Daisy's Choice (A Tale of Three Hearts)

by Mynx, Sienna

  She took the folder from him. Stepped back. “Goodbye, Aiden.”

  ****

  Aiden’s eyes shut when the door closed, the taste of her, smell of her, feel of her, all of her still with him. She punished him by giving him exactly what he craved and taking it away all over again. “I hate her!” He grabbed the phone at the center of the conference table and ripped it from its wires, throwing it at the wall. His rage consuming him, he flipped over the conference desk to its side, releasing his fury. "I hate you," he groaned.

  ****

  Daisy, outside the door, clutched the folder to her chest. She heard the slamming of office furniture and the destruction beyond the door to her back. She knew from that pained look in his eye she had hurt him deeply. Part of her wanted to return to tell him the truth, but another part of her hated him so much she didn’t understand the truth. His unraveling was his own doing, not hers.

  Then she heard her name escape him and fled. Finding the women’s bathroom, she hurried inside. Tossing the file to the sink she went to the stall, dry heaving, bent over the toilet. Sucking in deep breaths, tears flowed and she released them all as quickly as she could. Hating the idea of weeping now, she played the only hand he left her with, and she won.

  She was finally free of Aiden Keane.

  It was over. She could be done with him and the past once and for all. She cleaned herself, fixed herself in the mirror, then grabbed the folder and left. No one dared tried to stop her. When the elevator doors closed, she clutched the folder tightly to her chest watching the numbers, ready to leave and never look behind.

  ****

  Pete followed the GPS. It made finding her address very easy. A Google search on her phone number and name brought it up. Now he rode the coast looking at the million dollar beach homes, wondering which one was hers. When the GPS announced it to be next on the left, his heart moved to his throat. He’d found her. Driving up behind her sports car, he stared up at the place in disbelief. Somehow, this did seem like Daisy.

  ****

  Aiden strolled out of the shower. He slipped on his robe, but his skin and hair remained damp. He’d spent the first hour after she left drinking, and the next hour in the hotel shower forcing himself to erase her from his heart. As he walked around the bedroom, he heard movement in his suite. He found Donovan fixing his drink. “What are you doing here?”

  “I see you let her go, I’m impressed.”

  “Give her back her fucking company. It’s done.”

  Donovan eyed him as he sat down and expelled a deep sigh. “I got your message; I’ve already placed the call to her attorney. So it’s done? Just like that?”

  “I said it was, didn’t I!” Aiden snapped. "To hell with her," he mumbled, then dropped down in a chair and slumped into the leather cushion. He closed his eyes.

  Donovan nodded, lifting his glass to him. "After all this time, being a father was a deal breaker, huh? I have to admit that detective you hired was well worth the money for the information. Even I missed it.”

  Aiden opened his eyes. “What?”

  “How did she explain it?” Donovan sat across from him. “I expected world war three. We all heard how you trashed the conference room. What I didn’t expect is you being the type of man that would turn and run from his own kid. Surprised she walked out of there alive after pulling the shit she did. If a woman had my kid and kept me from it, I would—”

  Donovan lowered his glass. He looked up at Aiden who sat there staring. “She did tell you who Amy Locke was, didn’t she?”

  ****

  Daisy had only been home an hour. She was showered and now in a white t-shirt and jeans, her hair combed back from her face. She stared down at the contents of the folder in front of her. There were pictures of her picking Amy up from school, a copy of her daughter’s birth certificate, and all of her baby-girl’s medical records. She reached for the glass of wine with a shaky hand and sipped.

  Then the phone rang. She lowered the glass and answered. “Hello, Jeffery.”

  “Are you sure about this? They turned it back over. He’s signing the company back to you.”

  “I’m sure. Sell Jahi, and put this house on the market. Oh, I also want you to have a check drafted and sent to Aiden Keane for a million dollars.”

  “Danielle, er, Daisy, there's still the matter of your identity. Who you are?”

  “I know. If we handle it right, people will forget Danielle, just like they forgot Daisy.”

  The line beeped.

  “Let me call you back.”

  “We need to talk about this!” Jeffery said.

  “Just do it.” She clicked over. “Maggie, hi, yes… bring her home. Gracias.”

  Daisy sat the phone down. She would move them to Paris, or maybe Italy. She even considered Canada. Whatever it was, she was leaving Danielle Locke behind.

  The doorbell rang as she reached for her wine once more. Confused, she rose from the table.

  She never had guest.

  What if Aiden lied and uncovered the truth about Amy? What if he came and her daughter was on the way? She stopped staring at the door. The bell rang again.

  Sucking in a deep breath, there was no point in turning him away now. If he went back on his word and opened that Pandora’s box, she would have to deal with him. Snatching the door, she shook her head in disbelief.

  “Pete? What are you doing here?”

  “Hi, Daisy. It's been a long time.”

  Chapter Nine

  “Excuse me. Do you know where I can find Nina Stevens?”

