Upsy Daisy: A First Love College Romance

by Smartypants Romance

  “Because Ado told me he wanted to be an architect and you—you always told him he could do that and do the Mill. And now Dolly works there and Dolly is an engineer—she could’ve gotten a job anywhere in the world.”

  “You have a very good memory.”

  He paused for a long time, seemingly trying to figure out what to say.

  “If your sister were here, she’d tell you that she feels the exact same way as you. That I always pushed Ado toward the Mill. And I just don’t know. When you’re a parent you see things differently than your children a lot of the time. But that was never my intention. I just figured that expanding our family brand to include services of how you could use the wood we supplied would be an added bonus. Dolly says she had to fight me to get her place at Payton Mills and she’s right. I actually wanted her to go elsewhere. It was never my intention that all my children would work at the Mill. I wanted you to find your own paths.”

  “What?”

  He looked at me, surprised. “Why wouldn’t I want that for you?”

  “But what about all that stuff about being leaders, assuming our place in the world, and setting ourselves apart from the people we lead?”

  “Daisy, all of that is still true. Whatever your pursuits I expect you to pursue them with excellence and I expect you to lead. I did not raise you to have low expectations of yourself. I did not raise you to dream small. I did not raise you to be a follower of anything except your own ambition and heart. Raising you that way was done with intention and I make no apologies for it.” He continued, “So what do you want to do? Since you don’t want to work at the Mill?”

  I told my father about the ideas I’d been tossing around and he listened, asking questions, making suggestions, and nodding in approval in some places.

  Once I started talking to him, I couldn’t stop. I’d missed our daddy-daughter conversations and I’d missed his insights. “Daisy’s Doughnut House is a mouthful,” he said over the eggs, sausage, and cheese grits I’d prepared for breakfast. “Maybe you should just change it to Daisy’s Nut House. Honestly, nothing would be more fitting.” His eyes twinkled with humor as he laughed at his joke.

  Around lunchtime, I finally worked up the courage to ask for his forgiveness. His response surprised me. “I overreacted a bit. I’m not saying that I wasn’t disappointed in you for lying or that I didn’t feel rejected in the moment. And goodness knows I have never been more furious with you than I was when I found out you’d been involved in any type of thievery. But a few days after we got back, Dolly came by my office to tell me that she absolutely understood why I was upset but also that I didn’t get what it was like to grow up as a Payton after Payton Mills had become Payton Mills.

  “Dolly told me, ‘Daddy, I was fine. I adapted, developed retractable barbs to keep myself safe.’ I asked her if that was what changing your name was, you developing a barb to keep yourself safe? And she told me, ‘No. I’m trying to tell you I stood in front of Daisy with mine so she never had to develop barbs. She didn’t know how to keep herself safe.’”

  He frowned as if thinking on something deeply troubling. “And so I’d like to say I’m sor—”

  “Don’t apologize, Daddy, please!” I rushed to assure him. “It’ll just make me feel worse. He opened his hands in a beseeching manner, a motion that reminded me of the way Trevor moved his hands when he explained something and my heart gave a lurch.

  “If I’m forgiven for overreacting then you’re forgiven for your dishonesty. Deal?”

  “Deal,” I said immediately.

  My father and I talked all day and it was wonderful. During lunch, we chatted as I pulled together a quick meal of tossed salad, tomato soup, and fresh baked bread, marveling at the sparse contents of the refrigerator.

  He looked at me somberly. “We eat simply around here these days.”

  I laughed and nodded. Dolly could bake because “baking was science” in her words. But cooking? Well for starters, Dolly hated cooking on the fly. She’d lament, “A dash of this, a pinch of that. How much is a pinch?”

  Her food wasn’t bad, exactly. It was more like . . . it was terrible.

  What was worse, her food looked delicious. Probably because she was a perfectionist, but it tasted like Dolly made it. Her saving grace was that she could follow a recipe. I decided to take time while I was home to go through some of my father and sister’s favorite dishes and transcribe them into recipes, that way Dolly could maybe feed herself and our father every now and again.

  By evening, we’d made a run to the store, restocked the pantry, and my father stood sentry in the kitchen over the oven waiting for the pot roast with onions, potatoes, and carrots to be finished. The butterbeans with dumplings and cabbage with peppers and carrots was already done.

  While he waited for the roast to finish, I finally got around to telling my father about the great cookie caper with the caveat that I would not include the names of anyone involved and that he would not call any of his friends to solicit help.

  After a moment of hesitation, he agreed.

  I shared most of the story but conveniently forget to mention the hot pants and cookie T-shirts, but he got the gist.

  “Daisy, I get that your heart was in the right place but . . .”

  “I know. I shouldn’t have done it. I’m sorry.”

  He waved his hand to dismiss my apology and I moved on to Julian helping me and my three paths forward.

  My father seemed impressed. “Tell Julian to call me and we can talk strategy! Better yet, I think I still have May’s number. I’ll call and—”

  I groaned. “Stay out of it, Daddy.”

  “You didn’t ban me from talking to your friends, you only said I couldn’t discuss it with mine.”

  “Daddy!"

