She seemed genuinely engaged in thought before responding, “I think that’s a proposal I can live with. I like your sister very much. She’s practical.”
“Don’t I know it!” I laughed.
Then I laughed again as she launched herself back onto the covers. I was happy to hear some of the James lightness return to her voice when she said, “You guys are going to have to drag me back to Fisk. This is the best bed I’ve ever slept in!”
“I’m going back to bed,” I declared, shaking my head.
“Wake me up for breakfast!” James shouted.
James Jones really was something else.
I climbed back up the stairs, tumbled into bed, and fell into a fitful sleep.
Dolly woke me around ten telling me that she was on her way to work and that she’d followed the recipes and made oatmeal, eggs, and bacon for everyone. She’d given me a kiss and informed me that my friends were already downstairs eating and that she’d be home around dinnertime.
I marveled a little at how pulled-together Dolly seemed. If I had endured the conversation she’d had last night, I would’ve been a rattled wreck. I sometimes thought poise under pressure was my sister’s superpower.
We ended up making base camp in my room. James lounged on my floor snuggled under blankets and surrounded by a stack of National Geographic magazines I gifted her. She was going through each shot, writing notes about the aperture and type of camera, the frame rate, exposure, and other things she’d tried to explain to me to no avail.
Odie, ever the mama bear sniffed, “You’re welcome, Jamesy.” When she saw that James and I were back on speaking terms.
James threw a pillow a her in response.
Throughout the day we took turns catching one another up on our lives over the past few weeks. Odie revealed that Maurice had asked her out on a date.
My eyes bugged out. “And how did his roommate Charlie take that news?”
Odie shrugged. “I have no idea. But when we come back from break he’s taking me to see Mahogany.”
Then James revealed that she’s had a secret admirer all semester long and that she thought she might be falling in love with this stranger. “He leaves me notes, beautiful sonnets, sometimes witty non sequiturs . . . always in the same spot, always on the same day outside my English 202 class.”
Odie and I stared at her, awestruck and dumbfounded. Odie said the thing I couldn’t. “Is there anything else you’ve been keeping from us? You gave damn Daisy such a hard time and you’ve been living an episode of Spy vs. Spy!”
James shook her head but I responded, “Speaking of English majors . . . There is something else James kept from us, Odie.” I effected an instructional tone, “Did you, by any chance, know that Julian P. Marshall, otherwise known as Jules the gorgeous, was James’s TA for English 202 this semester?”
James looked at me and the only way to describe her face was caught.
Caught, caught, caught.
“Now why on earth do you think this interesting tidbit never came up?”
Odie stood and placed her thumb theatrically on her chin. “Hmm. I’m not sure, Daisy. Could it be because he’s dull and unattractive?”
I pretended to think on it. “Hmm . . . Odie, I think you may be right. It’s definitely not because he’s smoking hot and very into James.”
Whoever said brown girls couldn’t blush had never seen James Jones in that moment.
“Shut it, both of you!” she said, rolling over on her back and closing her eyes.
“Jamesy,” Odie teased. “Is somebody hot for their TA?”
James growled—actually growled—in response.
“He came to every single class looking like . . .” She sighed and bit her lip. “Looking like Julian.”
“You’re clearly attracted to him. He’s clearly attracted to you. What’s the problem here?” Odie says.
“I get why she would hold back.”
They both whipped their heads to me.
“I do. Julian is . . . complicated.”
James looked at me with what was one-hundred-percent unfiltered jealousy. “I heard you and Julian have been spending a lot of time together. Just how complicated have things gotten between the two of you?”
I wanted to laugh in her face. So I did, because she had to know . . . me and Julian? Absolutely not.
I laughed so hard at James—cool James, losing her grasp on her tightly-held mask—that I tipped over on my bed.
I wiped tears from my eyes to see Odie shaking with laughter as James barely attempted to disguise her interest.
“James, for the record, no. Just no. There are no complications in my relationship with Julian except that his best friend is Trevor. Julian is exactly your brand of crazy, James. Not mine.”
“He is not my brand of whatever.”
“Oh, he is. He most certainly is. You two both go all the way. I mean all the way.”
Odie piped up. “Yeah, James, you two seem like the type to get into a fight, break all the dishes in the house, and then have sex on the kitchen countertops.”
I burst into laughter because Odie was exactly right.
James snatched a magazine from the floor to hide her face and mumbled, “We’re not that bad.”
“We.”
James groaned.
“What’s this ‘we’? Have you been seeing Jules this semester, Jamesy?” Odie questioned.
“No. I just meant . . . being around him this semester . . . he’s not that bad.”
I looked at Odie, grinned, and mimicked the narrator from the classic Christmas movie, “Well, in Whoville they say—that the Grinch’s small heart grew three sizes that day.”
Odie laughed so hard tears streamed down her cheeks. James threw her magazine at me and we both devolved into a riot of laughter.
That night after dinner we went ice-skating. Dolly drove us and the only discernible change in her demeanor happened when she spotted a car that looked like Reverend Smith’s in the parking lot and tried to put our car into park twice.
