by Louise, Tia
My lips press together, fighting a smile.
“What? You’re leaving?” He catches her arm, and my smile is forgotten. He’d better watch how he touches her. “I thought we could talk more.”
She glances at the group before pulling him aside. I don’t move.
“I’m sorry, Travis, it’s like I said, I’m not really available right now.” Her voice is quiet, and I’m not sure how I feel about that statement. “I’m glad you’re doing so well. I hope you continue to grow.”
She gives him a brief hug and steps away, and I step up quickly. “I’ll walk you out.”
My eyes clash with Travis’s, and he seems to get the hint. “See you around, Daisy.”
We make our way to the back exit, but she doesn’t linger in the parking lot.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“I’ll be there at ten.”
“Right.” She waves, practically jogging to her Bronco.
“You’re still driving that old thing?”
Hesitating at the door, she looks from it to me. “My dad gave it to me.”
I get it. It’s a sentimental thing, a gift from her dad. I wait as she hops in and drives away, and I’m very aware of my brother watching the whole thing.
“What were you saying about luck?” His voice has a tone.
Pulling my gaze from the fading tail lights, I shrug. “Nothing’s ever a sure thing.”
“True.” We walk to his shiny black pickup. “But some things are a little closer than others.”
I hesitate for one last look before climbing inside. “I’ve learned never to get too comfortable.”
“You just got burned. All that shit’s behind you.”
I want to believe he’s right, but you never know when the other shoe’s going to drop.
Twenty-Two
Daisy
“I’m telling you, I almost passed out when I saw him.” I try to shake the trembling out of my hands as I cross the smooth pine floors of my loft apartment above the store. “For a minute I really thought we might have conjured him with that spell.”
“Who’s to say we didn’t?” Sly crunches loudly in my ear.
“What are you eating?” I frown at the phone.
“Brittle. And I repeat, who’s to say we didn’t?”
“Did you get it from those nice ladies at the grocery store? They have the best peanut brittle, I swear to God.”
“They would not like you swearing to God, and yes, I did. Bless that poor girl’s heart with those bangs.”
Covering my mouth with my hand, I try not to laugh, and I end up snorting. Then we both laugh louder. “Stop! This is serious. I can’t stop shaking.”
“It is serious!” My cousin cries. “We conjured a man with our lost and found spell! The Palm is Sacred!”
“Sly!” I fill the kettle with water and switch it on. “Focus! He’s going to be in my store tomorrow morning.”
“Ooo… You didn’t tell me that.”
Her voice is ominous, and I swallow the knot in my throat. “He said he wanted to come by, and I figured… We brought him here. It’s time.”
“What time is Donna bringing Melody home?”
“I expect around ten-ish, but Melody’s too little to care. He’d just as soon be Chad or André.” My brow furrows. “Speaking of, he kept asking about Chad. It was so weird.”
“Scout was asking about Chad? Whatever for?”
“I don’t know. He said André told him all about him… Like maybe he thought we were together or something.” I rip open the packet of sweet and spicy goodnight tea as the kettle starts to boil.
“He was jealous…” A hum is in her voice, contemplation. “I knew it would work. Our spell found your true love. He was lost, and poof! Here he is.”
Energy zips through my stomach as I pour the water into the mug. “He wasn’t jealous. He’s never even met Chad, and he’s not my true love.” I try to laugh, but it comes out wobbly. “I have to be sensible about this. It’s been four years since I’ve seen Scout Dunne.”
“Or two hours.”
“He’s going to meet his daughter for the first time tomorrow, and I have no idea what he’ll say or do… I can’t romanticize this.”
“Why not?” She’s getting stubborn. “I’ve seen the two of you together. You talk and laugh and make jokes and pretty babies. You’re a perfect match, and you’ve got this gorgeous little girl who loves football…”
“We barely know each other.”
“That is not true. You’ve known Scout since that pony tried to bite you.”
“As a child. Then I didn’t see him again until senior year, and then we left for two different colleges.” I take a sip of tea as she exhales a growl.
