Daisy's Choice (A Tale of Three Hearts)

by Mynx, Sienna

“About what I said, calling you a whore.”

  “It’s okay. You’ve been pretty clear about what you think of me.”

  “It’s not you, Daisy. None of it is your burden alone, you know? I mean, well not alone… I did just as much. I came here because… I came to tell you that, and—”

  “And to reclaim your pride,” she interjected. “I get it, Pete. Thing is, you have more pride than you admit to. It’s why you can’t stop this anger; the way you punish yourself and me. You don’t want me, Pete. You want what you think you lost in Vegas. Out of the three of us, you were the only one that fought for your soul. Don’t you know that? I admire you. I always have. Things are always so simple with you. So black and white… none of the grey.”

  “And with you things are always full of color, Daisy. It’s what I loved about you; the way you opened my eyes to so much.”

  “Maybe, but I was always searching for something; something bigger than me and you. I just didn’t know it would be my becoming a mother.”

  “She’s a beautiful little girl. Green eyes?” he said, knowing that it was a trait in his family to have blue, but still wondering if that was a sign she was his. “When I saw her Daisy, I knew. She’s mine.”

  “I can’t say that for sure. I did sleep with Aiden without protection.”

  “Doesn’t matter. What we shared was special once.” Pete caught himself. “Doesn’t matter. A man knows his child. She’s mine.”

  “Then let’s agree to be civil until we figure this out. Let go of a little of our anger and pride. Stop with the guilt, okay? I just don’t think it’s about you and me anymore. It stopped being after that night. We can’t go back.”

  “Yeah, I get that,” he said, closing his eyes.

  “We were good once, in our own way. You were my best friend, Pete. You gave me my dreams, took me from the Hollow.”

  “We should have never left,” he mumbled.

  “No, Pete. You should have never left. Hollow Creek is home for you. When this is over, you should go back.”

  “Not if she’s mine. I can’t leave her. I won’t.” He didn’t realize his conviction over it until he said it. He wasn’t going to leave her behind. If Hollow Creek was home, then it would be Amy’s home too. He was certain of it.

  “My family?” Daisy asked, “How’s my family? My sisters? Were you um… there? The funeral, I mean?”

  “Yeah, your father wanted me to be a pallbearer.”

  “He did?” He heard her take a breath. Pete gave a pained smile. “Yeah, said he thought it would bring us together somehow.”

  “He said that?”

  “Yeah.”

  He could hear her smile through the phone. “And mama, do you know if she’s okay? Janette, Denise… did you see any of them?”

  “They were holding on. Your mom, well she’s taking it hard, I heard.”

  Daisy sighed. "I figured as much."

  “You should go home, Daisy. They need to see you and hear from you. There’s no need, and if Amy is mine. Maybe you should consider returning to Hollow Creek.”

  She didn’t say anything more. Pete lifted, his back killing him now. His shirt was wet and sticky with sweat and specs of blood. It seeped through and stained the comforter. “Tomorrow at one,” he breathed, realizing he’d have to take care of himself.

  “Tomorrow at one. Bye,” she said and clicked off.

  “Bye,” he said to disconnected line. He placed the phone back on the receiver and wiped his hand down his face. All day he tried to call Nina. If she had seen him today and if she’d heard him, what would she think? He had to get his act together, and soon, or he’d lose it all. He felt that.

  ****

  Aiden looked up from his drink. He sat in the hotel lobby near the front by the glass walls, waiting. Donovan moved smoothly on his cane. His eyes focused on him. The call he placed to his friend was an urgent one. He needed immediate action.

  “What happened to you?” Donovan asked, looking at his pasty skin and the dark circles under his eyes. He realized in that moment that besides booze, he hadn’t eaten. “I’m fine. Sit down.”

  He did.

  “I need you in Hollow Creek. Tonight, now.”

  “Wha—”

  “Pete’s girlfriend. Find her, and bring her here.”

  “Wait—”

  “I want Pete gone. It’s time for Daisy to know she exists, so he can stop playing the victim!”

  “Aiden!” Donovan snapped. “This has gone too far. Buying her company and going to the kid’s school is over the top. Look at you! We have business to attend to and you’re letting yourself go mad. If you’re worried about becoming your father, then take a look in the mirror, friend. You don’t let her go and that madness, his madness, is yours.”

  “Don’t you ever! Ever! Say that to me!” Aiden yelled.

  The hotel clerk and concierge looked over, alarmed. Aiden shook with fury. “Don’t you ever—”

  Donovan sighed. “I helped you because I thought it was love. But it’s not. She doesn’t want you and you can’t force her. Go after Pete’s girlfriend and you play into his hands. Have the test, then decide.”

  “I want him gone! Get the girlfriend here. Give her money or whatever she wants. Just do it.”

  “And then what? What if after it is all said and done the kid isn’t yours? What if we are both wrong? Does it end there?”

  Aiden drew back. “She’s mine. I... I feel it. She’s mine. And I don’t need Pete here. I have to figure it out. Just get the fucking girlfriend here!”

  He rose, but Donovan put up his cane blocking him. He couldn’t believe the gall. He glared at him, exhausted but ready.

  “If the kid isn’t yours and Daisy wants Pete, you let it go, Aiden. You have a life you built from nothing. Don’t let this woman take you down, because if you stop and look at what you’re becoming, you will see what she’s doing to you.”

  Aiden stepped away. He felt like every eye in the lobby was on him. He walked briskly to the elevator and pounded on the button until the doors opened. He went inside and waited for the doors to close before he let out another breath. Dropping his head back on the mirrored wall, he let the first tear fall, alone, where no one could see.

