timeswhen she hadn't been at all attentive to her son. Some nights, she hadn't even known he was gone until he'dreturned. He'd walk in the door and she'd scold him for not telling her where he'd gone. He'd look at her throughthose clear blue eyes of his and say, 'I told you I was going to Pete's. You said I could.' And she'd have toadmit to herself that it was entirely possible that he'd told her, hut she'd been focused on Steven's medication orhis next surgery - or perhaps that had been the day when Steven lost his ability to use a calculator, drive a car,or tie his shoes. Watching her husband struggle to maintain his dignity while trying to recall a simple task he'dbeen performing since he was four or five had been heartbreaking. There were times when she'd simplyforgotten whole blocks of conversations with Nathan.
The day Nathan had walked in the house with that Mohawk had been a real wake-up call for her. Suddenly, hewas no longer the little boy who played soccer, loved football, and watched 'Nickelodeon' curled up on thecouch with his special blanket. It hadn't been the color of his hair that had alarmed her most. It had been the lostlook in his eyes. His empty, lost gaze had shocked her out of the depression and grief she hadn't even knownshe'd fallen into for almost seven months following Steven's passing.
Steven was gone. She and Nathan would always feel his loss, like a missing part of their souls. He'd been herbest friend and a good man. He'd been a buffer, a comfort, someone who made her life better. Easier. He'd beena loving husband and father.
She and Nathan would never forget him, but she could not continue to live in the past. She had to live in thepresent and begin to look toward the future. For Nathan, and for herself. But in order for her to move forward,she had to take care of her past. She had to quit hiding from it.
Fingers of morning sun crept into the backyard and sparkled in the dew-covered lawn. The early sun cast longpatterns in the wet grass, crept up the windmill, and shot sparks off the up of Annie Oakley's silver rifle. Daisywished she had her Nikon and wide-angle lens on her. It was up in her room, and she knew if she ran up to getit, she'd miss the shot and the rising sun. Within seconds, dawn broke over Daisy's feet, legs and face; sheclosed her eyes and soaked it all in.
Living in the Northwest, Daisy had lost most of her accent, but she'd never lost her love of wide-open spacesand the huge blue sky stretching across the horizon in unbroken lines. She opened her eyes and wished Stevenwere here to see it. He would have loved it as much as she did.
Daisy looked down at the rubber garden clogs on her feet. She wished for a lot of things. Like more time beforeshe had to confront Jack again. She was in no hurry to see the anger in his face. She'd known that he would notwelcome her back with open arms, but she was surprised that after all of these years, he clearly hated her asmuch as he had the last time she'd seen him.
You call this ugly? he'd said. This is nothing, buttercup. Stick around and I'll show you how ugly I can get.
She wondered if Jack had realized he'd called her buttercup. His old name for her. The name he'd first called heron her first day at Lovett Elementary.
She remembered being nervous and scared on that day, so long ago. She'd been afraid no one would like her,and she'd suspected that the big red bow clipped to the top of her head looked stupid. Her mother had pulled itoff the handle of a Welcome Wagon basket filled with coupons, a recipe hook, and Wick Fowler's chili kit.
Daisy hadn't wanted to wear the bow; but her mother had insisted that it looked good and matched her dress.
All that first morning, no one had spoken to her. By lunch, she'd become so upset, she was unable to eat hercheese yum-yum sandwich. Finally; during recess, Steven and Jack walked up to where she stood with her backagainst the chain link fence.
'What's your name?' Jack had asked.
She'd looked into those green eyes of his, surrounded by long black lashes, and she'd smiled. Finally someonewas talking to her, and her little heart leapt with joy. 'Daisy Lee Brooks.'
He'd rocked back on the heels of his boots as he looked her up and down. 'Well, buttercup, that's the stupidesthair how I ever did see,' he'd drawled, then he and Steven howled with laughter.