“You’re just being stubborn.”
“I’m not going to build it up bigger than it is, or I’ll be the one who gets hurt—just like the last time. Scout and I have a lot of ground to cover before we could ever consider anything more than being friends.”
“If you say so… I say it’s a volcano rumbling beneath the surface just waiting to erupt in red hot, sticky, molten lava.” She dramatizes the words, and I roll my eyes.
“Would you stop?”
“I saw that kiss at Aunt Regina’s. You might not have a long history, but you’ve got what counts.”
My cheeks burn when I remember kissing him. I remember his large hands touching me, stroking me, taking me.
“You’re thinking about it now, too.” My cousin’s voice is a dirty laugh.
“I’m going to bed. Love you, weirdo.”
“Sexy dreams!”
We disconnect, and I take a sip of tea. Hot memories, hot tea, a hot night… What am I doing? I’d hoped the tea would help me calm down and get some sleep tonight, which I’m now starting to doubt.
He was so handsome tonight, and when I saw him, I really did wonder if he was real. Then he spoke, and it all came back. He was one hundred percent the sex god of my dreams.
A low rumble outside signals the rain is coming. I watch the sky flicker with lightning through the sheer curtains covering the windows, and I wonder what it would’ve been like if we’d changed our plans and stayed together.
He could be sitting here right now, my legs across his lap. He would pull me to him, and I’d wrap my arms around his neck, kissing him slowly, tracing my lips along his, curling our tongues together as his cock grows harder against my thigh, as I straddle his lap…
A crash of thunder breaks my fantasy. If he had stayed, I wouldn’t be here. I wouldn’t have this apartment, and I wouldn’t have my store. I don’t know what my life would be like.
The choices we’ve made have brought us to this place, and now we’re facing new choices.
The soft hush of showers fills the air, and the metallic scent of rain drifts through the open windows of my loft. Standing, I walk to a shabby-chic white credenza with a picture of Melody and me sitting in the sand.
She was a chubby baby with a bright smile and white-blonde curls, and in the photo, my cheek is pressed to her head. I’m smiling with so much love for my funny little baby, so much like her dad.
I spent our first summer sanding and painting and transforming this old attic space into a one-bedroom, one-bathroom, open living area apartment. It has floor to ceiling French doors facing the street, and when they’re open, the sea breeze flows around us.
Naturally, I put my interior decorating skills to work, but instead of cozy farm like Aunt Regina’s place, ours has distressed white boards, and sea blue accents. I dug out an old, turquoise metal sign I’d found in Owen’s junkyard years ago. It’s a curved arrow that points to the door and reads, “Mermaids, Please Enter.”
I’ve created a beautiful life here, a comfortable life. I’ve got my daughter, I have plenty of money, and I’m doing well. Alone.
The light is gone, and only the reflections of the streetlights and the occasional sparkle of lightning fills the room.
Blinking several times against the darkness, I
think about my dreams. I started out wanting to travel, to see the world. Then life threw me a little detour with Melody. Then I discovered having my own shop, helping people find lost treasures or discover new ones is deeply satisfying. It’s like my dad said, where the romance is.
“Dad,” I whisper to the quiet. “You were right about that part, but what about the rest? I don’t want to be alone like you.”
My eyes grow heavy, and I feel the sleep growing stronger. Crawling beneath the cool sheets in my room, the rumble of thunder and the hush of rain lull me to sleep, despite my anxiety.
The truth is finally coming out, and while I don’t know if it will lead to happiness, I do know it will make me free.
I can’t stop moving. It’s nine forty-five, and I pace around the store, rearranging figurines in the bookcase, adjusting a desk. My fingers tremble, and my heart beats so hard, I hope I don’t hyperventilate.
Digging in a box from Dad’s store, I take out a gilded plate with gold leaf design and The Blue Boy and Pinkie in a center wreath. I trace my finger over the girl’s straight nose and pointed gaze.
