Daisy’s iced over expression began to soften.
“My clothes were chosen for me, my opinions had to be Cavanaugh opinions and Cavanaugh opinions only.” She paused to steal one of Daisy’s French fries, which pulled a smile to Daisy’s face. “I was told what I liked and what I didn’t without any room in-between for my own thoughts. The only thing I knew I really liked was bein’ with Shannon.” Daisy took a bite from her burger and smeared ketchup on her mouth. “So, Miss Daisy…” Chelsea thumbed the sauce away. “… I do like the way you dress. I’m just not used to it, is all.”
“They put you on a diet?” Daisy mumbled.
“Mmhm,” Chelsea hummed. She pointed at the mountain-shaped chocolate cake on the dessert display on the side of their table. “But not anymore. Will you eat that with me?”
“Absolutely,” Daisy chimed. Her raspy voice broke into a laugh as she looked across the table at Chelsea. Her dark, dark eyes shone brighter, and her expression looked raw and hopeful. “I’m sorry I’m an asshole.”
Chelsea snickered, which probably made her face scrunch into an unattractive toothy snarl. “Don’t be sorry. Just try to understand that I like you…” She flicked her index finger up and down. “… all of you. And I like this, us, talking to you. Just know you aren’t goin’ to run me off, all right?”
Daisy nodded. She cleared her throat. “I like the way you dress,” she admitted with shyness creeping back into her voice. “It suits you.”
“I’m more relaxed now that I don’t have my parents breathin’ down my neck. Still feel stuffy sometimes though.” The top of her tan sleeveless blouse was smoothed and tucked. She looked at her lap where a napkin covered her skirt and reached up to loop her finger through the chain attached to her old locket. Sometimes it seemed to tighten, choking the life out of her. She ignored it. “Was it hard growing up with all those people in one house?”
“Sometimes, yeah.” Daisy shoved a couple of French fries in her mouth, pausing to chew. “I mean, the worst part was Grandma’s home remedies, still not as bad as my dad’s parents’ who live in China. You ever been?”
“To China?”
Daisy nodded.
Chelsea shook her head.
“We’ll go,” Daisy said, as if it was easy, as if it was expected. “My grandparents live east of Shanghai in Suzhou; it’s really, really beautiful there. Do you like architecture?”
Chelsea smiled. She could listen to Daisy talk for hours, days even. “Yes, I do.”
“Suzhou is full of bridges and canals. It looks antique, charming, I guess. At night the buildings light up, and the whole city reflects off the water. My grandma and grandpa live in one of the small neighborhoods near Shantang Street. They have a little boat and a garden. My grandma.” Daisy stopped to laugh. “She’ll try to convince you that Chinese medicine is the only true form of medicine. You’ll get a kick out of her.”
“I bet I will,” Chelsea whispered, watching Daisy’s mouth work around syllables. The waiter came, and Daisy stopped him to order the ridiculous cake Chelsea had pointed out. “Separate check for that, please,” she added, and Chelsea didn’t try to argue. “We’ll go to the museums in Shanghai. I’ll take you to see the Jade Buddha. You’ll love it.”
“Can you teach me how to say something in Chinese?”
“Mandarin,” Daisy corrected, smiling gently. “I can try, but you’ll probably butcher it.”
“I certainly will, but,” Chelsea shrugged, “teach me somethin’.”
Daisy said something delicate and short. Chelsea had heard people speak other languages, Spanish and Japanese, French and German, but she’d never had the chance to sit and have Mandarin spoken to her—slowed down, stretched open into one sound after another.
She tried to repeat it, and Daisy barked a laugh, covering her mouth to keep quiet.
“Don’t make fun,” Chelsea snapped. “Again, say it again.”
Daisy said the word again, quicker this time.
Chelsea tried again.
Daisy bowed her head. “Better.”
“What’s it mean?”
She hesitated, but eventually answered. “Moonflower.”
“What’s a moonflower?”
“Ask Aiden, he’s the plant guy.”
“I will then,” Chelsea said. She leaned back as the waiter set a plate full of chocolate cake and vanilla ice cream between them.
The first pop of a firework went off outside.
