Marrying Daisy Bellamy

by Susan Wiggs

  “How is Zach these days?” Sonnet asked, her tone self-consciously casual.

  “I wondered when you’d get around to asking.” Daisy had always sensed the attraction between the two of them. They were both quick to deny it, but that didn’t make them any less attracted to one another. “Zach is great,” she said. “Same as always.”

  “Is he seeing anyone?”

  “Not unless you count staring at your picture.”

  “Really? He stares at my picture?”

  “Incessantly.”

  “Is it a good shot?”

  “Not the same as seeing you in person,” Daisy said. “You should come for a visit.”

  Seventeen

  “I want to explain us to Charlie,” Logan said to Daisy. It was something he’d been thinking about for a while. Things were going well with them and he wanted to take this—whatever it was—to the next level. “We’ve been together long enough to know this is not a fluke. It’s time.” He took care to speak in a reasonable tone. Not pushy or aggressive. He’d tried that with her in the past, and it never worked. When he pushed, Daisy pushed back.

  Now she surprised him by saying, “I’ve been trying to figure out an explanation myself. He knows we’ve been, um, hanging out a lot.”

  Logan slipped his arm around her, his confidence lifting. “Not as much as I’d like. So how about we level with him over dinner tonight?”

  “Tonight?”

  “The sooner, the better. Once Charlie understands, we can finally come out as a couple.”

  She sighed. “That would be…great. Yes, I think we should tell him. It’s been strange, trying to act as if nothing is going on.”

  Logan felt a wave of relief. This was going to go well. It was something he had focused on for a long time, and finally he could see a future for them.

  “Tell you what,” he said. “We’ll take him swimming at the park after work. We can explain it to him then.”

  Her eyes darted away, then returned to him. “All right. That will be the plan.”

  They met later at Blanchard Park, which had a busy swimming area with a beach and a dock. Charlie was overjoyed to go swimming. Kids were running around everywhere, chasing beach balls, playing tag, rushing out into the cool, clear lake water.

  Daisy had brought along an old blanket and some towels and Blake on her leash. Logan and Blake had settled into a mode of mutual tolerance. Neither was terribly enamored with the other, but they were part of the same family, and they were about to get a lot closer. Daisy spread the blanket under a tree and tethered the dog. Blake trotted around as if patrolling the perimeter.

  “Ready for a swim, my man?” Logan asked Charlie.

  “Yes.” Charlie peeled off his T-shirt.

  “Hang on,” Daisy said. “Sunscreen. Even though it’s late in the day, you could still burn.”

  Charlie submitted, presenting his back to her and stretching out his arms like a martyr.

  “Trust me,” Logan said, “sunscreen is better than a sunburn. I once got a sunburn so bad it made blisters.”

  “Yikes,” said Charlie, turning to Daisy and screwing up his face while she applied more cream.

  “Yikes is right. You and I both have the same pale skin and believe me, it does not like the sun.”

  “Why do we have pale skin?”

  “It’s the Irish O’Donnell in us—white skin and freckles. Contributes to our manly appearance.” He struck a body builder pose, which Charlie instantly emulated.

  Charlie was big for his age, with a taut, strong body and plenty of physical coordination. With his fiery red hair and light spray of freckles across his nose, he was all O’Donnell. Logan was proud of the resemblance, but he tempered his pride with caution. Attaching all your pride and expectations to a kid could be toxic. He was proof of that, for sure, trashing his knee just so his dad could see him play in a damn high school soccer match. Glancing down at the sickle-shaped scar, he could still feel the blazing fountain of pain that had erupted from his knee. And still he’d managed to score the victory goal and savor the expression of blissful pride in his father’s face. Had it been worth it?

  A quiet, dysfunctional voice in his head whispered, Yes. He kind of hated it that making his dad happy trumped keeping his own freaking knee. The Oxy pills had made it all easier to bear—the fiery physical agony as well as the need to escape his father’s emotional hold on him. And thus the cycle had gone, a cycle he was determined not to repeat with his own son.

