Clean Slate

by Holley Trent

  “How many hands do you need this fall, Daisy?” Nikki asked. “Consider everything. Bars, liquids, shampoos…”

  Daisy gawked. “I’m sorry, what?”

  “Little bird told me you made shampoo.”

  She looked at Ben.

  He shook his head.

  She looked at Momma.

  Momma was suddenly very interested in a stain on her shirt.

  Momma?

  “How many, Daisy?”

  Fuck. One to replace Clara on soaps…one on liquids…

  “Two temps,” she said.

  Nikki made a note. “Gonna need more work space in that back corner. All right, I know it’s still hot outside, but we need to start thinking about cold-weather moisturizers…”

  Ben squeezed her knee again.

  Daisy read his newest scribble on the pad: Thanks for keeping my mother company.

  She shrugged. It was hardly a burden. Clara was easy to be around, but Daisy understood in a way why Ben was so tough on her. He had to be because she was so damned hard on herself, that eventually, she would have destroyed herself. Maybe not physically, but definitely spiritually.

  Another note: Dinner with the Rouses later? I hear there’ll be pie.

  That made her giggle, and she quickly covered her mouth so as not to ignite Nikki’s ire. She freed her hand from his and pulled the pad in front of her, turning the page. Maybe. I usually fall asleep around seven lately.

  He nodded and they tuned back in to Nikki.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Louis pulled his SUV into the driveway and blocked Daisy in right as she was trying to pull out. He jumped down from the driver’s seat and jogged to her front passenger window. Daisy, alone in the car, cocked her head to the side and let her confusion show on her face.

  He gestured for her to roll down the window.

  She mashed the button.

  “Daisy, I thought maybe you were driving Clara to the airport.”

  She shook her head and crooked a thumb toward the house. “No, I…” She pressed her lips together and stared down at her lap. “I have an appointment. Ben’s going to take her in a few minutes. He’s not back yet.”

  “Oh. I’ll let you out then.” He hopped back into his truck and backed onto the asphalt just enough to let her out, then pulled back onto the driveway with a honk of his horn.

  Once parked, he didn’t dally. He’d waited too damned long and with how mangled his insides felt, he could hardly afford to wait even one more minute. He ran to the kitchen door and let himself in without knocking.

  Clara, at the table, startled as the door banged shut, but he didn’t give her any time to recover. He wrapped his arms around her, pulled her to her feet, and planted a desperate kiss on her lips.

  She moaned her objection, and he broke the lock, holding her back just a few inches.

  Her eyes were wide, lips parted as she panted. “Louis!”

  “What?”

  “You can’t just…” she pulled one of her arms free of his embrace and made a waffling gesture with her hand. “You can’t just walk in after all these years and try to take what you want.”

  He grunted. “It’s not taking if you give it freely. Won’t you give it?” Please don’t make me whine. If you want me to whine… He rubbed his hands up and down her back and tried to put all the yearning he had in his face. It was hard. He’d learned to squash his expression of that particular emotion over the course of decades, but the moment Ben found his brother and Jerry confronted Louis about it, those old feelings started bubbling up to the surface as if someone had jammed a spade in the ground and struck oil.

  “Why should I?” she asked, her brow furrowed and lips pushed together into a pout.

  “Clara, I was stupid. We both know it. The boys know it. I don’t expect you to forgive me for it ever. But, I want you to try to love me in spite of it.”

  Her expression softened just a hint, then flashed back to anger. “Love you?”

  He left out a soft exhale and drew her in closer so his chin was atop her soft hair. She didn’t fight it—just sank into it. “Yes. I’m not so foolish to think you haven’t tried to move on in all these years, but if you still want me even a little bit, please…tell me. Because I love you.”

  She tilted her head up so he had to move his chin to meet his gaze. She seemed to be looking for some trace of a lie, but she wasn’t going to find one.