Daisy gathered a forkful of cake and held it in front of Chelsea’s mouth. “Fuck diets.”
Chelsea lifted a brow. She chomped down on the fork and grinned around it.
They finished the cake down to the last crumb. Daisy fixed her lipstick, and they walked into the middle of the crowd as music blasted from speakers hidden around the mall. Fireworks exploded above them, shattering the night sky into streaks of red and fissures of yellow, dazzling cracks of green sparks and blue smoke. Daisy stood in front of Chelsea so the back of her head rested against Chelsea’s collarbone.
Is this what it’s like to look into a labyrinth and see no way out?
Chelsea watched the light from the fireworks dance across the elegant lines of Daisy’s face.
Is this what it’s like to walk into a maze and never want to leave?
Daisy was a woman full of hallways and dead-ends, empty rooms and locked doors.
Chelsea wanted to get lost.
16
July in Laguna Beach meant tourists hustling and bustling up and down main street, crowded seaside bars, impossible parking, and midday tanning sessions at the beach next to the apartment. Daisy slathered sunscreen over her legs, stomach, and shoulders. Shannon got the parts of her back she couldn’t reach and double-knotted her turquoise bikini top for her. Meanwhile, Aiden and Chelsea argued over what they should pack in the cooler besides beer.
“Salads and sandwiches are fine,” Chelsea said through an exaggerated groan.
“We can pack snacks and get sushi across the street when it gets too hot,” Aiden argued. “We don’t need to bring a bunch of shit we aren’t going to eat.”
Chelsea snarled at him. “Fine, it’s your cooler, do what you want. But bring carrots,” she paused, then added, “with ranch.”
Daisy grabbed Mercy’s pink harness from the coffee table. “Your camera’s charged, right?” She looked at Aiden and he glanced up from his phone and nodded. “Because we need to take more pictures. I feel like I don’t have any of us,” she gestured between her and Aiden, “or us…” She gestured to her and Shannon, her and Chelsea, and, with a flail of her arm. “… any of us, all of us.”
“I’ll take some,” Aiden assured.
They walked down the concrete stairs to the sidewalk, then down another concrete staircase to the beach. Unlike Main or Aliso Creek, which were packed with people from all over the world, Mountain Road was a quiet retreat for many locals. At night, the tide came in and waves smashed against the bottom of the stairs, but during the day it was a private getaway for the group. Golden sand stretched in both directions, with a lifeguard tower perched on a segment of black rock to the right and a peace garden overlooking the sand on the left.
They picked a secluded spot down the beach, spread out their towels, and got comfortable. Daisy stretched out next to Mercy, who rolled around in the warm sand, with Chelsea on her other side.
“Get in the water with me,” Shannon said.
Daisy had her eyes closed. She heard Aiden protest with a short whine, but it didn’t last long. Soon enough the boys were gone, leaving Chelsea and Mercy to keep her company.
The sun beat down on Daisy’s back, warming her shoulders and the back of her legs. She lay her cheek on her folded arms and looked at Chelsea from behind the safety of her sunglasses. Chelsea looked as if she belonged on a beach—as though she could be an advertisement for the experie
nce. Her skin was tanned and coated in glittering lotion. Her hair was bundled into a messy bun on the top of her head, loose tendrils floated around her face.
Chelsea sighed, contentedly and softly, before she said, “Listen to music with me,” and handed Daisy one side of her headphones.
It wasn’t what Daisy expected. There weren’t cowbells and banjos, whiny cowboys or Jesus Take the Wheel. Chelsea listened to a lot of acoustic music, coffee shop stuff, with soulful lyrics and swoony voices. A few times a classical song came on that she skipped over, or something that sounded like indie-pop would start to play and Chelsea would huff, embarrassed, and change the song.
After an hour, the boys returned. Mercy had fallen asleep on top of the cooler, and everyone was uncomplicated and drowsy. The women had turned to face each other, lying on their sides atop both towels. Chelsea’s fingertips played with Daisy’s hands, and her eyes had slipped shut as she mouthed the words to a slow song about the resurrection of a broken heart. Daisy felt her breath on the tip of her nose.
