He picked up the chair, carried it out the back door and tossed it into the pitch-black yard. Then he turned and stared at the heavy wooden table that had belonged to his mother. Where they’d eaten family meals.
Where he’d eaten Daisy.
In his present mood, he probably could have picked up the whole damn table and chucked it outside with the chair, but it wouldn’t fit out the door. He went to the shed and grabbed his power tools. When he returned, he flipped the table with one hand. It hit the floor with a loud satisfying crash. He popped a beer, fired up his Black & Decker, and got busy.
By the time he was finished, the table was in pieces and lying about the yard along with the chair. He’d gone through a six pack and started on a bottle of Johnny Walker. Jack had never been a big drinker. Never thought it solved a damn thing. Tonight he just wanted to dull the pain.
With glass in hand, he moved from the dining room, passed his open bedroom door. Passed the lamplight shining on his messed up sheets that he was sure still held the scent of her skin. He walked into the living room and drained his glass. He didn’t bother turning on the light. He sat on his black leather sofa. In the dark. Alone.
Light from the kitchen spilled out into the hall and almost reached the toe of his boot. He was tired and beat up from the football game and from Daisy, but he knew he wouldn’t sleep. He’d told her he loved her and she’d said it wasn’t enough. She wanted more.
He closed his eyes and the room spun. He felt the pitch and roll of his stomach. He’d fucked up. He’d let her into his life. He’d known better. He’d known she’d carve him up again like he had a big X on his chest. He’d held his arms wide and given her a good shot, too.
I’m telling you that you have a right to your anger. You have a right to it for the rest of your life. She’d told him. But it seems to me very lonely company when you can have so much more if you could somehow let it go.
Jack was a man who was used to fixing things. Of working until it was as close to perfect as possible. But he knew his limitations. He knew the impossible when it faced him.
What Daisy asked of him was impossible.
Jack didn’t even realize he’d fallen asleep on the couch until Billy’s voice woke him up.
“What the hell?”
Jack’s eyes opened and he squinted against the light. Billy stood before him wearing his work overalls. “What—” His mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton and he swallowed. “What are you doing here?”
“It’s almost ten. The shop’s been open for an hour.”
Jack was sprawled out with his feet on the coffee table, and he’d slept with his boots on. He picked his head up from the back of the couch and felt like he’d been hit with a brick. “Ah, Christ.”
“Have you been drinkin’?”
“Yeah.”
“By yourself?”
Jack stood and his stomach rolled. “Sounded like a good idea at the time.” He moved into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of orange juice. He raised it to his mouth and drank until his throat wasn’t so dry.
“Why are there only five chairs where the table used to be?” Billy asked as he looked across the hall into the dining room.
“I’m redecorating.”
Billy glanced at Jack, then returned his gaze to the five remaining chairs. “Where’s the table?”
“In the backyard with the missing chair.”
“Why?”
“I like it this way.”
He moved to the back door and looked out. He let out a low whistle and said, “Having woman trouble?”
Jack reached into a cupboard and pulled out a bottle of aspirin. Woman trouble sounded as if it were fixable. Like a little fight or squabble.
“Daisy Lee?”
“Yep. She comes back into my life. Fucks it up and leaves it that way.”
“Are you sure it’s fucked up?”
“Yeah. I’m sure.” He swallowed four aspirins and asked, “Has Nathan shown up yet?”
“Yep. Right on time.”
“Give me a few minutes to shower and shave and get my shit together, and I’ll be there.”
“Maybe you should take a day off.”
“Can’t. Nathan will be leaving in a few weeks, and I want to spend as much time with him as possible.”
It took Jack a good forty-five minutes to pull himself together enough to show up at the garage. His body ached and head pounded.
Nathan looked at him and his brows lowered. “Are you okay?”
“Yes.” Jack carefully nodded and sank into the chair behind his desk.
“Did you take too many bad hits in the game yesterday?”
“A few.” He’d taken the worst hit after the game. “What are you doing tonight?”