  He shrugged, unrepentant. “Be more careful with the deals you cut.”

  “Who’s cutting who?” Dolly’s voice carried from the hallway. She walked into the kitchen and greeted us both with hugs.

  “Your sister doesn’t want me talking to her student-lawyer friend but too bad, because that wasn’t part of our deal.”

  Dolly laughed and meandered to the sink to wash her hands and then took a seat at the table, throwing a compliment my way.

  “It smells divine in here, Daisy.”

  “It does indeed,” my father agreed.

  As my family sat around our dinner table talking about our lives, filling one another in on town gossip, retelling old stories, and joking like old times, something sharp and painful that I’d been carrying inside me began to mend—just a bit. I still found myself glancing toward my mother’s chair or expecting to hear her voice fill the lulls in the conversation, but with my family and in my home, I felt a little more whole.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Trevor

  It had taken less than twenty-four hours for me to come to my senses after my fight with Daisy.

  I was an idiot. I needed to apologize. I still didn’t know if it was possible for Daisy and me to be together but it didn’t matter. I was tired of letting my emotions turn me into the worst version of myself. My feet were on autopilot as I navigated the short flight of stairs down to El and Gracie’s place.

  El and Gracie’s and Daisy’s place.

  Gracie opened the door after a few knocks.

  She stepped aside to let me in and then returned to the living room, sprawled on the sofa, and gestured for me to have a seat.

  Their apartment was the same size as ours but far better appointed.

  “El’s not home. She had a meeting.” Gracie didn’t look up from the book she had open in her lap.

  I was clearly interrupting her study time.

  “I’m actually looking for Daisy.”

  “Daisy left.” She turned the page.

  What did she mean, Daisy left?

  “Daisy left and went where?”

  “Home, her note said.” Gracie didn’t look up from her book.

  My stomach sank.

>   It had to be just for a few days, right? Jules would’ve told me if Daisy left school permanently. Wouldn’t he?

  Gracie turned another page in silence. I got the feeling she was being intentionally oblique.

  “Do you have any idea when she’ll be back?”

  “Yep. But I’m not sure I should tell you.” Gracie’s Manhattan accent punctuated her frank tone.

  “That’s fair,” I responded.

  I didn’t like it, but it was fair. I stood to leave. Gracie closed the book and looked up at me. “You know, you offend me, Trevor.”

  I rocked back on my heels. That surprised me.

  Gracie and I had always had a good relationship in spite of my pretend relationship with El. She served as a senior senator in our student government cabinet. We worked well together.

  At least I’d thought we worked well together.

  “Well, Gracie, it seems I owe you an apology too. Though I can’t say I know precisely what I’ve done.”

  I knew I wouldn’t have to prompt her to tell me more. Gracie was on her way to law school for a reason. She could lay out a case like nobody’s business.

  Speaking of case, I would need to head to the Student Affairs’ office today to tell them that I wouldn’t be working on Daisy’s case.

  “I’m offended by people that abuse their power. You, sir, abused your power.”

  That snagged my attention.

  “Abused my power?”

  “Birdies have been talking to me. Knowing what I know about you and Daisy, it seems ludicrous that you’d agree to one of the students serving on the TDC for her case. I can only assume—”

  “I’m not going through with it. I haven’t touched the case. And I’m swinging by today to tell them I’m stepping down from it. There are any number of people—you for example—that are more qualified, with less entanglement.”

  “I would never. She’s my roommate—that would be a conflict of interest.” She stressed the words as if to make a point.

  “Agreed.”

  “Forgive me if I’m overstepping my boundaries here. Actually, I am most definitely overstepping my boundaries, but given that I’ve spent the last few months watching my girlfriend tread through endless guilt over how your fake romance was preventing you from being with your one true love—”

  This was news to me. I’d never intended for Elodie to feel guilty. One more thing to feel bad about, to try to set right.

  “I feel like I’m owed the opportunity to speak.”

  I sat and braced myself for my dressing-down. I was surprised when her tone turned gentle. “Why are you sabotaging your chances with Daisy?”

  It felt like a sock to my gut. The truth I’d been hiding from was made all the more painful by the softness of Gracie’s tone.

  She’s too good for me. She will eventually leave me. Everyone does.

  I pushed aside those thoughts. I hadn’t wanted to acknowledge them. I knew they were irrational. But that didn’t make it any easier to shake them.

  “I’m not pushing her away.”

  “I never said that you were. I said you were sabotaging your chances with her, but I think your subconscious just told me what’s really going on here.”

  Gracie was the child of two shrinks; she was big on the subconscious. She was also correct.

  I frowned down at my hands. There was no way I could earn Daisy’s forgiveness after all we’d endured. After the way that I’d hurt her.

  It was the earnestness of her expression and that loosened my tongue.

  “I don’t know what I can do to get her to forgive me.”

  “You could try apologizing,” she prompted softly.

  “That’s what I came here to do. But after I apologize I don’t know what to do—how to earn her forgiveness. I don’t know how to prove that I’m worthy.”

  She cocked her head at me, examining me in a way that made my tongue clam up. Gracie looked at me like I’d unintentionally revealed a secret and it made me self-conscious.