  Logan peeled off his golf shirt, feeling a twinge of self-consciousness about his thickening waistline. Damn desk job.

  “Something wrong?” asked Daisy.

  “Just thinking I need to get to the gym more often.”

  Her face softened and she slipped her arms around him. “Stop it. You’re just right. You look like a young Russell Crowe to me.”

  “I assume that’s a good thing?”

  “A very good thing.” Stepping back, she shrugged out of the oversized shirt she was wearing, and he forgot all his complaints. He forgot everything.

  He must’ve made an involuntary sound, because she sent him a teasing grin. “Behave.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Ready?” Charlie asked, jumping up and down.

  They each took hold of one of his hands and ran together into the water, Charlie squealing with delight.

  “Watch, Momdad, watch me swim,” Charlie ordered, gesturing for them to make room. He’d been in swimming lessons at the community aquatic center and had recently been promoted from pollywog to minnow. His strokes were squirmy and a little desperate, but he crossed the distance between his parents several times before getting winded.

  “That’s amazing, bud,” Logan said. “You the man.”

  “Yeah, I’m the man.” He beat his chest, caveman style, but nearly sank in the process.

  “They haven’t worked on treading water in his swim class,” Daisy pointed out, grabbing his little white arm.

  In the shallows, they chased each other and splashed around. This was the best part of having a kid—being able to cut loose and have fun, without a care in the world. Logan knew he’d become a father way too young, but he had grown into the role. He’d been clean and sober for years, and his biggest motivation was right here, this squirming, laughing, forty-pound ball of energy.

  And things were going so damn well with Daisy. For the first time in a long time, Logan dared to believe they could be a family. He caught Daisy’s eye, and they shared a smile that was full of promise.

  Charlie slowed down a little to watch some kids running to the end of the dock and jumping in. Logan recognized the longing in the kid’s expression.

  “You want to do that?” he asked Charlie. “You want to jump off the dock?”

  Charlie shook his head and grabbed Daisy’s hand.

  “Come on,” Logan cajoled. “I can tell you want to.”

  Charlie shook his head more vigorously and clung harder.

  What are you, a chicken shit? Logan’s father’s voice jeered in his head. Quit being a baby.

  Logan shoved the nagging memory into a dark corner of his mind. That was his father’s way, not his.

  “We can go together,” he said. “I’ll hang on to you, buddy.”

  “No,” said Charlie. “I’m going to wait for Daddy-boy.”

  The lake water turned to ice. That was how it felt to Logan, anyway. Daisy wore a look of such naked emotional pain that he felt it, too.

  She quickly recovered and said, “I told you about Julian. He’s not coming back.”

  “Then how will I ever jump?”

  Logan couldn’t believe the kid still remembered him. In Charlie’s world, a week was an eternity, and Julian had been gone a lot longer than that.

  Daisy offered a helpless shrug.

  “Tell you what,” Logan said, pushing past the tense moment, “let’s talk about dinner.”

  “Dinner!” Charlie’s face lit up.

  “I was thin
king the Tastee Freeze.”

  “Yes, yes, yes!” Charlie leapfrogged for joy in the shallows.

  Daisy laughed. “Good job, Logan.”

  “Tell me you don’t like the Tastee Freeze.”

  “Are you kidding? Everybody loves it. Charlie most of all.”

  “Let’s get dried off and go.”

  One of the chief virtues of the place was that it was a drive-in. Totally old-school, with roller-skating carhops, trays that hooked onto the car windows. Each parking bay had an illustrated menu with buttons that lit up when you pushed them to order something.

  And order they did—burgers, curly fries, milk shakes, a dinosaur-themed kid’s tray for Charlie, cones of soft-serve for dessert.

  “Now this,” Charlie declared, “is awesome.”

  Daisy and Logan laughed. It was cool to hear the kid talking like an adult.

  “Promise me you won’t get carsick on the way home,” Logan said.

  “Pinky swear,” Charlie said, holding out his small, sticky hand.

