Daisy's Choice (A Tale of Three Hearts)

by Mynx, Sienna

  This was news to Pete. He stayed away from the Johnsons, fearing the blame and accusations in their hearts. On the rare occasions he saw the minister in town, they barely exchanged hellos. Was Maureen embellishing? Why would she? “I… I’m sorry. I don't want to cause any stress to the family.”

  “No, don’t be. Sister Johnson is in no condition to deal with these matters, so I’m handling the arrangements. If you could sit to the front of the church—”

  “You sure?"

  "Yes, Pete, please."

  "Okay. I’m honored to do it.”

  The door opened and Nina emerged, looking at him curiously.

  “Bless you. See you soon.”

  “Thank you.” He hung up.

  “Who was that?” Nina asked.

  “Reverend Johnson wanted me to be a pallbearer. Had it in his will or something… that was the church.”

  “It’s an honor, Pete. I’m not surprised though.”

  Pete looked up from the phone in his hand. “Why not?”

  Nina approached. “Because he sees what I see.”

  She stopped before him, cupping his face in her hands. Standing between his legs, she looked into his eyes. “He sees what a beautiful soul you are. I love you, Peter Doyle, and I know you love me, even if you can’t say it.”

  “Nina—”

  “It’s okay. I know what I signed on for. I want you whole, however we get there.” She swallowed, her eyes glistening with tears that teetered on her long lashes, threatening to spill. “However we get there is okay with me.”

  He stood. She stepped into his arms. The embrace was a warm sealing of their bond. She leaned back as if to pull away and he immediately delivered a soft kiss to her full lips, fusing what was real between them and what wasn’t. Pete decided in that moment that together they’d face his past. It would be the only chance they had at having a future.

  ****

  The door opened. Mathew Sterling squeezed his big frame inside the car, bringing with him the pungent odor of his cigarette habit. “It’s done. We have men at the Johnson’s home, the church, the funeral home, and the cemetery. We also have all the limo services in Louisville under our surveillance. If she comes, sir, we’ll know it.”

  “She will come,” Aiden said softly, his gaze drifting back to the condensation running a stream of tears down the tint of the passenger window.

  “Will you be attending the service?” Sterling asked in a shaky voice.

  “No, I won’t intrude. I’ll go to the cemetery.”

  Sterling nodded. “Anything else, sir?”

  Aiden returned his gaze. "You fuck this up, cost me her in any way, and your days of being a high priced snoop are over. One shot at this, Mr. Sterling. I suggest you make the most of it.”

  Sterling swallowed. “Yes, sir.” He threw open the door and stepped out quickly as if Satan himself had the contract to his soul. Aiden dropped his head back on the headrest, finger tapping his knee and his thoughts nowhere and yet everywhere. He wasn't a patient man. Daisy had changed him. He’d find her soon. He felt it. But he had no plan after that. He couldn’t force her to listen to him, couldn’t make her hear him out. Aiden had been so focused on finding her he hadn’t thought anything else through. He needed leverage and something that would bring her to him. At this point, what could he use?

  ****

  Donovan gripped the silver tip of his cane. Andria walked ahead, her long ponytail swaying across her shoulders. She kept him young as did her mother once. He met Rebecca 19 years ago. She was a dancer on the Vegas strip. He fell in love with her after one show, married her, and she was pregnant a year later. Having the sweetest personality, she made him whole. That was until a drunk driver stole her from him one fateful night when Andria was only two. Now he was a single parent, aging rapidly. Balancing his steps with the help of his cane, he understood the pain of that loss and the pride in seeing what a wonderful young girl Andria had become. The double glass-doors to Jahi parted, and they both entered. The staff, dressed in all white, waited with a very attractive woman in between.

  “Welcome to Jahi. I’m Clara Anderson.” She extended her hand to Andria then him. Donovan accepted it.

  Clara’s gaze switched to his daughter. “So you must be Andria?”

  “I am. I’m so excited about this!” Andria gushed.

  “Have you been to Jahi before?” Clara asked.

  “No, no, but, God, I’ve tried. Everyone I know has tried. I was just telling daddy that this is a privilege.”

  Donovan’s eyes drifted away from the ladies to the surroundings. Jahi was quite impressive. The atrium was all glass. To the center was a fountain shaped by a large rock formation with a waterfall completing the aesthetics. The flowers, mostly water lilies, birds of paradise and an assortment of orchids, seemed to grow from the stream and thatches of moss. The stony structure reached at least twelve feet toward the domed ceiling. Jahi was located against a mountainous cliff built along the steep slope that overlooked Mango Grove, prime real estate for the type of exclusivity it boasted.

  The floors were pearl white with soft pink and lavender marble swirls and polished so they appeared to be made of liquid. The walls that led out of the atrium were lavender trimmed in sage. And the smells were so faint that the mixture of lemongrass, vanilla, berry, and something woodsy all blended wonderfully. It didn’t stop there. He took inventory of everything. Lastly, the furnishings, immaculate, classy works of art could be found sparsely.