The portraits were done by different artists at different times, but they’re always sold as a set. They’re also a cliché from the mid-nineteenth century, “the Romeo and Juliet of Rococo portraiture,” appearing on everything from vases to lamps. Still, antiquers love them.
The bell over the door dings, and I jump, nearly dropping it. My heart is in my throat, and I hold a blink, willing myself to be calm.
“Working on a Sunday?” It’s Chad Tucker, and I exhale as the adrenaline rushes from my veins. “Sorry, did I startle you?”
“No, it’s okay.” I feel like a dishrag. “I’m meeting someone at ten. I thought you were him.”
“Him?” A curious smile is on his face.
“Just an old friend.”
He turns the page in an old book. “I heard Travis Walker was back in town. He’s not bothering you, is he?”
“He stopped by on Friday, but I didn’t encourage him.” I glance up and realize he’s watching me. “It’s not Travis.”
“That’s good.” He nods, seeming relieved. “Not that it’s any of my business. He doesn’t seem like the football type.”
“I don’t really want him around Melody either.”
We exchange an understanding smile, and he steps around the boxes, heading to the door. An old lamp with an elaborate feather and jeweled shade blocks his way, and he nods to it. “You should show this one to Ms. Roxanne.”
Roxanne Philpot is one of the older ladies in the Village. Her husband died twenty years ago leaving her filthy rich, and she took the filthy part to heart. She makes regular trips to Hedonism, orders penis cakes from Emberly, dresses like Dolly Parton, and basically does whatever she wants.
She’s my hero.
“She’d put it in her living room,” I laugh.
I’m about to say more when a shadow falls over the door and my throat goes dry.
“You okay?” Chad hesitates.
The bell dings, and Scout appears like a star, stealing all the breath from my lungs.
He’s devastatingly handsome, even more today with the morning sunlight shining behind him, lighting the tips of his golden-brown hair.
He’s only wearing faded blue jeans and a black tee, but he’s so tall with those blue eyes and all that confidence. Muscular arms hang at his sides, and when he smiles, it’s like fireworks in my brain.
All the smart-girl confidence I had as a high school senior, even as a college graduate, desert me in the heat of his presence. I had all the answers back then. Now I never know what to expect from one day to the next.
Chad clears his throat, and I realize an awkward silence has fallen in the store. Scout’s eyes tear away from mine to the uniformed man standing beside him.
“Ah, you must be Chad. That makes more sense.”
“Chad Tucker.” Our friendly sheriff steps forward to shake his hand. “I’m at a disadvantage. You know me, but I don’t know you.”
“Scout Dunne. I’m an old friend of Daisy’s.”
I manage to find my voice. “We went to high school together in Fireside. Senior year.”
“Senior year?” Chad’s eyebrow arches, and I know he knows.
Anyone who spends as much time with Melody as he does can see this is her daddy standing in front of us.
My chin drops, and I add, “We kind of… caught up again after college.”
“Gotcha.” Chad shifts from one foot to the other, moving to the door. “Well, it’s nice meeting you, Scout. Maybe I’ll see you around?”
Scout studies him like he’s not sure what to make of the sheriff. “I’m not in a hurry to go anywhere, so yeah. Maybe you will.”
An edge is in his voice, and Sly’s voice is in my head, He’s jealous. Which is ridiculous. Scout could have any girl he wants, including me…
Chad cuts his eyes at me and grins. “That’s good. Stick around. See you, Daisy.”
The little bell tings as he leaves, and it’s just the two of us. Me with my heart pounding out of my chest and him looking like the all-American hot guy. I wish I’d put on some music so it wouldn’t be so quiet. This morning, I changed outfits five times before going with the denim shorts and long-sleeved sweater I’m wearing. Of course, I shaved my legs three times. I slept on pin curls last night. I spent too much time on my eyes and lips.
Scout steps closer, out of the sunlight, and my eyes trace the stubble on his square jaw. My fingers tingle with wanting to touch him.
