by Laura Ward
Dean cocked his head to the side. “How many girls you bang?”
Jon blew air out his nose, his neck turning red. “None of your business.”
Dean kept going. “I’m not trying to be rude. Normally, a guy I love dating a sister I adore would be great. But not when he has no intention of being a boyfriend and not when she’s innocent and he’s the furthest thing from it.”
“We. Are. Just. Friends.” Jon bit out, his anger vibrating against the walls.
When it was clear our little talk was over, Dean walked up the stairs.
Grace shot me a sympathetic smile and then followed behind him.
“Hey,” I whispered, tugging on his hand. “Ignore him. He’s in overprotective brother mode. Besides, it’s not like we’re trying to have a relationship. We are friends… who are just touchy feely sometimes.” I winked, and he cracked a half smile.
“Flower, I’m turning on the tube. It’s football time,” Dad’s voice boomed out as he walked through the kitchen and into the family room.
I released Jon’s hand and stepped away from him. “Okay, Dad. I’m sure Jon would love to join you. I’m going to work on desserts.” Dad sat in his big recliner and I bent to kiss his cheek.
“See, Flower?” He reached out and ran his finger down my cheek. “This is why you can’t leave me next year for that dirty, dangerous New York place. You’ve always been my sweet girl, kissin’ her dad and takin’ care of him. What would I do without you?”
I stood up and forced a smile, albeit a shaky one on my face. “I know, Dad. I know.”
I couldn’t look at Jon. His disappointment emanated through the room. Here was a chance to stand up to my dad and show him why moving away for school meant so much to me. But instead, I clammed up. I avoided the hard stuff and hid behind my cooking.
Again.
And until that stopped, I would stay right where I was. Both in Indiana and in life.
~~~
Dean, Grace, and Finn left early the next morning for Chicago. Dean had a big game on Sunday and needed to be back in town for practice. While I always missed him when he was gone, this time, with Jon living here, I felt relieved.
Dean’s suspicions put Jon and me on edge, and I hated feeling anything but relaxed and content around Jon.
“Morning,” I greeted Jon when he walked into the kitchen. I was up to my elbows in soapy dishwater, cleaning wine glasses from the night before and muffin tins from this morning.
“Mornin’ to you, too. Where is everybody?” Jon pulled a mug off the shelf and poured himself some coffee.
“It’s Black Friday, and we’re the Goldsmiths,” I stated, unplugging the sink and drying my hands with a towel.
Jon’s eyebrows pulled together in question as he drank.
I pushed a plate of warm apple muffins his way. “The Goldsmith’s shop all day on Black Friday for Christmas. It’s serious business. Devin and Damian are the bag holders and car runners this year. Delilah and Mom shop, Dianna keeps track on charts of what’s been purchased, what’s needed, and how much has been spent.”
Jon grabbed a muffin and broke it open, steam wafting up from the center. He leaned forward to inhale the fragrance. “Smells fuckin’ great. But you forgot to mention your dad.”
I grinned, shaking my head. “Oh, he’s there all right. To bother everyone. He claims he’s the feeder and insists on snack and meal breaks every two hours.”
Jon laughed and then took a bite of the muffin. “Delicious,” he mumbled before shoving the second half in his mouth. “So how did you escape Black Friday?”
“We have plans,” I said.
Jon’s mouth twisted. “We do?”
“I’m taking you bowling.” He raised his eyebrows. “With Amy and Izzy!”
He grinned and nodded. “Well, all right. Hey, question for you.”
“Hit me.” I grinned, tossing the towel over my shoulder.
“Izzy says ‘okay’ after almost every sentence. Why is that?” Jon asked.
I shrugged. “It’s her quirk. Some people with developmental disabilities will flap their hands in excitement, say things like ‘yup, yup,’ or ‘okay.’ It’s just a habit that brings them some comfort.”
“Sort of like you cooking comfort food? That’s your quirk, right?” Jon winked, spreading butter on another muffin.
“Exactly. And I was going to say your quirk could be your extreme love of my food, but I’m going to go with you giving me orgasm brain instead.” I tossed the kitchen towel at Jon’s head as he coughed around his mouthful of breakfast.