Something pulled at her then, a sudden sadness from far away made itself known.
Chelsea is a very lonely person.
The music on her phone said so; the look on her face said so; the way she didn’t know what to do with Daisy’s hand but kept trying to do something said so.
“Hungry?” Daisy asked. She moved a stray piece of hair behind Chelsea’s ear, because it was there, asking to be tucked, and her face was there, asking to be touched.
Someone behind her shifted. She heard rustling, Shannon’s voice, and then Aiden hushing him.
Chelsea tilted her head up a fraction, leaning into the brush of Daisy’s palm against her cheek. “Yeah, starving.”
“Aiden wants to go to the little Japanese place up the street. Do you like sushi?”
“Yeah, I remember him mentioning that. I do. Do you?”
“I do.”
“Do you want to go then?” Chelsea’s index finger dragged down the underside of Daisy’s chin.
Daisy wanted to say something witty, but instead she simply said, “No.”
Chelsea’s eyes crinkled. Her lips spread into a heartfelt grin. Daisy hadn’t seen Chelsea smile like that, all teeth, nostrils flaring. It made her look younger, less like autumn and more like spring.
A warm hand pressed against Daisy’s shoulder. “You’re burnt,” Aiden said.
“Am I?” Daisy didn’t want to look away from Chelsea, so she didn’t.
“Yeah, put more sunscreen on,” Aiden said.
A bottle landed next to her head.
“I really am hungry,” Chelsea mumbled, dipping her fingers through Daisy’s knuckles. “The beach will be here all summer.”
Daisy said, “The beach will.”
Chelsea’s smile faded at the tone of her voice; the question she hadn’t asked was blatantly there, pressing invisible talons into them both.
Will you?
“I’m fucking hungry,” Aiden growl-whined, lying half on top of Shannon, half in the sand, “can we please go get food?”
“We don’t need to bring a bunch of shit we won’t end up eating,” Chelsea mocked.
Aiden threw a handful of sand at her.
“Fine, let’s go,” Daisy said. “We’ll drop Mercy off on the way.”
They brushed off the sand, slipped on the beach clothes they’d packed, and headed for the stairs. Chelsea stayed quiet, her gaze moving restlessly from her feet to the ocean, the stairs to the sky.
Daisy reached for Chelsea’s hand. Chelsea immediately laced their fingers together.
Chelsea hadn’t mentioned leaving, not once. Still, Daisy wanted assurance. Daisy wanted commitment—even if the word scared the absolute shit out of her.
Commitment.
“What’re you gonna have at the sushi place?” Chelsea asked softly.
Daisy thought of every time she’d asked Vance for a title, a status change on Facebook, a promise ring. The concept of commitment was distant and unreachable.
C’mon Vance just come meet my parents.
C’mon Vance just stay a little longer.
C’mon Vance just don’t put your fucking mouth on my best friend.
“Udon,” Daisy said, shaking herself awake again.
The boys trailed in front of them, bumping shoulders and laughing.
“You okay, Miss Daisy?” Chelsea asked. Shyness wrapped tight around the question.
“Yeah,” Daisy lied, and squeezed Chelsea’s hand, “I’m fine.”
Don’t run away.
Two days later Daisy sat on the couch in the apartment, staring at her computer screen. It rang like a telephone and beeped at her as the blank image turned into a mess of huddled faces.
“Daisy?” Her mother, Violet, shoved her face too close to the camera. “I can’t see you. Why can’t I see you? Marigold, why I can’t see your sister?”
“Sit back, Ma,” Daisy said. She clicked on the speaker and turned up the volume.
“Hi, Mari, hi, Jasmine, hi, Jun, hi, Liko, hi, Ma, hi, Grandma. Hey, where’s, oh, hi, Dad.” Daisy inhaled a breath and waved at the screen, where her family waved back at her. Her sisters, Marigold and Jasmine, were seven-year-old twins. The boys, Jun and Liko were older, fourteen and sixteen.
“Mom said it’s a girl,” Jun, who had dyed his hair electric blue, shouted. He loomed over the twins. “Is she hot?”