  “I do, Clara. I’m sorry for hurting you. I’m sorry the boys didn’t have each other growing up. I’m sorry for being a coward. I chose wrong. I repeatedly chose wrong, but if you’ll let me, I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make you happy. That’s the only promise I can make.”

  And for him, it was a small promise—an easy one. She’d never been a hard woman to please, but still he’d managed to mess that up. Thirty years can teach a man a lot about needs, though. He hadn’t needed all that money. Not really. It’d left him emotionally bankrupt, rendered him dickless in some ways. Compromised his fathering. Even if they’d been just scraping by, they would have been happy. Back then, tough, happiness didn’t seem like a very valuable commodity. At least his boys understood how much it was worth. He rubbed the stubble on his chin and stared out the door in the direction Daisy had driven in.

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “So, what? You send me money every now and then to assuage your guilt?”

  He scoffed. “No, woman, it means you move here and you let me do right by you.”

  “This isn’t my home.”

  “Like hell it isn’t!” he said, raising his voice. He hadn’t meant to come in with guns blazing, but he had to make her understand—impress upon her the seriousness of the situation. For him, it seemed like life or death. Sure felt like it. “Jerry’s here. Ben’s here. And now there’s Trinity and…” He waved toward the door. “Daisy and the baby.”

  She cocked up a blonde eyebrow.

  He shrugged. “Yeah, I know about it. Hard to keep a secret around here.” He put his hands on her shoulders and chafed her arms while staring down at her expressionless face. “Clara, what do you have left in Belgium, huh? You’re going home to a job and a house and nothing. There are people here who love you. I love you. Stay.”

  She didn’t respond.

  Damn it.

  He dug in the pocket of his khakis and pressed the small, hard item between his two fingers, extracting it. When he pulled it out, he studied it for a moment, spinning it around to assess all three hundred and sixty degrees, and then met her gaze.

  “It’s yours if you want it, Clara.”

  She shook her head and took a step backward.

  He allowed her no slack, and closed the distance between them. “Please. It was my mother’s and her grandmother’s before that. It’s been in my safe deposit box along with Jerry’s birth records for a lot of years.”

  Understanding seemed to dawn on her face, so he held it out to her.

  “Here. It should be yours. No one else’s. When my mother went into the hospital all those years ago she’d handed me her rings and told me ‘do right by that woman.’ She wasn’t lucent, you know? But I didn’t think she meant Kate. She hated Kate.” He scoffed and raked a hand through his hair. “That was the last thing she ever said to me. She went to sleep and the next day she was gone.”

  Tears formed at the corners of her eyes, but still, she didn’t take the ring. She pressed it back to him. “You should give it to Ben.”

  He nudged it back and shook his head. “I’ve giving it to you, Clara. Take it please…unless you don’t want me.”

  She stared into his eyes and he tried to smile, but the best he could do was twitch at the corners of his mouth. Please, Clara. Take it.

  Her lips formed some word, but before she could say it, she closed her mouth and put up a shaking right hand to pinch the ring from his fingers. “Goed.”

  “Ja?” Is she playing with me?

  She nodded. “Ja. We will try again.”

  H
e forced out a long exhale and the heavy anvil that’d been residing in his chest for more than thirty years seemed to dissolve. “God, woman.”

  She slipped on the ring and cast a wary expression up to him. “What are people going to think? That I’m some homewrecker?”

  “Who cares?”

  “That’s what Jerry said.”

  “He is his father’s son.” He walked around her and hugged her from the back, rocking them side-to-side. “Besides, people love happily-ever-after. I think this counts as the start of that. That’s all that matters.”

  “I don’t want a wedding.”

  The kitchen door swung in and Ben stepped inside. He looked from one parent then the other, grunted appreciatively, and left, calling behind him, “Call me when your flight lands, Moeder. I guess you have a ride. I guess I’ll tag along for Daisy’s appointment.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  “Momma, please,” Daisy implored as she jammed one last plastic bag of clothes into the back of her sedan. “I thought we were getting somewhere with how things were going at work and now this?”