He smacked his chest, settling his coughing fit. “I like the sass. Keep it comin’.” He pulled me onto his lap, smacking a loud kiss on my lips as I laughed. “Just lemme power through another six of these bad boys and I’ll be ready to go.”
The man could eat, I’d give him that.
~~~
Damian: Checking in. Eating pretzels at food court. Dad is trying to convince mom to buy a turkey fryer. Typical shenanigans. You and Jon are home alone. All okay?
Daisy: Uh, what??
Damian: Don’t pull that with me, Irish Twin
Daisy: Pull what?
Damian: C’mon. I saw you two play football. I saw you chat during dinner. I know you like him. Now I think he might like you too.
Daisy: He doesn’t. We’re friends.
Damian: Friends who get nakey?
Daisy: Shut up. No!
Damian: Do you wannna get nakey with him?
Daisy: I’m turning off my phone now. You’re my brother and this is gross.
Damian: Nakey, nakey, nakey, nakey…
Power off.
Damn. Now Damian and Dean were watching. Was everyone? Were we that obvious? I could not share this with Jon. He’d lose his mind if he thought the family was on to us.
Maybe I should tell Damian. He might understand. He might be happy for me.
Or he could tell Mom or Dad and the best thing that ever happened to me could implode right in front of me.
~~~
“Strike!” Amy shouted, jumping in the air and clapping her hands.
“Yahoo,” Izzy yelled, high fiving her partner.
Jon looked at me with rounded eyes. “We got spanked.”
“I told you they were good,” I said, as the girls celebrated. We bet them a dinner out of their choice if they won. Now I was hoping neither had a hankering for a fancy steakhouse.
“They aren’t good, Daisy.” Jon slung an arm around my shoulder, eyeing Izzy as she shimmied her rear end to the booming country music song. “They’re semi-professionals. Jesus, that was embarrassing.”
“Speak for yourself.” I smacked his stomach and he grunted. “I did much better than last time.”
“Really?” He pinched my side and I giggled, trying and failing to escape. “You must have really sucked last time.” He grinned at me and I turned, looping my arms around his waist.
I stood on my tiptoes, my mouth close to his ear. “You want me to show you how I suck?” I wasn’t playing fair, I was well aware, but the temptation was too great to resist.
His forehead fell to my shoulder and he groaned as he dug his hands into my hips. “Daisy.”
My name sounded more like a tortured plea.
Daisy = one
Jon = zero
“They are so cute, okay?” Izzy squealed and I pulled away from Jon.
Amy smiled. “Jon, you aren’t being a dickhead to our Daisy, like Dean was to Grace, are you?”
I stilled. Uh oh. I was so comfortable around Amy and Izzy that I forgot to hide how I felt about Jon.
Jon’s lips twitched as he struggled with how to answer Amy.
I turned to the girls. “We’re just close friends. We aren’t dating or anything. And he’s been very nice to me, Amy. Not at all a dickhead like Dean was.”
Amy’s brows drew together and she looked at Izzy.
Izzy’s eyes were wide. “When pigs fly,” she muttered. “Okay?”
&nbs
p; “Excuse me?” I asked, desperately trying to hold back a grin.
“I said, ‘When pigs fly,’ meaning I’d believe that when pigs fly, okay?” Izzy explained, placing her hands on her round hips.
“Daisy,” Amy started, seeming to be having a hard time finding her words. “You two seem like you are a couple in love. Very much so. It is really sweet.”
Jon stepped forward. “Now, Amy, listen. We don’t need you saying that stuff to Finn or Grace. If it got back to Dean, he’d be very mad. He thinks I’m way too old to be hanging around Daisy. Besides,” he stated, louder and firmer. “We aren’t a couple in love.” A harsh laugh slipped out before he could stop it. One that sounded like the idea of that statement was the definition of absurd. “No way. Not happening.”
While that was the truth, my stomach hurt at his words. What was so preposterous about the thought that we could be a couple in love? Why was that so wrong to everyone?