  The plastic wrapped syringes dropped from her hand into the cardboard box. She lifted from her hunches, hand to back, wincing through the muscle spasm. Twelve hours on her feet and she was near dropping. Her legs felt like liquid. Trapped in the aisle of an overstocked medical supply closet, her ears burned from the soft-spoken request.

  She stepped back from the shelf and peered out the open door at who mentioned her name. Janette Johnson Landers, Daisy’s oldest sister, was at the nurse’s station in front of Bea. She clutched a tissue in one hand and looked extremely distressed.

  Janette’s hair was smoothed into a neat braided bun behind her head and her glasses pushed up on her tiny nose, magnifying a pair of almond shaped eyes that the Johnson women were infamous for. Minus the spectacles, Janette was an older more muted version of Daisy herself.

  As if sensing Nina’s presence, her eyes lifted and locked with Nina’s, drawing her out from under the shadow of the doorway. “Hi, Janette.”

  “Nina, hi. Um, do you think we can talk? Please,” she asked with an evident strain to her voice. Her lips pressed into a thin line. Yes, she’d been crying. Something was wrong.

  Bea wheeled around on the stool that barely held her wide romp. She worked her fat neck, her jowls and double chin jiggling, “You already had a smoke break.”

  “It won’t be long, Bea. I’m working a double tonight, remember?”

  “Humph, I don’t care if it’s a triple. Don’t go too far. You got maternity tonight and I ain’t dealing with those paranoid baby-mama’s on six.”

  “Right.” Nina nodded for Janette to follow her. She wrapped her stethoscope around her neck and dropped her pager in the front pocket of her scrubs, walking out of the closed in station. Nina clocked in every hour she could so as to not think about Pete. Hell, she wished she could work while sleeping to force him from her dreams. Between her shifts and packs of cigarettes, she was tired, numb, and plain sad. Now this. Why would Janette want to talk to her of all people?

  Choosing a room that was just emptied, Nina held the door open for Janette to enter. She did so with a hurried shuffle to her feet. Janette moved toward the stripped bed and lowered her purse from her shoulder. She turned around and gave Nina a small smile. “Sorry to bother you at work, Nina. I went by Hennesen Auto and I was told that Pete was out of town. I wasn’t sure where else to go.”

  “It’s okay. What’s wrong?”

  Janette shook he
r head. She began to pace, wiping her hand at the invisible layer of sweat to her damp forehead. “Mama. I could kill her. I could kill her.”

  Nina frowned.

  Janette’s weepy gaze lifted to Nina's face. The hurt of her mother’s betrayal lay naked in her eyes. Nina drew in a breath; she didn’t know what to say.

  “Mama told me, Nina. She said that Daisy came home and that you let her in to see daddy before he died?”

  Nina nodded.

  Janette’s eyes welled with tears behind her glasses. “She chased Daisy out of town and didn’t care. She kept her from our father’s funeral. Never even mentioned it to any of us! I can’t believe she did that. Our own mother. Did you talk to her? Mama said you did. Did she go to Pete?”

  “Um, yes. Yes, I did. She didn’t see Pete. She was here then… gone.”

  “How was she?” Janette took a step toward her. “Lord please, tell me she was okay. Did she need money? Did she look okay to you? I can’t believe a word mama says now.”

  Nina recalled the air of sophistication that cloaked Daisy as she stepped out of her limo. Money was the least of Daisy’s worries. It angered her to see how badly Daisy’s abandonment of her family had hurt them, yet she prospered. How she could let them think for years that she was dead or worse was beyond her.

  “Nina? What is it?”

  "I didn’t really talk to her; she was more concerned about Reverend Johnson. But she seemed well.”

  Janette removed her glasses. Tears glistened on her trembling lashes. She let the tears drop into her lap and lowered her head. “I don’t know why Mama would do this. I've prayed and prayed for years for some sign and for Daisy to come home. When she didn’t come to the funeral we all thought she was dead. Now she’s out there alone thinking we don’t love her.”

  This was something Nina was good at, family pain. Helping others deal with the difficult and sometimes impossible news. She often times wondered if she was a nurse or counselor. Wiping her damp palms on her side, she approached Janette, stopped and laid a caring hand to her shoulder. “What exactly did your mother say?”

  “She said Daisy had some new name? Is that true? That she was living out West somewhere? That she came to her bragging about her life? That doesn’t sound like Daisy. Yeah she was fool-hearted, but she wouldn’t brag to mama over daddy’s death bed. Daisy and daddy were so close. She worshipped him. What mama did was cruel.”

  “Janette, calm down.”

  “I have to find her! I can’t even think straight. Daddy’s gone. Daisy’s here and gone. Mama’s locked away in that room upstairs, crying constantly. No faith in our family. My husband and my kids need me, but I can’t… I have to find her. I—”

  “I know where she is.”

  Janette’s head shot up. “You do?”

  “Yes, she um, well she left your mother a card.”

  “Where is she?”

  “California. A place called Mango Grove. Pete… he went after her.”

  “Pete! Pete? No! She’ll just runaway again.”