  Charlie told Logan he didn’t understand why he needed a bath if he’d been swimming, but Logan coaxed him into the tub with the promise of a few minutes of Xbox before bed. Even while he gave the kid a bath, then hurried him into his Yankees pajamas, Logan could sense a peculiar tension in the house.

  They still needed to tell Charlie about their new relationship. The conversation was long overdue. Daisy was going to do most of the talking.

  Charlie stood on his step stool and brushed his teeth in a hurry. “Okay, I’m ready for Xbox.”

  “Sure,” said Logan, carrying him piggyback into the living room. “Your mom and I want to tell you something first.”

  “Will it be quick?”

  “I don’t know. I guess it can be if you listen real well.”

  Daisy patted the sofa beside her. “Come here, you.”

  Charlie clambered up and Logan settled on his other side. Logan was surprised to feel a prickle of nervousness in his chest. What if the kid didn’t like the idea of a guy horning in on his mom? Maybe there was something to this Freudian crap about boys being subconsciously jealous of their mothers. What if the kid brought up Julian again? What if—

  “Hey, Charlie,” Daisy said in a cheery voice. “You know how much you like it when your dad comes around and does stuff with you?”

  “Uh-huh. Like Xbox.”

  “And swimming and going for ice cream and being around the house. You seem to like that a lot.”

  “Yep.”

  “Well, it turns out I like it, too. I like being a family with you and your dad.”

  “Like the Three Bears,” Charlie said.

  “Right. And, um, I also like being with your dad even when you’re not around. We are, uh, kind of like boyfriend and girlfriend. Do you know what that means?”

  “Yup. Kissing and loooove.” He started jiggling his foot with impatience.

  “Wow. I guess you know more than I thought.”

  Logan jumped in, sensing Charlie was getting antsy. “We wanted to make sure that’s all right with you, if your mom and I have some kissing and love.”

  “It’s okay.” He jiggled the other foot.

  “And suppose we have a sleepover?” Logan said. “Is that okay, too?”

  “I like sleepovers,” said Charlie.

  “I meant, the kind of sleepover where I sleep in the bed with your mom.”

  “Sometimes I sleep with Mom,” Charlie said with a slight frown.

  “You can still do that,” Logan said. “Sometimes.”

  “Okay.”

  “So you’re good with me and your dad being together,” Daisy said.

  “Okay. I’m ready for Xbox.”

  Logan grinned at Daisy over their son’s head. It was hard to tell how much Charlie had taken in and how much he’d actually understood.

  Time would tell.

  Eighteen

  Daisy hunkered down at her computer, laboring over a shot she was considering for her new portfolio. She’d decided to take her last rejection from the MoMA program as a personal challenge and was now trying hard to regain her confidence. Giving up was not an option.

  Persistence had a price. She had to steal hours whenever she could, and sometimes she felt guilty, opting out of family time or social time in order to work.

  The labor was absorbing, though, and the result was often its own reward. The image currently on her screen was a complex composition, one that had taken her days to capture and hours to edit it to perfection. She had wanted a particular view of the Avalon Free Library, a solid Greek-revival stone building surrounded by a park-like grove of giant horse chestnut trees.

  When the sun was just so, and there were people and dogs in the park, it looked like an image out of a dream. An interesting dream at that, maybe something the artist Seurat might have painted. A patina of nostalgia overlay the picture, yet it didn’t have a sheen of cheap sentiment. Instead, it seemed to capture the life of a community for a moment in time, expressing the story she wanted to tell.

  She had such mixed feelings about Avalon. It was the place she called home, where she found support and connection to the friends and family she loved. Still, there was a part of her—a secret, reckless part—that sometimes yearned for a different life. Living in Germany with Charlie had been an incredible adventure, but instead of satisfying her wanderlust, the trip had left her hungry for more.

  Something in her picture of Avalon expressed that subtle, inner restlessness, shaded by patient adjustments made with her editing program, and she had a sense that this shot was important to her as an artist.