Including Jon.
Amy’s eyes narrowed and she studied each of our faces in turn. “Now you two know I know lots of things in this world. And I’m very smart. I pay attention.”
I nodded and looked over at Jon. He cocked his head and kept his arms crossed, feet planted wide, ready for battle.
“So I call bullshit. Total bullshit.” She pointed at me and then Jon. “If you don’t want Dean to find out, then you are hiding something.”
Izzy moved next to her friend, linking their arms together. “They might be hiding it from themselves, too, okay?”
“Good one, roomie.” Amy agreed as they both continued to stare at us.
“And if that is the case, there is nothing we can do until they are honest with their own hearts. Okay?” Izzy said with a small, sad smile.
She pitied us. This woman who just by being born with an extra chromosome, had some assholes thinking she shouldn’t live alone or work or date, pitied Jon and me. Because no matter her struggles or perceived limitations, she was, at the core, honest about who she was and what she wanted.
“Now I am starving, okay? What about you, Ames?” Izzy asked.
Amy grinned back at her. “Always. What are we thinking? Burgers and hot fudge sundaes?”
Izzy jumped off the ground. “I have the smartest roomie. And these two lovebirds in denial are paying. Okay?”
The two grabbed their bowling bags and headed for the car, laughing and chattering with one another.
Little did they know that their burst of honesty detonated a bomb in front of Jon and me.
Jon = zero
Daisy = zero
Amy and Izzy = one million-and-two
~~~
The ride home after dinner was silent. As soon as Amy and Izzy were out of the car and safely home, I turned to Jon.
“Talk to me. Why are you so mad? They were just kidding.” My heart raced and my stomach knotted. I wiped my sweaty palms on my jeans while I waited for his response.
Jon grunted. “They weren’t kidding. That’s the point. We got too comfortable, Daisy. And they were exactly right. If we don’t want Dean to find out, we’re hiding something. The deal ends now. It has to.”
“But, why? We’re having fun, right?” My voice shook and I blinked back tears.
Jon pulled into my driveway and handed me the keys to my company car. “It was fun, but it went too far. I’m going to be the responsible one here and stop this before someone gets hurt. I need some space, Daisy.”
And with that Jon didn’t meet my gaze. He couldn’t even look me in the eye. He opened his door, getting out and shutting it without a second thought. I dragged in a shaky breath.
He hustled over to his truck and jumped in, eyes focused on the rearview mirror. My hands clenched the steering wheel, squeezing like I could rip it off the car. Stop, Jon. Don’t do this. Look at me.
His tires squealed as he gunned the engine, peeling off down the road. My stomach dropped. I tried to swallow, but my throat was bone dry. I’d guess he was heading to the closest bar to meet a random hookup. For someone who didn’t want to live like his mom, he sure walked a parallel path.
Instead of heading inside, I walked to the lake, taking in how the moonlight danced along the glistening surface. I thought I had to see the moon shine on the other side of the world to really change.
Six months of friendship with Jon changed me plenty. A future without his company left a numb sensation coursing through me.
But what caused an intense pain, right in the center of my heart, was when I realized he hadn’t called me Sunshine.
~~~
We spoke only out of necessity for the next month.
It was lonelier than when I lost all my friends. Now all I wanted, with an unparalleled desperation, was to escape.
And so, on Christmas Eve when I sealed and stamped my last application letters and dropped them in the mail, I felt free.
I might not have everything I wanted in life, but I was starting with my dreams.
I crossed my fingers and tucked them into my jacket sleeves.
Culinary school, here I come.
Chapter Sixteen
Jon
SEVENTEEN YEARS OLD.
“Jon?” My mom called through the closed door. “Are you awake?”
Forcing my eyes open, I swung my feet onto the floor. Fuck. The guys and I pounded beers last night at a bonfire by the lake. My head felt like it was full of lead.
“Yeah, Ma.” My voice cracked, and I coughed. “C’mon in.”
Mom opened the door, her robe tied tight across her waist. “Merry Christmas! Want to come open your gifts?”