“I’m going bowling with Brandy Jo.” He shifted his weight to one foot and pulled his lip ring into his mouth. “I was thinking about kissing her. I think she wants me to, but I don’t want to suck at it.” His gaze stared into Jack’s and he asked, “How did you learn to kiss a girl?”
Jack smiled and his headache subsided at bit. “Lots of practice. And don’t worry about not being good at it right out of the chute. If Brandy Jo really likes you, she’ll want to practice with you.”
Nathan nodded as if that made sense. “Did you practice with my mom?”
He pretended to give it some thought, but the truth was the memory of the first time he’d kissed Daisy on her porch was imbedded in his mind, eating at his brain like acid. “No, I’d turned pro before I dated your mom.”
Nathan sat and they talked about girls and what girls liked to do besides put on makeup and shop. He was pleased to hear that Nathan was thinking about more than just how to make out with Brandy Jo. He wanted to buy her something nice and do nice things for her.
They talked about cars and Jack was surprised to hear that Nathan was over his obsession with the Dodge Daytona. He now wanted to buy a Mustang, like Jack’s Shelby. Nathan was to get his driver’s license next week. Jack saw the snow job a mile away. He’d let Nathan drive the Shelby. Not a problem, as long as Jack was in the car.
Jack spent the rest of the day at his desk trying to tune out the irritating whine of sanders and power tools. Around two o’clock, his head quit pounding, but the pain and anger in his chest remained. A constant reminder of what he’d almost had, and what he’d lost.
When Nathan came to work that Thursday, it got a whole lot worse. He mentioned that Daisy was leaving Monday for Seattle. They’d sold their house.
That night as Jack finally dealt with the mess in his backyard, he couldn’t help but think of Daisy and how she was getting on with her life. Moving forward, while he seemed forever stuck in the past.
He put all the pieces to his mother’s table in a shed on the side of the house and he stuck the chair in there too. Maybe he should move. He’d thought of it a time or two. He’d thought of converting the house into more office space. That in turn would open up more space in the garage.
Jack sat on the back porch and looked out over the yard. He couldn’t see tearing it down. The house held too many memories for him and Billy. It’s where he and Steven had dug up the time capsule and read Daisy’s diary. Right in the corner of the yard under the maple tree. It’s where they’d reburied it too.
He stood, and before he could give himself time to think better of it, he walked to the shed and grabbed a shovel. The earth was packed solid. Sweat ran down the side of his face as he dug for over an hour. It was somewhere around seven-thirty and the sun was still blazing when the end of the shovel finally hit the old red can. He exhumed it from its twenty-one-year-old hiding place. The paint was faded and it showed signs of rust. The plastic lid had turned a dull yellow but was still intact.
Jack took the can to the back porch. He sat on the top step and dumped it out. Green army men, Hans Solo and Princess Lea Star Wars figures, and a switch comb fell out first. Next, Jack’s “Dukes of Hazzard” Matchbox car, a whistle and a pack of trick gum. Daisy’
s diary, a fuzzy pink barrette, and a cheap ring with about a three-carat hunk of glass fell on top of the pile. She’d said he’d given her the ring. He didn’t remember it, though.
He picked up the ring and put it in his breast pocket. He reached for the little white book with a yellow rose on it, the lock busted from the last time he’d held it in his hands. The pages had yellowed and the ink had dulled. He leaned forward, rested his forearms on the tops of his knees, and read:
Mr. Skittles bit Lily on the nose today. I think she was trying to kiss him, Daisy had written when they’d all been in about the sixth grade. My mom put a stupid Snow White in our front yard. It’s soooooo embarrassing. Jack smiled and flipped passed references of her cat and yard decoration. He stopped when he saw his name.
Jack got in big trouble for climbing on the roof at school. He had to stay after and I think he got a whooping. He said he didn’t care, but he looked sad. It made me sad too. Steven and I walked home without him. Steven said Jack would be okay.
Jack remembered that. He hadn’t gotten whooped, but he’d had to wash all the windows in the school. His gaze skimmed past more entries about her cat, what they’d all had for dinner, and about the weather.
Jack yelled at me today. He called me a stupid girl and told me to go home. I cried and Steven told me Jack didn’t really mean it.