  The screen door snapped like a mousetrap, startling her.

  “Hey, babe,” Logan called, coming in from the backyard with Charlie. “My buddy here and I were talking about going to the Hornets game this afternoon. What do you say?”

  “Yeah, Mom,” Charlie chimed in. “Say yeah.”

  The prospect of an afternoon at the ballpark tapped into that same push-pull of conflict she’d been feeling. Family time with Charlie and his dad was priceless, yet her time for working on the portfolio was limited. She had a wedding to shoot tonight, meaning a tight turnaround between game and work. She’d have to ditch the portfolio for the rest of the day.

  “Well,” she said, “I was putting the finishing touches on these library shots.” She gestured at the screen, curious to see what they thought.

  “Nice,” said Logan.

  “Pretty, Mom,” said Charlie. “So can we go?”

  She regarded them both, so alike in their rusty haired, green-eyed adorableness and plaintive expressions. “Sure,” she said. “I’ll finish this some other time.” She swiveled around in her chair to save her work, clicking “Yes” to the pop-up query on the screen.

  The moment she did so, she realized her boneheaded mistake. The window had said “Discard all changes?” And she had just obliterated hours of painstaking, impossible-to-replicate work.

  Her heart sank down to her churning stomach. There was nothing—nothing—quite so frustrating as knowing the work had been lost, along with the energy that had inspired it. “I can’t believe I just did that. I discarded all my editing and I’m back to the raw file.”

  “Looks pretty much the same to me,” Logan commented with a glance at the screen. “Come on, we’d better go.”

  She literally bit her tongue. It was not Logan’s job to understand and commiserate over her costly blunder. If not for Logan, she wouldn’t have had the entire Saturday morning to work, anyway. “So. A Hornets game.” She forced brightness into her tone.

  “It’s George Bellamy Memorial day, according to the schedule,” Logan reminded her.

  “Oh, man,” she said. “I’d totally forgotten about that. Of course I wouldn’t miss it.”

  “Who is George Bellamy?” Charlie asked, putting on his beloved Hornets cap.

  “Great-granddad’s older brother. We never got to meet him because we were in Germany when he came to town.”
>
  “Will we see him today?”

  “No, he died. A memorial means people will remember him, especially today.” George had left a legacy to the city, funding the ballpark in perpetuity.

  “I hate when people die,” Charlie remarked.

  Daisy winced at the bald truth of his statement. Time had blunted the searing sharpness of losing Julian, but every so often a reminder reared up and caught her unaware, stabbing her in an unseen place. “George was really old,” she said. “And sick. Great-granddad is going to be really happy to see us at the ballpark today. We should get going.”

  She checked herself in the mirror. Legs recently shaved, hair washed this morning. Not bad. Since starting this new thing with Logan, she’d embraced her girly side again. Personal grooming took on new meaning. “Welcome back to the land of the living,” she said to her reflection.

  The Avalon Hornets were the town’s pride and joy—a bona fide professional team in the Can-Am league. They were having a great season, too, and the club boasted a hot new pitcher named Danny Alvarado, so the crowd was substantial and parking scarce.

  “Check it out,” Logan said, regarding several rows of bleachers near the third base line. “It’s like a Bellamy family reunion.”

  “Wow, I’m glad you reminded me to come,” Daisy said. “Thanks, Logan.”

  “No prob.” He slung his arm around her shoulders, drew her close.

  Her dad and brother were there, along with her grandparents and a bunch of aunts, uncles and cousins. Within moments, they were seated in the midst of everyone she loved.

  “Hey, you made it,” her dad exclaimed, his face lighting up. “Get over here in the cheering section.”

  Daisy struggled to shake off her frustration with work. She sat back, determined to enjoy the company and the game.

  “My goodness,” her grandmother Jane murmured, settling next to her, “you two are quite smitten with each other these days, aren’t you?” She indicated Logan, who was busy showing Charlie how to toss a piece of popcorn in the air and catch it in his mouth.