  “Mr. McBride, will you be joining Andria?” Clara asked, pulling him from his thoughts.

  “No. I’m fine.”

  “Daddy, you should! Seriously! It’s a—”

  “Once in a lifetime experience. Yes, I know, sweetie.” Donovan’s critical gaze returned to the brunette. “How long will she be?”

  “Well, she booked a full treatment, including hairstyling, skin polishing. Lunch will be provided. That’s a four hour event at least.”

  “I’ll be back. You enjoy.”

  “Daddy,” Andria whined. “I wanted to do it together.”

  “Enjoy. We’ll go to dinner and a little shopping afterwards.”

  Andria shrugged off her disappointment. “Okay, but you will keep your promise?”

  "Yes." He nodded to Clara that he approved.

  Clara smiled. “We’ll take good care of her.”

  Donovan tipped his hat and walked off. Santa Ana wasn’t far. He could handle the last of business and be back in plenty time. The glass doors parted and he stepped through, glancing back once to the swank little slice of heaven. Paradise.

  “Impressive,” he mumbled. “Will have to tell Aiden about this place. Could be lucrative.”

  ****

  The organist played, but the moans of Martha Johnson drowned out each bar of music, or matched it with an equally or higher sorrowful pitch. The choir stood singing In the Sweet Bye and Bye, and her daughters broke into sobs with her. The oldest one, who resembled Daisy the most, held her mother protectively close to her bosom.

  Pete tried not to look at them. He tried harder not to think of the Reverend, stuffed in the casket, spirit gone. Even more so, he tried not to think of the packed church with no Daisy in sight. As he went to take position at the back of the casket, he found the only pair of eyes to help him through it. Nina smiled at him, tears streaming down her cheeks. He nodded to her and lifted the casket, moving stiffly with the others, carrying precious cargo. The eight men walked the carpeted isle, carrying the Reverend out of his kingdom into the next. His flock all wept, hugging and helping others through the passing. Pete felt as if his stomach was being turned inside out.

  Where was Daisy? She should be here. How could she not be? If she didn’t say goodbye to her father, she’d never forgive herself. How I wish I could at least have found her to tell her the news. Maybe I could have convinced her to come home.. Now I feel like I robbed her of this too.

  His hands, tight to the brass handle on the coffin, grew shaky from
his grief and conflict. Pete marched with the deacons down the sidewalk and tried to keep his end upright. Hard as it was, they approached the back of the limo. A collaborative effort helped guide the mahogany coffin inside the dark chariot.

  Finally, he turned away. That’s when he saw it. Parked along the street several cars back. He squinted at the car and the deep tinted windows that concealed the passenger.

  “Pete?” Nina’s hand touched his shoulder.

  “C’mon, let’s go.”

  He looked back and the limo was gone. The crowd filing out of the church all went to their cars. Pete shook the feeling of being watched and led Nina away to follow the family to the cemetery.

  ***

  Aiden’s limo parked at the highest point, giving a view of the graveside markers, crypts, and headstones. Opening his limo door gravel crunched under his heel as he stepped out. The rich smell of soil and decaying flowers that littered the graves greeted him. There was no word from Mathew Sterling on her arrival. She could have rented a car or could have driven her own. Surely, she was there.

  He scanned the gathering. The doors of several vehicles opened at once and more people, clad in black, arrived. It wasn’t hard to see Daisy’s mother. Sunglasses covered her weepy eyes. She emerged slumped over, helped by the assistance of a young woman that caught his attention. She looked so much like his Daisy. Even in the distance, it gave his heart pause.

  Two more young women, who were different shades of brown, held each other's hand. All of them carried a distinct family trait that sisters shared. This was Daisy’s family. For the first time in a long time he felt like she was real and not something he imagined.

  Aiden looked on. The Johnson women were all weeping openly. Their grief consumed them. Daisy’s absence sat like a stone in his gut and probably their hearts. If she didn’t come, what did that mean? Was he the cause? Did he destroy a family as his was destroyed by an interloping money hungry bitch that gave his father the noose he put around his neck? He looked away from the mourners, the irony not lost on him.

  Aiden removed his cigar and golden lighter from his inside pocket. As he cupped the flame and took a deep inhale, his eyes went to the graves around him. Flashes of his return to Ireland to bury his father overcame him. This was not a place he wanted to be.

  Dropping back on the car, he lowered he cigar and his eyes. Staring at the burning tip, smoke curling up out of his mouth into his nostrils, he considered letting her go. But when his heart said no and pride demanded he see it through, he set it aside.

  He waited.

  ****

  Pete wasn’t needed. The funeral director and staff carried the casket out from the hearse to the gravesite. He walked along the line of parked cars, holding Nina’s hand and looking between the crowds. He did another scan for Daisy.

