intended to do that. For now, he just wanted to be with his brother.

  “I appreciate it,” he said. “One of these days, I’ll take you up on it.”

  “I need to ask you something else about tonight,” Connor said. “About Daisy, actually.”

  Julian flinched at the sound of her name but covered his reaction. “What about her?”

  “First of all, I hated telling you what I told you on the phone.”

  “There’s not really a good way to break news like that,” said Julian. He’d been playing the conversation over and over in his head. Sayers had advised him to take his time digesting the news. What she’d meant was that she didn’t want him to go tearing off in a rage, howling about the injustice of it all.

  And if he was being honest with himself, there was a part of him that was inches from doing just that.

  “I’m glad I called you first,” Julian said. “I’m glad you’re my next of kin.”

  Connor pulled into the driveway. “Speaking of which, have you called our mother?”

  “Not yet. I’ve had enough drama for one day.”

  “Then you’d better brace yourself,” Connor said as they got out of the truck.

  Olivia flew out of the house, her aging mutt, Barkis, at her heels, and flung her arms around him. “Welcome home,” she said, her voice breaking. “Come inside. Are you hungry? I made all your favorites.”

  “That’s not possible,” Julian said. “Everything is my favorite.” They went inside and he greeted his little niece, Zoe. She acted shy, hugging her dad’s leg and peering up at him.

  “I remember you,” Julian said gently, hunkering down to her level. “You used to have a pink blanket you took everywhere.”

  She nodded, offered a smile. “I colored something for you. For a present.” She scurried off to get it. Julian smiled after her. It felt so…normal, being here.

  “Daisy wants to see you,” Olivia said.

  He flinched. “When?”

  “That’s up to you.”

  Best to get it over with sooner rather than later. “See if she can come over after dinner.”

  Following the phone call from her cousin Olivia, Daisy had fixed something for supper. For the life of her, she couldn’t remember what it was. She rinsed the plates, and by the time everything went down the garbage disposal, she’d forgotte
n what she had served.

  Her mind was a million miles away. No, that wasn’t quite right. Her mind was miles away, firmly entrenched at her cousin’s house, where Julian waited.

  “Jeremiah Butler has a gun,” Charlie announced, scooting a toy soldier along the edge of the counter.

  “Is that the name of a song?” asked Logan. Before Charlie could answer, he checked his phone for an incoming text message. His hair was damp from the gym.

  “It’s the name of a kid,” Charlie said. “Jeez.”

  “A kid who has a gun.” With lightning fingers, Logan sent a text back.

  “Yeah, he got it for his birthday.” Charlie’s soldier used a piece of string to rappel down the side of the cabinet. “His dad took him to the shooting gallery.”

  “The…range,” Logan said. “The shooting range.”

  “Can you take me to the shooting range?” Charlie crawled on his belly, commando-style, toward the family room.

  “Maybe,” Logan said. “One of these days.”

  “You always say that,” Charlie pointed out. “Which one of these days?”

  “The one that fits our schedule.”

  “Mom says you make time for what’s important to you,” Charlie informed him.

  Daisy put soap in the dishwasher and straightened up. “I said that?”

  “Yep.”

  “I’m pretty smart. However, I’m not so sure about boys shooting guns.”

  “I knew you’d say that.” Charlie hunkered down and backed into the family room. “Dad.”

  “One of these days,” Logan repeated.

  “Tell you what,” Daisy suggested. “I’ll give you an extra half hour of TV tonight because you did an awesome job cleaning your plate at dinner.”

  Charlie’s eyes widened. “Yes.” He scurried away before she changed her mind. Since his struggles in school had begun, she had restricted him to one hour of TV per day, so extra time was a huge bonus to him.

  Logan went back to texting. She sat down across the table from him.

  “I need to ask you something.”

  “Okay, just a sec.” He finished his message and put down the phone. “Work stuff,” he said. “It never ends.”

  “Julian’s at his brother’s house,” Daisy said baldly, knowing of no way to ease into the topic. “He wants to see me.”

  Logan grabbed a leftover piece of bread from the basket on the table and slathered it with butter. “And?”

  “And I would like to go see him.”

  “When?” Logan bit off a hunk of the bread.

  “Tonight. Like, in the next hour or so.” Every time she thought about the miracle that had happened, her heart nearly flew out of her chest.

  Logan finished chewing and was quiet for a couple of minutes. Daisy forced herself to wait. With every fiber of her being, she wanted to bolt for the door and speed over to Olivia’s house. She wouldn’t, though. She was not the only one enmeshed in this situation. So much was at stake here. There were so many ways for this miraculous occurrence to turn painful.

  “We’ll all go,” Logan said, his chair scraping loudly as he pushed back from the table.

  No. The denial leapt up inside her, but she stifled it. She did desperately crave a private reunion with Julian. However, that didn’t mean she was entitled to one. Her status was different now than it had been the last time she’d seen Julian. She wasn’t his fiancée anymore. She was someone else’s wife. Welcoming Julian home would be an entirely different experience from the one she had imagined so long ago when they’d said goodbye.

  “I’ll get Charlie,” she said.

  “Have you told him?” Logan asked.

  She was startled to hear a waver of uncertainty in his voice. Of course he was uncertain. Who wouldn’t be, under the circumstances?

  “I’ll explain to him as best I can right now,” she said. “And Logan?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Just so you know—I meant what I said at the office, earlier. I’m married to you now.”

