by Sabrina Sol
Where to start? She wanted to know so much. She wanted to know why her mother left them and whether he’d tried to stop her. She wanted to know how he could make Daisy go to her mother’s new husband’s house and pretend that she didn’t hate her, didn’t despise her. She wanted to know all those things, but she just asked him the same question as before.
“Why did you ever marry her?”
He sighed as he looked around the kitchen. “She was a different person before we got married. Besides being beautiful, she was smart. Much smarter than me. Funny, back then I always used to be afraid that one day she’d figure out she could do better and break up with me. I just never thought she’d do it after we were married, or after we had a baby.”
His hand gripped hers and she looked away before he could see the tears she knew brimmed her eyes. “I never wanted you to know this, but maybe you should so you can finally realize that she didn’t leave because you weren’t a good enough daughter.”
One tear finally escaped—just like her secret.
Her father continued. “Even though you never said it, I knew that’s what you thought back then. And I know that’s what you still think. But you’re wrong. Your mother was never cut out to be a mother. She left because she knew that you deserved better than what she could ever give you.”
Daisy wiped away the tear. “Sorry, Dad, but that’s crap. That’s just the excuse she uses because she feels guilty for leaving us.”
“It’s not crap, Daisy. Your mother told me she didn’t want kids even before we got married.”
The words shook her. “She actually said that to you?”
“She did. Many times. But I was young and in love and I thought that once we were married she’d change her mind. You have to remember, it was a different time back then. I’d never heard of a woman who didn’t want to be a mother. I thought those feelings would go away. But they didn’t.”
“Then why did you have me?”
“We’d been married for seven years already and I guess she was tired of me asking, of her mother asking, of her abuelita asking. So one day I come home from work and she’s not home. There’s no dinner waiting for me, no note. Nothing. I call everyone we know and nobody has seen her all day. Finally, around eight o’clock or something, she comes walking through the door with a suitcase. She’d taken a bus all the way to Santa Barbara, but when she got there she realized she didn’t know what to do next. So she got back on the bus and came home to me.”
“What did you do?”
“That night, I didn’t do anything. But the next day, I came home early from work and we sat down and talked. She said she wanted to get a job and I said I wanted to have a baby. So we talked about it some more and she agreed to have a baby as long as she could get a job when you started school. And that’s what happened. Your first day of kindergarten she found a part-time job working at the appliance store and, well…”
And two years later, her mother left her father for the owner’s son and became the store’s manager. The only thing she took from their marriage was a set of dishes. She’d left everything else—including Daisy—with her ex-husband.
“I know you blame your mother for a lot of things, mija. But it was my fault, too.”
“How can you even say that, Dad?”
“Because I pushed her to be a mother. She always thought she was meant for a different life than the one I gave her. I think it ate at her every day. Of course she was miserable here.”
“Fine. Maybe I can kind of see why she needed to leave in the first place. But that doesn’t make up for how she was when I was older. How she still is.”
“You have to accept that you and her are never going to have a real mother and daughter relationship. But she’s still your blood, and maybe you can have a different kind of relationship. And, one day, I hope you can finally forgive her. I have.”
“You have?”
“It took me a long time, mija. A very long time. Maybe if I could’ve forgiven her sooner, then I could’ve been a better father to you.”
She opened her mouth to argue, but he held up his hand so he could finish talking. “I loved you so much, but I didn’t know what to do with you. So I worked and made sure that I could buy you things and send you to college. I thought your tias could help with the other stuff but I know now I should’ve been around more.”
“It wasn’t that bad.”
“Maybe. But I know it could’ve been better.”
“I can’t believe you’re not angry at her anymore.”
“How can I be angry at someone who gave me the greatest joy in my life…you.”
Her tears fell freely now, and Daisy wiped them away with a laugh. “Geeze, Dad. Now my pozole is going to be salty from all these tears.”
“Just add some more lemon and it will be perfect again.”
They hugged and then went back to eating. “I guess I can call her next week then,” she said softly.
“Whenever you’re ready.” He paused for a few seconds. “What about Brandon?”
That had been her dad’s first question, too, when she’d told him about the baby. She’d cried, of course. And perhaps her tears had been the reason why he hadn’t exploded when she also told him about the fake engagement. But she would’ve welcomed that reaction instead of the deafening silence he put her through for the next two days. It had been Teresa, apparently, who’d finally made him call her so they could talk about things. She knew she’d hurt him with her deception.
It had taken some time to get back to being like this with each other again. The mention of Brandon, though, made her worry that the conversation was going to take a very different turn.
She paused before answering her dad’s question. “What about him? I talked to him last night to tell him about my doctor’s appointment.”
“No, I mean when are you going to stop being angry at Brandon.”
“Have you stopped being angry at Brandon?”
Her dad sighed. “I was angry when I thought he’d abandoned you. But now that I know he’s planning to take care of this baby, I’m not angry anymore. And you?”