  After a moment of us both being silent she cleared her throat and said, “I’m sorry, I just—I forget sometimes how badly you all had it in that house. And child abuse—”

  Child abuse was serious and I needed to set her straight. “I wasn’t abused growing up, Gracie. Nothing happened to me in the Marshall’s house.”

  “Sure.” Her tone was unconvinced.

  “I mean it. I was mostly just left alone.”

  “You were ignored,” she countered.

  “I was . . .” Ignored.

  But I didn’t like the way she said it, as if it was something to be pitied instead of it being a gift. In that house, being ignored was basically something to be celebrated.

  Before I could counter she shook her head and closed her eyes, then opened them and looked at me beseechingly. “Trevor, I need you to listen to me and really try to hear me. I know this goes against everything you’ve been taught, but there is nothing you can do to earn Daisy’s forgiveness.”

  I know that. It’s too late. Bleakness unfurled in the pit of my stomach.

  “That’s not how forgiveness works.” My attention snapped to hers.

  “Forgiveness is given. It’s not earned. It can’t be. If a person wants to forgive you, they will. And if they don’t want to forgive you, then they won’t. And no amount of hoops you jump through is going to change that.

  “Atonement is different. When you hurt someone, you can and absolutely should atone for what you did. You should seek them out and try to determine what you can do to ease or erase that hurt—but even in doing that, they don’t have to forgive you. It’s not owed to you because it can’t be earned. And sometimes even if a person does nothing to atone they’ll be forgiven anyway. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  I thought I did, but it was a difficult concept to accept. In my experience, everything had to be earned.

  “So you’re saying I should stop trying to get Daisy to forgive me?”

  She laughed. “Daisy is a sweetheart. She’s probably already forgiven you. What I’m saying is fight.”

  I laughed humorlessly. All Daisy and I seemed to do was fight.

  “Stop fighting with her, and start fighting for her. And stop fighting yourself. You care about her. So care for her. No caveats. No requirements.”

  “What if Daisy doesn’t want me as her champion?”

  “Then she’ll let you know. But right now Daisy probably doesn’t even know that’s an option.”

  “What if—”

  “Trevor, you used Elodie as an excuse to keep from pursuing this girl. Then you used the fact that you’d messed up as an excuse, then you used her secrets as an excuse, and now you’re using whatever happened between you guys yesterday to make Daisy leave here in a tear as an excuse. No more excuses. Either you want her or you don’t.”

  Gracie’s words sounded so wistful they made my heart clench. “The only thing blocking the path for you and Daisy is you and Daisy. You can have your happy ending. Why won’t you take it?”

  Gracie and I had talked a bit more after that. She’d told me that Elodie was in Knoxville meeting with a caterer that had flown in at May’s request to do a food tasting for the engagement party.

  I’d asked Gracie how she felt about the whole thing. Her response had been practical if not melancholy. “I accepted a long time ago that El and I might not have a happy ending . . .” Then her melancholy fell away and all that was left was grit. “But I still fight.”

  Long after I’d left her words reverberated through my mind. You can have your happy ending. Why won’t you take it?

  I began to formulate a plan. I would apologize to Daisy and then . . .I needed an ally. I needed more resources. I needed to show her how I felt. I needed to find her friends.

  Daisy

  Dolly deposited me back at school on Sunday night, with sage parting words. “Try not to get expelled over the next three weeks.”

  I shot back, “Try not to fall in love with Reve
rend Paul Smith over the next three weeks.”

  It was worth it to see her head almost spin thee hundred and sixty degrees on its axis.

  I’d taken mercy on my sister and decided not to question her about why our Reverend was the last thing on her mind before she drifted off to sleep at night. I had, however, kept a careful watch over them both during this morning’s Sunday service. And they’d been so dang circumspect.

  My suspicions weren’t confirmed until after service ended and we got near the door to leave. I snuck a peak back at the Reverend’s face as he watched my sister leave, his expression one I was all too familiar with. Yearning clear as day flashed across his face for less than a second as my sister stepped out the door. Then a parishioner was in front of him and his smile was back.

  I’d let my father and sister know that I was going to stick it out at school for Thanksgiving because I needed to study and all that commuting back and forth would just take away from study time. My father relented after a few protestations when I pointed out I was already behind on my classwork due to my impromptu vacation and I’d be home the week after Thanksgiving as soon as I finished my finals. I promised to cook a big meal for them with all the trimmings then.

  The next morning, I opened my apartment door and was greeted by ruckus on the stairs over my head.

  “Take me to her right now! Or I will—”

  “Ow! Calm down! I will go get her and then you can see she’s fine! No one has hurt Daisy, least of all me!”

  “Why do you need to go get her? Why can’t you just tell me where she is or take me to her!”

  A very harassed-sounding Trevor and a very worried-sounding Odie were having a very loud conversation in our stairwell.

  I wasn’t sure about the whole “least of all me” part, but I was sure that his loyalty to his friends was evergreen and that he would not show Odie where Gracie and El lived. I was tempted to be evil and leave Trevor to fend for himself against Odie’s demands . . .