When we cut through the trees to get to the outdoor rink, my friends oohed and ahhed in surprise. The Green Valley skating rink was only around once a year, just before the Christmas holiday in a clearing surrounded by a circle of trees. There were loudspeakers around the rink and a concession stand that abutted the woods that sold hot chocolate, candy, funnel cakes, and other snacks.
Unsurprisingly the ice rink was a favorite date spot for teens. We were lacing up our skates on a bench when I saw Reverend Paul in the distance talking to some teenagers I didn’t recognize.
I shot a glance over at Dolly and she said softly, “That’s right, the church’s youth ministry is here tonight skating. I’d better . . . go speak . . .”
Dolly was off the bench and gliding across the ice seconds later.
Superpower.
I heard a voice laugh. “I didn’t know chickens could skate.”
“I didn’t know pretty prep-school boys could skate either.” I shot back without even looking up.
Julian and Trevor stood behind our bench, engaged in conversation with . . . little Charlie Boone. His brother.
Yikes. I hadn’t made the connection until right that moment. I dully realized that Charlie wasn’t at dinner the other night. I wondered if his parents had intentionally left him home to give them a chance to reconnect with Trevor first. I wondered if it was hard for Trevor to be back in Green Valley with the brother that was born after him, the one that his parents kept. I did the math and I figured Charlie was maybe a freshman in high school this year. I turned and walked a few paces to my friends and offered my hands. Odie had been on skates before so she could at least stay upright. James, on the other hand, had already fallen twice just attempting to stand and was now firmly planted on the bench biting her nails and bouncing her leg. She rejected my hand while Odie latched onto it for balance.
“James, come on. It won’t be as fun without you,” I coaxed.
“You girls go
ahead! I’ll be fine watching.”
“You’re not the type to sit on the sidelines and watch other people have fun.”
This from Julian.
I looked at Odie, eyebrows raised.
Jules walked around the bench, squatted down on his haunches, and offered James his hand.
Her knee bounced faster.
She gave a little shake of her head. “I’ll fall.”
“I won’t let you.”
Julian was all smoldering intensity, and I was surprised James didn’t melt into a puddle from the heat that was radiating between them.
“James, I’m not asking you to trust me. I know that you can’t do that. I’m asking you to hold my hand. Because if you’re holding my hand and you go down, you’ll pull me down with you. And I have no plans to go down, so that means my only choice is to keep you up.”
She hesitated for a second and then slipped her hand in his. The grin on Julian’s face was electric.
I took Odie around a few times before she declared she was ready for a break. I ushered her back to the railing and let her go just in the nick of time.
“Daiiisssy! Ahhhh!” A high-pitched, shrill little voice called my name. I smiled and turned because I knew that excited scream.
“Daisy! Daisy! Save me!” A pint-sized cloud of blond and chestnut curls cut directly across the ice causing skaters to dodge and some to nearly fall.
Bethany Oliver was flying full speed ahead toward me with arms wide open, pink knitted page-boy hat askew, and mouth screaming at full volume.
“Daisy! Save me!!”
I laughed. Children were the best. I’d babysat for the Olivers more than a few times over the years. Clever and funny, Bethany was rambunctious with an imagination in overdrive.
The six-year-old crashed into my legs, causing me to have to shuffle my feet to keep my balance and clinging to me in the way only small children could. I had a working theory that there were teeny tiny octopus-like suction cups deep in the fingertips of small children. It was the only explanation for why it took the strength of ten adults to detangle one determined child from the legs of their parents.
I saw Bethany’s father, Congressman Oliver, skating over to join us the proper way instead of cutting across like his maniac daughter. She saw her father coming and maneuvered behind my legs.
Ah yes, the advanced behind-the-leg cling. There was no way I was getting out of this without eating the ice.
“Save me! Save me, Daisy!”
“What am I saving you from this time? Pirates?”
“No!”
“Monsters?”
“No! Everyone knows monsters aren’t real!”
I laughed. Children changed so fast. The last time I’d babysat for her before I went to school I’d had to check beneath her bed five times for monsters just to be sure-sure-sure-sure-sure.
“Okay, I give up. What am I saving you from?”
“Bedtime,” her father answered. “Bethany, it is time to go. And no amount of screaming or hollering is going to get you out of it, young lady.”
“I can’t go. Daisy just got here. We haven’t even had time to catch up.” She peeked from behind my legs.
Her father released an exasperated sigh and I winked at him. I gave Bethany my hand and pulled her around to hoist her around my waist as I skated off the ice.
“Where you been?” She squinted at me like I’ve been up to something suspect.
This kid.
“I’ve been away at college. You know, the school they send big kids to where you sleep away and learn a lot and make new friends.”
“They leave you at school overnight?” She sounded scared.
“Yes, but all the kids are there, and we have our own rooms and our own beds and everything. It’s a lot of fun.”
She squinted her hazel eyes and tilted her head like she was deliberating if I was the victim of child abuse; she clearly wasn’t sold on the whole sleeping at school idea.
“Enough about my school. Let’s talk about you.”