Hearing that the bow was stupid confirmed her worst fears, and the backs of her eyes started to sting. 'Yeah,well y'all are so stupid you have to take off your shoes to count,' she'd responded, proud that she stood up forherself. Then she'd ruined everything by bursting into tears.
The memory of that day brought a sad smile to her face. She'd vowed to hate those two boys as long as shelived. It lasted until Jack had asked her to play on their softball team, three weeks later. It was Steven whoshowed her how to play second base without getting hit in the face with the ball.
At first, Jack had called her buttercup to tease her, but years later, he'd whispered it as he kissed the side of herthroat. His voice would go all dark while he discovered whole new ways to tease her. There had been a timewhen just the memory of his kiss had sent a warm shudder through her chest, but she hadn't felt anything warmand tingly for him in years.
She thought of how he'd looked last night, half naked and fully ticked off. His lids lowered over his sexy greeneyes, and that sardonic curl of his lips. He'd grown even more handsome than the last time she'd seen him, butDaisy was older and wiser and no longer tempted by good looks and bad attitudes.
Nathan didn't resemble Jack much. Except maybe the attitude part. He was staying with Steven's sister in Seattlewhile Daisy was in Lovett, but he knew the reason behind her trip. She'd learned her lesson about lies, no matterhow well intentioned, and she never lied to Nathan. But she had purposely chosen his last week of ninth gradeto make the trip so he couldn't come along. She didn't know what Jack's reaction would be once she told himabout Nathan. She didn't think he would be cruel, not to Nathan anyway, hut she wasn't certain. She didn't wantNathan here if Jack got truly ugly. Nathan had had enough pain in his life.
From inside the house, she heard her mother moving around. She stood and walked back inside.
'Good morning,' she said as she hung up her coat. The warm scent of her mother's kitchen filled her nose. Thesmell of baked bread and home-cooked comfort food surrounded her like a familiar blanket. 'I watched the suncome up, and it was absolutely 'gorgeous.' She kicked off the garden clogs and looked over at her mother, whowas stirring cream into her coffee. Louella Brooks wore a blue nylon nightgown, and her blond hair was piledon top of her head like cotton candy.
'How was your party last night?' Daisy asked. Every second Friday, the Lovett single's club held a dance, andLouella Brooks hadn't missed one since she'd joined in nineteen ninety-two. She paid fifty dollars a year tobelong to the club, and she believed in getting her money's worth.
'Verna Pearse was there, and I swear she looks a good ten years older than her real age.' Louella placed herspoon in the sink and raised her mug to her lips. Her brown eyes looked back at Daisy over her coffee. 'She wassurely saggin', baggin' and draggin'.'
Daisy smiled and filled her own mug. Verna had once worked at the Wild Coyote Diner with Lonella. The twohad been friends at one time. During Daisy's junior and senior years of high school, she'd worked at the dinertoo, but she couldn't recall what had happened to break up the friendship. 'What happened between you andVerna?' she asked.
Louella put her mug on the counter and grabbed a loaf of bread from the pantry. 'Verna Pearse is as loose as aslipknot,' she said. 'For a year she told me she got paid ten cents more an hour than me because she was abetter waitress. She bragged and held it over my head, but come to find out, she was earning it in other ways.'
'How?'
'With Big Bob Jenkins.'
Daisy remembered the owner of the diner, and he hadn't been called Big Bob for nothing. 'She was having sexwith Big Bob?'
Louella shook her head and pursed her lips. 'Oral gratification in the storeroom.'
'Really? That's criminal.'
'Yes. It's a form of prostitution.'
'I was thinking it was more like slave labor. Verna blew Big Bob for what turns out to be like -eighty cents aday? That's not right.'
'Daisy,' her mother scolded as she got out the toaster. 'Don't talk filth.'
'You brought it up!' She'd never understand her mother. 'Oral gratification' was okay, but somehow 'blew'
wasn't.
'You've been in the North too long.'