Jack didn’t remember that one, but if he’d yelled at her it was probably because he had a little crush on her and didn’t know what to do about it.
Steven gave me a sticker for my bike. It’s a rainbow. He says it’s too girly for his bike. Jack said it looked weird. Sometimes he hurts my feelings. Steven says he doesn’t mean to. He doesn’t have sisters.
He’d never known she was so sensitive. Well, yeah, he guessed he’d known that. But he’d never known she’d gotten upset over stuff like saying a sticker was weird.
Yesterday was Halloween. My mom made me be Annie Oakley again ’cause I haven’t outgrown the stupid costume from last year. Jack was Darth Vader and Steven dressed up as Princess Lea. Steven had big cinnamon buns over his ears to look like her. I laughed so hard I about wet myself.
Jack chuckled. He remembered that costume, but he’d forgotten most of the other things Daisy had written about. He’d also forgotten that Steven loved to tell jokes. A lot of them Daisy had jotted down in her diary. He’d forgotten that Steven was a pretty funny kid and that they’d spent hours together laughing about Mrs. Jansen walking her old dog, or their favorite episode of “The Andy Griffith Show.”
I don’t know why they talk about that show so much, Daisy had written. It’s stupid. “The Love Boat” is sooooooo much better.
Yeah, and Jack remembered he and Steven laughing about “The Love Boat” behind Daisy’s back.
The more Jack read, the more he laughed out loud at some of the things they all used to do. The more he laughed, the more he felt some of his anger subside—which surprised the hell out of him.
The more he read, the more he saw a pattern of Daisy turning to Steven when she was upset about something, or when Jack had unknowingly hurt her feelings. Last Sunday night, she’d told him that Steven was not only her husband, but her best friend. She’d said she could talk to him about anything. That she and Steven had laughed and cried together.
Jack wasn’t the type of guy who cried. Instead he stuffed everything deep until it disappeared. Only it didn’t. Daisy had been right. They couldn’t be together if he couldn’t get past his anger. Yes, he had a right to it, but being right was very lonely.
Jack shut the diary and looked out over his backyard. He had two choices. He could live the rest of his life with a chest full of anger and bitterness. Alone. Or he could move on. Like Daisy had said. At the time she’d said it, it hadn’t seemed possible. Now he felt the glimmer of something in the pit of his soul.
Yeah, Daisy and Steven had kept his child a secret. Yeah, that sucked, but he couldn’t let it eat at him any longer. He had to let it go or he was afraid he’d die a bitter and lonely old man. He hadn’t known Nathan for the first fifteen years of his life, but Jack figured he had a good fifty or so ahead of him. And he had to decide how he wanted to spend those years.
He stood and shoved everything back into the old coffee can. He walked back into his house and took the letter Steven had written him from the drawer he’d tossed it in. This time when he read it, he read something he’d missed the first time. Steven wrote about the two of them and how much he’d missed Jack over the years. He talked about loving Daisy and Nathan. He ended by asking Jack’s forgiveness. He asked Jack to let go of his bitterness and to get on with his life. And for the first time in fifteen years, Jack was going to try to do just that.
He didn’t have a plan. He just thought of his life, and he didn’t try to stop the memories. Good or bad. He didn’t tap them down or shut them out.
He felt every damn one of them.
Friday after work, he asked Nathan to follow him into his office. They stood next to each other as he pulled out the coffee can and handed Nathan the switch comb. “This was your dad’s when he was in sixth grade,” he said without a trace of anger. “I thought you might like to have it.”
Nathan pushed the button on the handle, and surprisingly it sprang open. He combed the side of his hair. “Sweet.” Nathan took the Star Wars figures but decided against the green army men.
“You’re getting your license Monday, right?”
“Yeah. Mom says I can drive her Caravan sometimes.” He frowned. “I told her, no way.”
“It’s hard to be cool in a Caravan.” Jack tried and failed not to smile. “Hard to burn ’em off.”
Nathan shook his head. “She just doesn’t get it.”
Jack grabbed the coffee can and wrapped an arm around Nathan’s shoulders. Together they walked from the office. “And she won’t either.”