“I’m not too early, am I? Sorry if I interrupted…”
“You’re fine.” My voice is quiet. So fine. “You haven’t changed a bit.”
“I’ve changed a lot, actually.” His chin dips, and he seems embarrassed.
Maybe that’s true, but he still has that easy swagger, that killer smile. That killer charm. “I’d never know from looking at you.”
He steps back, looking around the space. “So, this is your shop?”
“This is it.” I shrug, motioning with my arms.
Lamps and chairs, dressers and armoires are arranged in strategic locations. They’re covered in all types of accessories, and pictures hang on the walls. The stack of boxes from my dad’s store dominates the entrance.
“Dad helped me get started, then after he died, Spencer sent me a bunch of his things.” I motion to the tower of boxes. “It just arrived.”
“I heard about your dad. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. I mean, some days are hard.” I pull back the flap on one of the boxes. “I had no idea how much he’d saved for us.”
“It looks like you’ve got a good business.”
“I’m doing well.” I nod, fumbling for the words, not sure what to say or how to get us to the crucial point. “I have everything I need.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” This time when he smiles, it’s not as sunny.
Again, an awkward silence falls between us. My mind spirals through all the ways to say it. I need to just say it. Why didn’t I rehearse this? Summoning all my strength, I squeeze my eyes shut and take a deep breath.
“There’s something I’ve been needing to tell you.”
His eyes blink to mine, and the bell on the door rings.
“Mama! Mama! Where are you?” Melody bursts into the room like a golden hurricane, jumping all around. “Coco and I watched a movie with a girl playing football! She was a princess just like me!”
I drop to my knees to catch my baby. “Hey, sweet girl! What’s that?”
Donna blusters in behind her, shoving a lock of thin blonde hair behind her ears. “Sorry I’m late. Liam has Lindsey, but Coco didn’t want to go to church. She was sulking that Melody didn’t have to go, and I had to call Emberly. Tabby came and got her, but it was only a few minutes ago…”
“She’s a quarterback, and she’s a princess!” Melody’s jumping up and down, demanding my attention. “Just like me!”
“Oh, about that.” Don
na makes an apologetic face. “Liam thought it would be fun to watch that old Helen Hunt football movie with the girls. I hope you weren’t trying to wean her away from that or anything.”
“Helen Hunt?” I’m so confused. “I don’t know that movie.”
“It’s Quarterback Princess. I saw it on YouTube.” Scout steps up beside us. “Hey, I’m Scout.”
Donna straightens, taking his hand. “I’m Donna…” Her voice trails off as her eyes go from him to me to Melody and back again. “I feel like I missed something.”
Standing quickly, I take Donna’s arm, guiding her to the door. “Yeah, umm… Can I call you later?”
My friend is totally connecting the dots, because if ever a baby looked like her daddy, it’s Melody. I hustle Donna to the door before she spills the beans.
“Did you know he was coming?” Her voice is hushed, and I give her a quick hug before scooting her out.
“Thanks for keeping Melody.”
The door closes, and I press my back to the glass, fastening the lock for good measure. Scout’s watching me like he’s holding back a laugh.
“I guess you got rid of her. What was that all about?”
Melody is off on the other side of the store, I’m sure either digging up a doll or finding a drum to beat on or discovering some new sport. Mrs. Alice always joked about how busy J.R. and Scout were as little boys. Clearly, it’s genetic.
“We need to talk.” I go to where he’s standing, summoning all my nerve. “I was going to tell you this a few years ago, and then everything happened.”
Large hands cover mine, and his voice is gentle. “I think I know what you’re going to say. It’s been on my mind, too.” He looks down at our hands clasped. “I was going to say it last night…”
“Look, Mama! I’m the quarterback princess!” Melody runs to where we’re standing, an antique tiara falling down her three-year-old head with her pink football under her arm.
Her golden hair is like silk around her cheeks, and she blinks up at us with Scout’s bright blue eyes. We both look at her, and it’s a little earthquake. His grip on my hands loosens as he takes a step back, and my heart is in my throat.