She moved her spoon around the bowl. “I’m not angry at Brandon either.”
He sighed again. “Your face gets red and your body stiffens whenever you say his name. You’re not a little girl anymore, Daisy. It’s time to stop playing these games.”
Daisy finally looked up at her dad. “What games?”
“The games where you pretend you don’t have feelings for him. Maybe you weren’t really going to get married, but I know you. And I could see that you cared about him, and I could see he cared about you.”
“Maybe that’s true. But whatever we had, it wasn’t enough. It’s too late.”
“Basta! It’s never too late if you love someone. You need to tell him what you’re feeling and then forgive him.”
“Forgive him for being who he’s always been? He didn’t promise me anything, and he sure didn’t expect this,” she said, pointing to her stomach. “You just told me how miserable mom was because you forced her to have me. Why would I want to do the same thing to him and my baby?”
“Brandon and your mother are two different people. You know Brandon wants to be a father. He’s already proving it. I’m not saying I want you to force him into anything.”
“Then what are you saying?”
“I’m saying it’s time to be honest with him about how you feel about him. You’re angry because he left. But did you give him a reason, besides the baby, to stay? You need to tell him that you’re in love with him, mija.”
She winced in surprise. “Did you talk to Mira or something?”
“No, why?”
“Because she said the same thing.”
“See, I knew I liked her. It’s the truth, right?”
She nodded just as her eyes watered with another round of tears. “I’m scared, Daddy. I’m scared that he’ll never love me the way that I love him. He’s this beautiful, rich, successf
ul man who has been all over the world, and parties with movie stars and models. He has this exciting and amazing life. Why would he ever choose me over that?”
“Aye, mija. You don’t give yourself, or him, enough credit. Love is more than all of those things. You’re scared now, but think of how you’ll feel if you never tell him—if you don’t fight for what you want. I may not have taught you things when you were a little girl, but I want you to learn from me now. I’ve lived my life full of regret and it’s made me miss out on so much. Please, mija, don’t be like me.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Alex!”
Brandon stalked through the dilapidated building searching for his sister, kicking up dust and scraps of trash along the way.
“Alex!” Anger burned through him, heating his blood and making every muscle tighten until it ached. He’d been in Miami for nearly three weeks now, and everything that could go wrong with the project had. The cost to renovate the building seemed to double every day due to the number of problems his project manager kept discovering. He’d had enough.
“Alex!”
“What!” His sister came running inside and met him in the kitchen area.
“I’ve been looking all over you. Where were you?”
“I had to make a phone call and the signal is better outside. What’s wrong?”
“I fired Raphael.”
“What? Are you freaking crazy? He’s been working on this project for you for months. What happened?”
What didn’t happen would probably be the better question. Would anything ever go right on this project?
“He just told me that I may have to rethink my idea about a water fountain in the front because they dug up some of the patio tiles and realized the electrical access isn’t as clear cut as the original blueprints showed.”
Alexa shrugged. “So? It’s not his fault if the old blueprints are, you know, old. That’s no reason to fire him.”
“I didn’t fire him for that. I fired him because he told me that he quit.”
His sister’s eyes widened and her mouth dropped. “Oh my God, Brandon. What did you do?”
Why did she automatically think he’d done something wrong?
“Nothing. I just told him that I was pissed off about these new problems and that he should’ve figured all of this out before I spent so much money buying this shitty building.”
“And?”
“And I told him that if one more thing went wrong, I’d make sure he’d never work on a restaurant project in this town again. So he called me an asshole and told me he quit. So I said he couldn’t quit because he was fired.”
Alex shook her head and sighed. “Dammit, Brandon. You need to fix this. Do you know how long it’s going to take to find a new project manager and construction company and get them up to speed on everything that needs to happen by our first inspection?”
“Then we delay the opening—or we don’t open at all.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that maybe it’s not worth it. This building is a mess, and I just don’t know if it’s worth all of the additional money it’s going to take to get it to where it should be. So maybe I should cut my losses now, sell the fucking thing, and go back to L.A.”
Alex nodded as if she knew something he didn’t. “Let me guess. This is because you talked to Daisy yesterday.”
The mention of Daisy twisted his muscles into a tighter knot. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“It has everything to do with this. You’ve been kind of a jerk since we got here, but you’ve been an absolute monster since that phone call. What happened?”
He pulled a folding chair over from the corner and sat down. The magnitude of his argument with Raphael and everything else that had happened over the past few days weighed him down. He rubbed his eyes and then put his head in hands.
The sound of another chair being dragged across the cracked linoleum made his head hurt even more. Then he felt a hand on his shoulder.
“Tell me, Brandon. What happened with Daisy?” his sister asked softly.
He shrugged. “I don’t know what happened with Daisy. That’s the problem.”
“What did she tell you?”