“’Cause she’s a girl.”
“No, son. Because she’s not a Parrish.” At least not yet.
“Mom! Guess what?” Nathan said the second he walked into the back of the house. “Jack let me drive the Shelby. Sweet!”
Daisy was up to her elbows in cake frosting. She was throwing a party for Pippen, who’d gone three days without peeing in his pull-ups. “What? You’ll kill yourself.”
“He was very safe,” Jack said from the doorway. “He even reminded me to put on my seat belt.”
At the sight of him standing there in a pair of khaki pants and a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, her heart seemed to squeeze and swell all at the same time.
His gaze met hers and something hot and vital simmered in his eyes. When he spoke, it was low and sexy. “Good evenin’, Daisy Lee,” he said, and the velvet in his voice seemed to reach across the distance and touch her.
There was definitely something different about him tonight, but before she could respond, Lily hobbled into the kitchen on crutches. “Hey, Jack. How’s it goin’?”
He turned to Lily and whatever had been between Daisy and Jack evaporated like a heat mirage. “Hey, Lily. Hot enough for ya?”
“Shoot. It’s hotter than a honeymoon hotel.” She moved to the counter and looked in the mixing bowl. “Did you drop by for Pippen’s potty party?” Lily stuck her finger into the cake frosting, then licked it clean.
“Yes, Jackson, you have to stay,” Louella insisted as she walked from her bedroom into the kitchen. “We bought coonskin hats for everyone, and we’ll eat off Thomas the Tank Engine plates.”
Nathan moaned as if in severe pain and Jack looked at his son as if he sympathized. But he said, “I’d love to stay, Miz Brooks. Thank you.” He moved to the counter next to Daisy, and the sleeve of his shirt brushed her arm as he tasted her frosting. He licked it off and looked down into her gaze. “Mmm, that’s good, buttercup.” Then he bent down and whispered into her ear, “I wanna lick this off your thighs.”
“Jack!”
He chuckled and grabbed her hand. “If y’all will excuse us for a few minutes,
I need to talk to Daisy.” He pulled her behind him out the back door. As soon as the door shut behind them, he drew her against him and lowered his mouth to hers. The kiss was sweet and gentle and so heartbreaking she pulled away.
“I’ve missed you, Daisy,” he said.
“Jack, don’t. This has been so difficult for me.”
He pressed his finger to her lips. “Let me finish.” He dropped his hand to the side of her neck and looked into her eyes. “I’m in love with you. It feels like I’ve been in love with you my whole life. You’re it for me, Daisy. You always have been.” His thumb lightly brushed her jaw. “Over the years, I’ve held on to a whole stomachful of anger and bitterness. I blamed you and Steven for everything, when the truth is, I had a hand in what happened to us. I still don’t like that I wasn’t around when Nathan was growing up, but I just have to believe things happened the way they did for a reason. I can’t fight it or argue with it or hold on to it. I’m just letting it go. Like you said.”
“Are you sure you can do that?”
“I’m tired of being mad at you,” he said as if he meant it. “And I’m tired of being mad at Steven too. I loved Steven when we were kids. We were buddies. In the letter he wrote to me, he asked if I ever missed him.” Jack took a deep breath, then cleared his throat. “I’ve missed the Steven I grew up with every day. He’s gone, and I can’t hate a dead man.” His paused and his gaze skimmed her face. “Remember the first night you came to my house and I told you I’d make your life a misery?”
She smiled. He’d broken her heart, and now he was fixing it. “Yes.”
“I want you to forget I ever said that, because I want to spend the rest of your life trying to make you happy.” He fished around in his breast pocket and pulled out a cheap little ring. The gold was chipped off the band and the glass “diamond” had dulled. He reached for her hand and placed it in her palm. “I gave you this ring when we were in the sixth grade. If you’ll have me, Daisy, I’ll buy you a real one.”
Her mouth fell open. “This is the ring I put in the time capsule.”
“Yeah. I dug it back up the other day. I have your diary too.” His fingers brushed the side of her throat. “Marry me, Daisy Lee.”
Daisy's Back in Town Page 26