  Momma took off her glasses, jammed them into the pocket of her flannel shirt, and followed on Daisy’s heels the way around the car to the driver’s door.

  Daisy sat.

  Momma leaned into the door. “Look, it takes me a while to come around. You know that. I was upset about you branching off on your own. Made me feel bad. Felt like you didn’t want to be connected to me no more.”

  Daisy sighed as she clasped her seatbelt’s tongue into the buckle. “It was never about that. I never wanted you to feel like I was trying to distance myself from you. I just wanted something of my own, Momma. I’m too old to be in your shadow.”

  Momma laughed. “That may be so, but you’re getting so big now you’re the one casting the shadow over me.”

  Daisy leaned the back of her head against the rest and stared at the steering wheel. “We think differently, Momma. You and me. You like to stick to what you know. I like to try new things sometimes.”

  “Well, I hated to admit it, but you’re good at it.”

  Daisy shrugged. “I’m only working off of what you and Nanna taught me. Without y’all, I wouldn’t know the basics. I couldn’t do what I do. I’m no rebel, Momma. I’m just working with what I’ve got.”

  Momma squatted into the doorway and lowered her voice to a near whisper. “But why can’t you work with Barry the same way? Make somethin’ out of him?”

  “No.” Daisy closed her eyes and shook her head. “No no no. He’s a lump of coal with no ambitions to ever become a diamond. Liz warned us about that all those years ago, remember? He’s too fucking lazy.”

  Momma cringed, then narrowed her eyes. “So what are you sayin’? That you can do better?”

  “I’m pretty sure.”

  Hell, that wasn’t saying much.

  “Well, Daisy, I just don’t want you to be alone like me. You’re so damned shy, that—”

  Daisy put up her hand to halt her talking, then rested it on top of her shoulder, giving it a little squeeze. “Maybe some men like shy. There’s someone for everyone, and I want to be with that someone—when I’m ready and not a moment before.”

  Momma grinned. “When’d you get so smart?”

  Daisy glanced up at her rearview mirror at the sound of a car door being slammed and rolled her eyes at the approaching Barry. “Just in the past couple months.” She started her ignition. “Bye, Momma. See you at work.”

  * * *

  Fall came in with rain and a less desirable f-word: friend-zone. Ben didn’t want to push Daisy, even if it felt like everything they were doing was a step down from where he thought they should have been. At a loss for other ideas, he continued treating her as the one great love he knew she was even without getting the fringe benefits. He didn’t want to have any regrets—didn’t want to be in a situation down the road where his impatience had caused some irreparable rift.

  She was around a lot, thanks to Moeder and Trinity. For Trinity, Daisy was that friend who listened long and talked short, and their friendship seemed well-calibrated.

  With the baby’s quickening, Moeder had simply gone into a state of non-stop fretting. It’d been so long since there’d been a baby in the family, she didn’t know what to do with herself. So, she worried. And when she worried, she baked. And when she baked, she called Daisy over to the Rouse estate to eat it…and when Daisy begged off, Moeder would drive to Trinity and Jerry’s with a basket in tow, storming up the stairs into the garage apartment.

  At work, they had an easy camaraderie and often went out to trade shows and festivals together. She’d smile and chat with him like she did with no other person, but that was about as far as things went.

  He treated her like a valued lover, but the truth was they hadn’t slept together since before he’d returned to Belgium that last time…unless he counted them falling asleep in front of the television a couple of nights per week.

  They’d wake up and it’d be dark outside and she’d just put her head back against his chest, tighten her hold on his waist, and nod back off.

  One day, she told him the absolute worst thing a man in love with a woman could hear: “Ben, you’re the best friend I have.”

  That rocked his world in a bad way. He moped. He grieved. He quietly raged, all the while keeping a smile on his face whenever she was around. He’d just about come to terms with the idea of co-parenting their child as friends rather than partners, when on Christmas day, they all gathered at Jerry and Trinity’s for a meal Trinity “cooked”—meaning Moeder prepared it and Trinity washed the dishes.