I jostled her on my hip, readjusting her weight as I waited for her father to pull their car around to us where I planned to deposit her, skates and all.
Hey, her father could deal with that part . . . as I resorted to the oldest child-wrangling technique in the book: blackmail.
“I believe it would be a good idea this time of year in particular to do everything within your power to stay on the nice list.” I looked at her meaningfully and her little eyes widened.
I could practically see the cogs in her head turning as she worked to find a loophole or exemption for bedtime that would allow her to stay on the nice list, so I preempted it.
“I have it on good authority that listening to one’s father and mother about bedtime are the very basics for nice list consideration.”
She bit her lip.
“Furthermore, you might want to get into the practice of going to bed at a decent hour about now, Bethany. I’d hate for your house to get skipped when you-know-who drops off all the gifts for you-know-what because you were still awake. Going to bed now will make it easier when you have to fall asleep on Christmas Eve.”
She considered it for a second and then surprised me. “Your points are valid,” her little voice replied.
Caught completely off guard, I cracked up.
“My points are valid? Well, Bethany,” I adopted a haughty tone. “I’m so glad you find no holes in my logic.”
She grinned, the full, tiny-teeth grin that I loved.
“What in the world am I going to do with you?”
Her father pulled up, hopped out, rounded the car, and opened the car door in one swift motion. I plopped her in, buckled her up, and closed the door.
Her dad gave me a very grateful, if not a little weary, “Thank you. My wife is under the weather and I’m flying solo.”
“Good luck.” I laughed.
Just as I made my way back into the rink area I heard his voice. “You’re good at that.”
Trevor stood off in the shadow of a tree.
I walked over to him. “Good at what?”
“Saving the day.”
Trevor
Daisy looked so surprised that I would pay her a compliment and that stung.
I realized I had my work cut out for me but I was up to the task. I would shower her with compliments daily. I would erase the expectation of anything other than kindness coming from me.
But first I had to get out this friendship lane that I was technically still driving in. Yes, Daisy had kissed me. She enthusiastically kissed you, in her bedroom. But that didn’t matter; no matter how many hints or signs she dropped, it wouldn’t be enough. I wanted to make things official between us. The last time I’d left room for ambiguity, we’d had secrets, vagueness, hurt, and deception.
I wanted no part of that moving forward.
This time I wanted something new, something better. Something that would last.
If Daisy needed time, she could take all she needed as long as I got to be near her. I’d be as patient as Jacob waiting for Rachel. And I’d use the time we were both in Green Valley to get to know everything about her.
I loved Daisy. Maybe even since before things fell apart; I didn’t know. It was probably too soon to tell her so I would keep it to myself until the time was right.
If I’d had any lingering doubts that the girl I’d started to fall for was the real Daisy, seeing her here in Green Valley would’ve been a balm to those worries. The way she’d risen to help her sister. Seeing how much satisfaction she seemed to get out of playing hostess and bringing folks together. Seeing the gentle way she calmed down a wound-up child and helped her parent.
Daisy was sweetness incarnate, and I loved her. The realization settled into every part of me as I’d watched her, hair flying, broadly smiling, gently helping her friend around the rink.
“It occurred to me that we made a new deal. But we haven’t yet shook on it.” My smile was wry because I knew that Daisy
would know where I’m going with this.
“Our deal to be friends?”
“Yes, and friends shake hands. If I recall though, you and I have a special handshake.”
She smiled and her eyes flared with understanding.
Her voice was a little shaky when she said, “Sounds reasonable. We should definitely shake on it.”
I extended my hand to hers and waited just a beat as she took off her glove and gently slide her warm hand against mine.
Something that had been gnashing and aching and sharp soothed in me the moment our palms touched.
I splayed my fingers and slid them in between hers. We both flexed our fingers at the same time, and just like that, she held my hand.
I loved the feel of Daisy’s hands. Her soft to my rough; her small to my large. If it was all I ever had of her, it would be enough. I led her back to the ice and saw that Julian and James were still going round. James no longer looked pensive and tense; she was talking and laughing while Jules skated backwards, pulling her along.
Daisy and I still had a lot to learn about one another and I wanted that education to start now.
“Tell me something about you I don’t know,” I quizzed.
She scrunched her nose and deadpanned, “I hate grapes.”
My eyebrow jumped in delighted surprise at her truly disgruntled tone.
“Well, now I guess I won’t ever take you to a vineyard. I’d hate for those grapes to have to suffer your wrath.” I couldn’t help the smile in my voice and I didn’t want to.
Daisy’s holding my hand again. I thought we’d never get back here.
And I certainly never thought I’d be ice-skating under the moonlight, hand and hand with Daisy.
Life was totally unpredictable, especially with Daisy in it.
“Har-har, Steinbeck,” She said, playfully rolled her eyes before wrinkling her nose again. “I don’t like the texture. The sliminess on the inside plus . . .”
“Plus?”
“Dolly told me they were eyeballs one Halloween and I’ve never been able to get that visual out of my head.”
“Dolly sounds like she gave you a run for your money growing up.”
“You have no idea.”
Upsy Daisy: A First Love College Romance Page 36