“Not much. She had her appointment yesterday with her new doctor. Her regular doctor had told her that she was going to be retiring before the baby was born so she referred her to someone else. Daisy says she likes the new doctor and that everything is fine and that she goes back next month.”
“Oh. Well, that’s good. I don’t understand then. What’s wrong? And don’t tell me nothing’s wrong because since we’ve been in Miami, you’ve fired Pilar, the interior decorator, me a few times, and now Raphael.”
“I don’t know how to explain it. The last time I talked to Daisy back in L.A., it was weird, like we were polite strangers. And it was the same yesterday.”
There was an uncomfortableness between them now, and it was obvious that both were choosing their words carefully.
He looked at his sister. “And that’s not us, Alex. I just wish I could fix it so things could go back to how they were before.”
“You can’t go back. After everything that’s happened, you’re not the same person you were before, and neither is she.”
“Well, she’s definitely not the same. But I don’t think I’ve changed.”
“Are you kidding me? You used to love every single little thing that went into opening a new restaurant. Now, it’s like you hate it. Like it’s something you have to do, not something you want to do. And the old Brandon would’ve already rented a place here in Miami. Instead you’re living out of a suitcase at a hotel. Why? Because Miami isn’t your home and I don’t think you ever want it to be your home.”
He laughed bitterly. “I thought you knew better, little sister. I’m Brandon Montoya. My home is wherever my restaurant is.”
Alex patted him on the back and gave him a slight smirk. “Not anymore, big brother. We both know that your home is back in L.A. with Daisy and your baby.”
He stood up and walked around the dark and dank kitchen. As he studied the grease-covered walls and curtains of cobwebs, he realized Alex was right. He hated this place. But not because it looked like a disaster. For all his ranting and raving, he knew there was potential underneath. No, he hated it because he knew that Daisy would probably never even set foot in it.
He turned to face his sister and covered his gaping mouth with one hand. No wonder he’d been such an asshole in Miami. The project wasn’t the one falling apart. He was.
Brandon raised his arms, clasped his hands together, and dropped them on top of his head. Then he closed his eyes and let out a deep breath.
“I think I love her, Alex,” he announced.
“You think?”
“Well, I’ve never been in love before. How do I know for sure?”
She spit out a laugh. “Don’t ask me. Given the number of boyfriends I’ve kicked to the curb in the past year, it’s obvious I don’t know either. You know there’s only person in our family who can help you figure this out, right?”
He nodded. His mamá had always said that she loved their father from the moment she first met him. And even though he’d been gone for more than twenty years, that love hadn’t dimmed one bit. His heart hurt thinking about the deep anguish she must live with every day because their father wasn’t with her.
He’d never understood that anguish until now. It was exactly how he’d been feeling ever since Daisy had left him.
Brandon realized he didn’t need to ask his mamá how he could figure out if he really loved Daisy. He already knew.
And that made his head hurt all over again. Things between them had gone to shit. He couldn’t just show up and tell her what he’d discovered. Based on who he was and how he’d lived until this moment, she’d never believe him.
Brandon went back to the chair and sat down. “What am I going to do, Alex? How do I make things right? I know Daisy. She’s
going to think I want to be with her only because she’s pregnant. How can I convince her it’s more than that?”
“Like I said before, I’m definitely not the expert when it comes to things like this. But I’ve gotten to know Daisy over the past year, and it seems to me that she’s not the kind of girl who needs big showy declarations of feelings. The more meaningful and from the heart, the better.”
“So, do the exact opposite of what I think I should do?”
“Yeah, pretty much.” When he groaned, she threw one arm around his shoulder. “Seriously, Brandon. If you love her like we both think you do, deep down you’ll know how to tell her.”
That may be so. But what he didn’t tell Alex was how fucking scared he was when he thought about the many different things she might tell him back.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Christian Santos and Mira Alvarez were married at sunset underneath a white canopy on the grounds of the Downtown Los Angeles Public Library. It was a beautiful and intimate ceremony attended by only about fifty of their closest friends and family.
Luckily, tabloid reporters and paparazzi missed the entire thing, since multiple anonymous tips had falsely led them to the backyard of a Malibu beach house, which coincidentally also had a white canopy and about fifty people standing around it.
As Daisy helped event staff untie floral displays from around the tent, she smiled to herself.
She’d done it. She’d pulled off a major celebrity wedding in only a few weeks. That had to be a record in Hollywood. Even more important, though, were the looks on Christian’s and Mira’s faces when they hugged her before they left to take photos inside the historic building. They thanked her over and over again for giving them the perfect wedding, and that’s why she couldn’t stop smiling. Or crying.
God, she was a hormonal mess.
Daisy wiped her eyes and untied the last floral display. She arranged it in a box with the others and asked one of her helpers to take it to the reception area. But just as she was about to tell him to be careful and not smash the arrangements, Brandon walked through the wall of sheer fabric draped at the tent’s entrance.