“I bet she’s super-weird like you,” Liko chimed in. He winked at the screen. They were the closest, probably because he was the second-oldest.
“Why are we video chatting? We live right down the street; just come home!” That was Grandma, who peeked in next to Violet’s head. She had gray hair, bundled and smoothed into three knots on the back of her head. Wrinkles spanned her pudgy cheeks, deep beside her mouth, and shallow around her eyes. “I have things for you, Daisy, things to help with this new woman of yours.”
Daisy groaned.
“Did you put a mirror in your bedroom to keep out bad spirits?”
“Yes, Grandma.”
Violet whispered, “She lives with Aiden, Mom; he is a bad spirit.”
“Ma!” Daisy scolded.
Her grandma bent close to the screen. “Are you wearing jade?”
Daisy threw her head back and heaved a sigh.
“Boiling ginger with turmeric makes love strong. Strain over ice with—”
“Rosemary, rose hips, ginger ale, and gin,” Daisy and her two brothers said in unison, “we know.”
“No gin for you two,” Grandma amended, eyeing them. “Come home, Daisy! I want to meet this girl!” And then Grandma was gone, waddling somewhere offscreen, probably into the kitchen to make tea.
Her family wasn’t wrong. Daisy could’ve driven the twenty minutes inland to see them, but that would mean questions she wouldn’t be able to avoid, humiliation she wasn’t ready for, and the—probably not, but could happen—what if of running into Vance’s older brother. Not that it mattered—Vance was Vance. His older brother had nothing to do with him. Neither did his mother, who’d lived on the same street as the Yuens for ten years. That didn’t make running into them any easier.
“You said she’s in the medical field. Is she a nurse?” Her father, Lee, inquired, settling in beside Violet.
“She’s a doctor,” Daisy said.
Her mother and father made pleased noises.
“She comes from a family of doctors, and she was raised in a small town in Georgia.”
“Show me a picture,” Violet said. Her long black hair got in the way of her waving at the screen, so she tucked it behind her ears.
“Just open up Facebook, Mom; it’s right there online for you to see.”
Violet rolled her eyes. “I don’t have the Facebook, Daisy.”
Daisy snapped in Mandarin, “Get one of the
boys to show you!”
Liko howled, pacing in the background as he looked at his phone. “This is her? Chelsea, right? Holy shit, Daisy!”
Their mother grumbled, “Watch your language.”
Liko had short, spiked black hair and lighter eyes than the rest of the family. He arched a brow, which she noticed had been pierced; he had two holes empty of jewelry above and below his eyebrow. She sent him a quick text. Pierced it yourself? He nodded at her on screen and winked again.
“Yeah, that’s Chelsea,” Daisy said.
“The Camellia Clock put you with this rich piece of ass?”
Violet swatted Liko on the back of the head. “Manners!”
“Yeah, don’t call my…” Girlfriend? “Don’t call her that, you little shit. How’s summer school? You making up the credits you missed?”
“He’s failing gym,” Jun said, elbowing Liko in the shoulder.
Liko winced and shot Daisy a withering look.
She sent another text. What’s going on with you, bro?
Liko Yuen 7/16 6:09 p.m.
I don’t like people seeing my binder. I’m gonna join track to fill in for it.
Daisy nodded at him on screen, and he nodded back.
“Your brothers are fine,” Violet said, swatting them away. “Go clean your room! Your sister will visit soon, won’t she?”
“Yes, Ma,” Daisy said softly. “I’m sorry I haven’t stopped by lately, I’ve been busy with work and Chelsea and the boys. It’s been great, but tough.”
“Are you happy, my first flower?” Lee asked. Daisy looked most like her father: same hawkish nose and same small chin.
“I am your first flower,” Violet corrected smugly.
“Right, my second flower then,” Lee said.
Daisy nodded. “I’m fine, Dad. I’m happy, yeah, or something. I don’t know.”
The twins were babbling to one another about being hungry.
“Come home, Daisy,” Violet said sternly. “And bring that pretty thing with you, that Chelsea.” She said Chelsea the same way she would say the name of a fine restaurant or a luxury hotel. “I want to meet my daughter’s Rose Road.”
Curved Horizon Page 12