“Ma,” I grumbled, scrubbing my hands down my face. “I told you I didn’t need anything this year. I’ve got a job. I can take care of myself.”
“Stop,” she waved me off with her hand. “It’s nothing much. But it’s the last Christmas at home before you leave for college. I wanted to get you something.”
I stood up, stretching my arms over my head, and catching my reflection in the mirror. I slept in sweatpants, but no shirt. Years of doing little else but working out and playing football changed my body. I looked more like a man and less like a boy. I was proud of my strength. Honing my muscles left me feeling far less vulnerable than when I was younger. I could take care of myself in more ways than just financially.
Walking into the living room was sort of depressing. Mom sucked at holiday decorating. She stuck some reusable stickers in the shape of trees and stockings to the sliding glass door of the apartment. A pitifully small, skinny, artificial tree stood in the corner, gold tinsel and multi-colored lights wrapped haphazardly around it. She’d saved some of the handmade ornaments I gave her as a kid, and they were scattered on the tree as well. Two Dollar Store red felt stockings were taped up to the edge of the television console because we didn’t have a mantel. And that was about it.
Dean’s home was filled to the brim with homemade holiday cheer. Every year there was a huge tree, decorated with ornaments and lights. The outside of his home gave the Griswold’s a run for their money. Dean’s dad hung lights for days and decorated the yard with those obnoxious inflatable figures that embarrassed the shit out of Dean.
Landon’s home was also beautiful, but not in a comfortable, inviting way. His parents hired professionals to decorate and hang lights. It was over-the-top, but then again, so were Landon’s mom and dad.
I sat on the sofa as Mom walked out of the kitchen with two mugs of coffee. She handed one to me, and I gulped it down, hoping the jolt of caffeine would help my head.
Mom handed me a present. I opened it slowly, not sure what to expect or say. Mom wasn’t big on gifts.
I pulled out an Indiana University blanket. “Wow, that’s pretty cool. Thanks.” I would find out soon if I got into IU and if I was lucky enough to make their football team.
Mom shrugged. “I know it’s your dream school.” I opened a few other presents. Nothing remarkable, just socks, boxer briefs, and a gift card to the movies. But the fact was, this was
the nicest Christmas I could remember with my Mom.
I handed her the red stocking with her name written in black marker. She smiled, reaching in and pulling out the small box. “Jon! You shouldn’t have gotten me anything,” she said as she ripped open the paper.
I’d seen the heart shaped necklace at the mall. The store advertised it as a ‘mother’s necklace,’ one where you put in your birthstone and your mother’s. The price wasn’t bad, and I wanted her to have something to open, regardless if I got any gifts.
“Oh, I love it. Thank you!” She stood up and walked over to me, hugging me tightly.
“Put it on me?” She held out the box, and I picked up the necklace, turning her back toward me. She must like it. While the gifts I gave her were never big, and for years were homemade, they never seemed to mean anything special to her.
I took the necklace out of the box, just as the front door swung open.
“Merry Christmas, Peg!” Mom’s latest boyfriend, Scott, walked through the door, ignoring me and planting a wet, noisy kiss on Mom’s lips.
Mom pulled away, wrinkling her nose at something behind Scott’s back. “What’s that?”
Scott laughed, producing a trash bag that reeked of stale beer. My stomach roiled.
“This was in the bed of your kid’s truck. You twenty-one yet, Jonny? Cause if you’re not, drinking beer is illegal as hell.” Scott grinned, rocking back and forth on his cowboy-booted heels.
Keeping my face totally blank, I took a long drink of coffee before responding. “None of your business, Scotty.”
The grin fell off his face. “Don’t you speak to me like that. Tell him, Peg. And for God’s sake, boy, put a shirt on. Nobody needs to see your weak body parading ‘round here.”
I placed my coffee on the side table, balling my hands into fists at my side.
“Jon, please stop. It’s Christmas.” She pointed at the kitchen. “Go get a donut. I bought a box last night for breakfast.”
Glaring at Scott, I followed her orders. I grabbed a chocolate donut, while Mom gave Scott his presents. Moving onto the second donut, she opened her gift from Scott.