  The group had dispersed, with the elder Rouses bundling up and stepping out into the brisk winter day for a walk around the property, Francine heading home to dress for a gathering with her boyfriend of the moment, and Trinity and Jerry taking a ride in Trinity’s new car. She’d finally replaced her abused old sedan with a station wagon, but as far as wagons went, it was a pretty sweet one.

  Left alone with Daisy, Ben had mumbled something about seeing to all the trash they’d amassed that afternoon and he walked past where she leaned against the kitchen doorway. On his way out with two overstuffed bags, she goosed him…and not even coyly.

  He dropped the bags and rubbed his sore rear. “What’s that about?”

  Thunder cracked outside, and they both turned their attention to the door’s glass to assess the darkening sky. When he looked at her again, she grinned and folded her arms over her belly.

  “What’s a girl gotta do to get some attention?” she asked.

  Ben let his eyes go wide. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  The first drops of rain pattered against the roof. Ben hoped his parents at the good sense to turn back at that flash of lightning. He nudged the bags out of the doorway into the corner and crossed his own arms while waiting for her to answer.

  She narrowed her eyes and cocked her head to the side. “Are you not attracted to me?”

  He gaped. “You’re shitting me, right?”

  She shrugged. “You haven’t touched me in months. I’m pregnant, but I’m still a woman, Ben.”

  He stared at her blank expression, disbelieving. And then her lips began to twitch at the corners before she fell completely into a state of uncontrollable giggling.

  He didn’t think it was funny. “Stop teasing me.”

  She managed to gain control of herself. “Sorry. I’ve never done this before. I’m pretty awkward. How do I do this?”

  “Do what, exactly?” He pushed the door out as his father pulled his mother through the door, sopping wet. They headed straight for the laundry room.

  Daisy’s cheeks flushed as she stared down at her rounded belly. “Uh…flirt. It’s never been a tool in my arsenal, and…” She shook her head and looked into his eyes. “I’m just pathetic.”

  He laughed and rolled his eyes. “Ugh, zeg dat niet. You’re not, although you are rather infuriating.”

 
“Am I?”

  “You’re joking, right? Did Jerry put you up to this?”

  “You’re making this hard.”

  He grinned and leaned his butt against the kitchen counter edge. “Oh? Tell me what exactly I’m making difficult. I don’t understand.”

  She sighed and shifted her weight. “I’ll be right back. I need to get something out of my car.”

  “Hurry. It’s raining. Brr.” He feigned a shudder.

  She narrowed her eyes at him and stepped outside.

  What was that damned confounding woman up to?

  * * *

  Of course he would make it hard for her. She didn’t think he’d just roll over and tell her, “Oh, yes, Daisy—let’s just pick right up where we left off, shall we? Now where were we, my love? Ah, I believe I suggested we get married?”

  She fiddled with her key fob and grunted at herself. It hadn’t been her plan to keep him on the hook so long, but the more time that elapsed, the harder it got for her to say anything. She’d wanted to tell him weeks ago—even as far back as Halloween—that she was ready, but feared she’d sound too desperate. Pregnant and desperate, just like Momma had been.

  She wasn’t desperate, and she understood that now, but she did miss him. Missed being with him…missed his kisses and his respectful treatment of her body. And she loved the Rouses, even Louis who usually seemed overwhelmed but happy about it. As far as families went, it was one she could picture herself in. They got her—didn’t make her do anything outside her comfort zone and that’s probably what brought her around so fast. They hadn’t poked, hadn’t denigrated her, hadn’t held any expectations for her other than she just be. That’s why she knew that she was just fine the way she was, and she was just fine for Ben.

  Rain dripped down her face and she watched cars zip past, sluicing water with their tires. The ditch was filling. Pretty soon, it’d be swimmable.

  “Hmm.”

  She waded into the yard, letting cold water fill her sneakers and drench her woolen socks.

  The kitchen door opened. “Daisy, what are you doing?”