  “She’s not here,” Nina said.

  “I didn’t say anything about her.”

  Nina dropped her head and kept close to his side. Together they joined the vigil, blended with the crowd and paid a final respect.

  ****

  Daisy wiped another tear. The noise of the café did so little to drown out her sighs. She could hear the beat of her heart and feel each minute as it ticked by. A couple next to her laughed. She looked over at them and saw the young girl hanging on to every word of her companion. A blonde blue-eyed guy picked up her hand and kissed it. Daisy averted her gaze.

  She wouldn't think of Pete and the time when she was that smiling girl. One heartache at a time was enough.

  To her right, another couple arrived. This man was more distinguished in his attire, dark hair, polished. He helped the woman with him into a seat. She looked away from that scene as well.

  “Thank you for dining at Toro’s, Ms. Locke.”

  Daisy nodded, taking the folded leather restaurant jacket and removing the receipt to sign it. Dropping her credit card in her purse, she wanted out of the place that seemed to be filling up with couples. She couldn’t stand being alone. She couldn’t stand being at Jahi with Clara constantly probing her with questions. And finally, she wouldn’t dare be around Amy in this condition. So this was the only place she could hide. She just needed to be around people. To wait it out. But as time ebbed, she kept seeing her family, mother and sisters saying goodbye, minus her there. It broke her heart.

  On the sidewalk, she let the tears flow. Crying wasn’t something she did often. Those wounds had sealed years ago. If she gave in to her emotions, she would have never had enough focus to build a life for Amy. One that Aiden Keane could not discover. She knew of his search for her. It shocked her at first. Why would Aiden Keane go to such lengths, she wondered. Then it frightened her. What would Aiden think of her pregnancy? Would he use that too for his own amusement? She couldn't trust him and she was sure of that. So she pleaded her case to a stranger, Aiden's hired investigator. The man was her only hope was to throw Aiden off her scent. To this day, she wasn't sure why the man helped her. Maybe it was because she was eight months pregnant and terrified when he found her. Whatever his reasons, he taught her how to disappear permanently and put her in contact with people that gave her a new identity. Still, she had many nightmares that the investigator would confess his deceit and one day Aiden would show up at her door. Not for her but for Amy.

  Today was a day of reflection. She didn't hate Aiden. She hated herself mostly, because after everything he'd gotten to her. Even now, a part of her was ashamed to admit how much. She looked away, biting down on her lip, as young women passed her with shopping bags. In doing so, she lifted her eyes to the building across the street.

  ‘ Christian Family Worship Center'

  Daisy stopped. Something struck her as she stared at the doors of the church. Sanctuary is what I need now. Hurrying across the street, watching for cars, she found the church empty. She walked down the aisle, her vision focused solely on the podium like the one her father commanded. They lifted to the stained glass image of Christ. She removed her sunglasses and felt humbled. There was a calming nearness to her father and God that vacuumed up her tears and heartache. She chose a seat in the front row.

  Memories washed over her. From somewhere deep within herself, she smiled. How many times were she and her sisters forced to the front pew? Daisy and her middle sister, Denise, would drift off to sleep only to get nudged awake, taken to the back for snacks and then brought out front to sit through the sermon like good daddy’s-girls.

  “Oh Daddy, Daddy,” she sighed. “You were the messenger, and I was the fool.”

  ****

  Pete let go of Nina’s hand.

  “Going to pay my respects,” she said.

  He nodded that he would wait. When she stepped away, his gaze was drawn from the familiar faces crowding the tent out across the graves. Daisy hadn’t returned. Only death would keep her from her father's funeral. Could she be dead? No. He knew inside he'd feel it if she were. She was out there. It was possible she didn't know what happened? But the fire in Hollow Creek had made national news. She had to have heard.

  Wiping a hand down his face, he left the tent and faced the afternoon sky. Storm clouds were gathering. The air tasted like rain. With his hands deep in his pockets and his mind chasing reasons for Daisy's absence, he walked further away from the mourners. Before long, he was headed to the cars. Pete watched a limo parked away from the others. This time he was able to see the passenger leaning against it.

  “What the fuck?”

  ****

  Aiden extinguished his cigar with the pad of his thumb. The sting was nothing compared to his disappointment. He looked up with disinterest as Pete stumped through graves, headed his way.

  How could he have been so wrong about this?

  ***

  “What the fuck are you doing here?” Pete demanded.

  Aiden met his stare with a cool one of his own.

  “I asked you a question! How dare you show your face here!”

  “How dare we? Right, Pete,” Aiden smirked.
<
br />   “We?”

  “That’s right. It took two. Not just me. Does her family know she isn’t here because you abandoned her over your pride?”

  “Fuck you! You sick twisted bastard. Five years and you’re still the snake you always were. To come to her father’s funeral like this. Are you demented or just fucking insane?”