  “I don’t think so. I think your mother is right. She has another identity and another life,” Nina sighed. “I told him. Well, he found out, and he left yesterday.”

  “Mango Grove, California? This makes no sense. What does she need another identity for? Is she in danger?”

  “She lives under the name Danielle Locke. I think she works for some kind of spa. It’s called Jahi. I can call Pete for you to get more details.”

  “Would you? Wait. No, don’t call him.” Janette stood up. “I’m going there. I want to see her.”

  Nina nodded. “Good for you. You should.”

  “Come with me.”

  “No, I can’t.” Nina stepped back. The pain in her heart became a sick fiery gnawing at the mere thought of it. She could see Janette soften. Hollow Creek was relatively small. Everyone knew how serious things were with her and Pete. Hell, they were living together. She was mortified in just sharing that her man walked out to chase after his ex.

  Janette reached for Nina’s hand and squeezed it to reassure her. “I don’t know anything about California. If you say Pete is there, then I can only imagine how you feel about it.”

  “It’s not my concern.” Nina tried to pull away, but Janette held firm.

  “What happened between them? Do you know? You do, don’t you? Tell me.”

  Nina swallowed her hurt. It was all so humiliating. Even in school, Daisy could bat her eyes and all in the room would turn invisible. Damn it, they were grown women and she still couldn’t get out of Daisy Johnson’s shadow. She’d be a hateful bitch to wish her ill, but she was no saint to join the let’s ‘save-Daisy’ train.

  “I don’t know anything else. Pete and I aren’t together anymore. I just know that he left.”

  “Nina, please. You do. I can tell. Tell me. Did he ever say anything? I tried to ask him before, and he wouldn’t say much, I suspected he told daddy though. Somehow I just got that feeling in the things daddy would say.”

  Nina shook her head. She withdrew her hand. “I don’t know anything, Janette. Here is Pete’s number.” She plucked a pen from her front pocket and wrote it on a small pad she had tucked there. “Call him. Tell him you’re coming and you want to see Daisy. He’ll help you.”

  “Nina.” She gripped her wrist once more, staying the action of scribbling. “I’m sorry about you and Pete. I have no right to ask you for this, but Daisy ran from us. I think she ran from him. I don’t want her to know I’m coming. I don’t trust Pete––because well, I just don’t trust this thing between them. He left my sister behind, and I can’t get my head around that. How could he come back to town but Daisy didn’t? Please help me. I know it’s a lot to ask. Just go with me and help me find her. I’ll fly you right back. Please.”

  Nina rolled her eyes up to the ceiling. “I can’t.”

  “Nina, I’m begging you. I need your help.”

  ****

  “What are you doing here,” she repeated the words numbly. It was too much to see him again and have him materialize from thin air after all this time. She shuddered inwardly. The simple act of breathing became arduous. The question lingered between them. She asked it out of reflex, but after a day like today, she couldn’t claim surprise.

  Daddy always said the chickens came home to roost. He’d say, “Daisy, what you do in the dark, will only come out in light, baby-girl. No point in hiding the truth. God sees all… and he’ll show it when he’s ready.”

  In her hand was the doorknob. She tightened her hold on it, palm slippery and fingers cramping. She ached to slam it shut on the light, run from the truth just one more day. And if it were not for the shock of her first love’s sudden arrival, she would have done just that. The shock of it all kept her immobile.

  Pete hadn’t changed at all. He wore a pair of faded jeans he had when they were together and a grey t-shirt over a white one with that familiar rugged Abercrombie look. The blue of his gaze was as deep and dark as the Pacific washing up on the shores behind her home. Age hadn’t touched anything but the few lines around his eyes. They had a worried almost mournful look to them as they bore through her.

  She never thought she’d see him again. It was easy to convince herself that if their paths did cross he’d be the first to turn and go the other way. And now, he was here, on her doorstep, giving that look that made her feel special––one of a kind.

  “Let me in, Daisy,” he spoke. His voice was smooth and warm, similar to the way he’d speak to her when they fought back in the Hollow and he grew weary of the argument, ready to give in and love her once more, always on her terms. She took so much for granted with Pete back then. She was such a brat. Looking at him now, through a woman’s eyes, she saw him so differently.

  “I came a long way.” His tone was irascibly patient as he took a step toward her.

  “How? Why are you here?” she repeated.

  Why indeed. Why had he come? How did he find her? Why now? Why now, daddy, why now
?

  “You want to talk about it right here? Like this?” Pete asked.

  With no other choice, she stepped back and allowed him to enter. He strolled pass her, his hands shoved into his pockets and his shoulders hunched forward. There was a smell of Kentucky sunshine on his skin and that spicy aftershave he and most men back home wore. She felt a stab of longing for home after that mild sample. Her eyes followed him, and she could barely close the door for staring. He stepped through her home, taking it all in.

  Daisy’s place was more windows than walls with white floors and furnishings. Keeping it immaculate was not an easy task with a four year-old Tasmanian devil spinning about. In fact, she and Amy lived mostly upstairs where she’d painted the halls and rooms any color her baby could dream up.