  She saw his shoulders tense up and wondered why he didn’t seem reassured. “We’ll be ready in ten minutes,” she said and hurried to find Charlie.

  Logan grabbed another piece of bread from the basket on the table.

  In the family room, she switched off the TV.

  “Hey,” Charlie protested.

  “Hey yourself. There’s been a change of plans. That was a rerun anyway.”

  “It’s my fave.”

  “I can think of something you’ll like better. Come upstairs, and I’ll tell you about it while we get ready.”

  He was intrigued enough to follow along.

  Daisy had no idea what to wear. She didn’t want to look dressed up, or as if she was trying too hard. On the other hand, she didn’t want to look as if she didn’t care.

  Of course she cared. She cared with every inch of her heart.

  “What do you remember about Julian?” she asked her son.

  “When I was little, I called him Daddy-boy. You were going to get married to him but he got killed in the air force.”

  Daisy could not for the life of her figure out why this kid kept failing in school. He had a mind like a steel trap.

  “Everybody believed that’s what happened,” she said. “I believed it, and so did the air force and his brother, Connor.”

  She culled through the rack in her closet. Maybe the aqua-colored top. No, that had been a gift from Logan, who had surprisingly good taste in women’s clothes.

  The coral-colored one, then, she decided, with the fluttery sleeves. She stepped into the bathroom and slipped it on, then grabbed her makeup bag from a drawer. Charlie was lining up the framed family pictures on the big bureau.

  “We found out today that there was a terrible mistake. Julian didn’t get killed after all. He survived, and now he’s home in Avalon.”

  Charlie blinked, but didn’t seem shocked at all. “Where is he?”

  “At my cousin Olivia’s house. We’ve been invited to go see him right away. Is that okay with you?”

  “Will he remember me?”

  “Of course. You were a lot smaller last time he saw you.” She sat down at the vanity and unzipped her makeup bag. Go light on the makeup, she reminded herself. She brushed on powder, added a hint of blush. Mascara and lip gloss. She brushed her hair, then stood up.

  “You got all dressed up,” Charlie said. “Do I have to dress up?”

  “I’m not dressed up. It seems fitting to look nice for a guy who—”

  A horn sounded.

  “Your dad’s ready to go,” she said.

  After dinner, during which Julian had shoved down three helpings of everything, he went through a storage box he’d left in Connor’s garage before shipping out.

  The contents were mundane—photographs and keep-sakes, civilian clothes, some favorite books, a baseball mitt, other sports equipment.

  “Thanks for not getting rid of my stuff,” he said to his brother.

  “Thanks for coming back for it,” said Connor with a grin.

  In the guest room where he would sleep that night, Julian changed into some jeans from the storage box, a softly faded Cornell sweatshirt and a pair of sneakers. The jeans fit loosely, but it was good to wear his own clothes at last. It made him feel more like himself.

  There was a shoebox full of cards, postcards, pictures and letters from Daisy, a correspondence that dated back to high school. He studiously avoided that box. He’d probably never throw it out, but he would never look at it, either.

  Hearing the slam of the car door, he looked out the window to see that she had arrived. His heart tried to pound its way out of his chest. God, she looked so beautiful. There were a lot of things that were different about her—the short haircut, clothes he didn’t recognize—to remind him of how much time had passed. Then again, certain things about her were timeless, like the way she walked and the tilt of her head as she headed toward the house. And that face, those eyes… He’d seen them in his
dreams, every night. Her face looked older—more mature.

  Then someone else got out of the car—Logan. Her husband. He exited the late-model SUV, followed by Charlie and Blake, the dog. They were a family now. It was obvious.

  Charlie patted his thigh and called to the dog.

  Charlie. Could that half-grown boy be Charlie? Julian’s heart expanded almost painfully as he hurried down the stairs and out onto the porch. He tried to pull himself up short, but his aching arms, with a mind of their own, grabbed Daisy and swept her into a hug. He nearly came undone at the smell of her hair and the feel of her in his embrace. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he became aware that this could—and should—be the last time they touched. The girl was married now. Married.

  He let go and stepped back. In spite of everything, he could not stave off a smile. “Surprise,” he said.

  “Yes, surprise.” She was crying—hard, between gulps of laughter—but he could see her taking deep breaths, trying to hold herself together. Julian turned to Logan and stuck out his hand. “Hey, good to see you,” he said.

  “Yeah, welcome back,” Logan replied.

  They used to be arch enemies. Rivals for Daisy’s affections. Now the enmity was gone because Logan had already won. Besides, compared to the things Julian had endured over the past two years, the fight with Logan was a cakewalk. Since that time, Julian had learned a thing or two about patience and forbearance.

  “Hey, Charlie,” he said. “Remember me?”

  The kid eyed him bashfully, though a smile flickered on his lips. He was still really cute, but he was definitely a boy, not a baby.

  “I remember,” he said. “You gave us Blake.”

  At the sound of her name, the dog pranced around.

  “Come on inside,” Olivia called from the porch. “I have cherry pie for dessert.”

  “You like cherry pie?” Julian asked Charlie.

  “Everybody likes cherry pie.” Charlie’s smile appeared again and this time stayed in place long enough for Julian to spot a missing front tooth.

  They all headed inside. Blake trotted over and tried to get Barkis to play, but the older dog growled and ignored her. Zoe had better luck with Charlie. “Come sit by me for pie,” she crowed, regarding him as though he’d invented sunshine.