  Chapter Thirteen

  It was not a good morning. First came Magdalena's call. She apologized and explained her absence. Apparently, her sister's recovery would take more time than she initially thought. Daisy learned it would be at least another four weeks. Four weeks! After the worry settled in, Daisy realized there was no need to be too stressed over this development. Having Magdalena there with Aiden’s unpredictable nature and Pete’s mission to claim what is his would just further complicate things. Still, Maggie, as she sometimes called her, had kept her grounded. She was a surrogate mother to give her sage advice on a child that tested every boundary she could from the moment she took her first step.

  Before Daisy rolled out of bed, the second news of the day was delivered. Jeffery called and informed her that she would have to take legal action against Clara to keep her from laying claim to her shares of Jahi. It appears Clara Andrews's greed knew no bounds; she wanted to be bought out. The crafty bitch hadn't sold all her shares to Aiden Keane. Daisy's plan to sell the spa and run with Amy was thwarted. She wouldn't dare risk the exposure to her own crimes of fraud. For a brief moment, she considered calling Aiden and demanding he fix the mess he created. But Daisy knew better. Aiden would just use this to indebt her. She was trapped.

  She should have stayed in bed.

  “I don’t like eggs.”

  Daisy drew away from her running thoughts at the proclamation from her daughter. Amy stood there glaring at the stove. Her little face pinched in disgust.

  “Since when? You love eggs. Maggie makes them for you on Sunday mornings.”

  “Your eggs taste funny,” Amy protested. Daisy looked to the skillet. She added a little milk and didn’t scramble them as hard as Magdalena. Daisy could only smile at her daught
er's observation.

  “Where’s my Maggie?”

  “It’s mommy this morning. Mommy’s cooking for you.”

  “I want cereal then.” Amy pointed to the top of the fridge. Tucked between Raisin Bran and a tin of oatmeal was a box of Cocoa-Puffs.

  “Cereal?” Daisy’s eyes lowered to the breakfast she worked with care: pancakes, eggs and bacon. Usually, it was her child’s delight. Now little Ms. Sunshine wanted cereal. Turning down the gas flame under the skillet, she moved the frying pan to a cool eye on the stove. She wiped her hands on the dishtowel hanging from the door of the stove. “Fine, cereal. Go sit.”

  But Amy didn’t move. She stood there staring after her mother. At first, Daisy barely noticed. She went around the kitchen island, equipped with a sink and hanging pots above on an iron rack. Her focus was trained on the cabinets near the refrigerator where she located her daughter’s favorite bowl. Yellow with pink flowers, it had a straw out of the side for her to sip milk turned chocolate from her cocoa-puffs. When Daisy turned from the fridge, she nearly stepped on her.

  “Amy, I told you to go sit down.”

  “Will he come back?”

  “Who?”

  “Daddy?” she asked, rubbing her eyes. “Will he come to play with me? I didn’t get to ask him, mommy. He left and didn’t say bye.”

  Daisy frowned. They had the 'daddy conversation' after Aiden left and had it once more when she tucked her in bed. Once again, Amy picked at the same wound. She stood before her in bare feet dressed in a white t-shirt and a pair of pajama shorts she put on backwards when she got out of bed. Daisy wanted to hug her. She wanted to cry and hold her until all the questions and lies slipped away. She was as confused and lost as her daughter.

  “His name is Aiden, Amy, not daddy, okay?”

  “But he said, daddy, and I want him to come again.”

  “Want him? What does that mean?”

  Amy glared. She stumped her foot ready to explode in tears. Daisy reminded herself she was talking to a four year-old; a confused four year-old. “Today, we’re going to the park. Isn’t that nice?”

  Amy settled down.

  “You will meet someone else. His name is Pete. Do you remember him?”

  “Pete?” Amy repeated.

  “Come on.” She walked out of the kitchen, her robe flowing open. Leading Amy to the table, she set the bowl down in front of her favorite chair. Amy climbed up and Daisy pushed her chair in.

  How far should she take this talk? It seemed the more she said the more she confused her with her selective information. She wanted to be honest, but she feared honesty. She feared it since she started living a lie.

  Daisy glanced up at the patio door. It could be seen from the dinette table. Last night, she’d covered it with cut open garbage bags and electric tape. The ocean breeze in the morning, with the approaching tide, had it bubbling and puffing from the force of the winds. Here was the evidence of what telling these men selective truths could bring: destruction and pain. Everything was a mess, and it was her fault.

  “Mommy? Is Pete coming to my house again too?”

  Daisy gently ran her finger through her daughter’s tangles. “I think so, baby. He really would like to meet you.”

  “Does he know magic?” Amy asked, spooning more cereal.

  Daisy frowned. "Well, I guess we'll have to ask him."

  When she turned to fix her plate of the breakfast cooling on the stove, there was knocking at the door.

  “Stay here,” Daisy ordered. Amy didn’t object, but her little eyes followed her mother as she left her side and disappeared through their home. The knocking was soft taps and not the angry pounds from earlier. Maybe that was a good sign. She opened the door preparing to face off with Aiden and refuse him entrance. She didn’t. Couldn’t. It wasn’t him.

  “Janette?”

  Janette rushed her, throwing her arms around her neck. Intense astonishment gripped Daisy by the throat, rendering her speechless. She took a quick breath, her arms slowly lifting to return the hug.

  “How… why did you find me?”

  “Nina, she helped me. Look at you! Look at you!” Janette held her face firm. They stared into each other’s eyes. Daisy’s heart had all but stopped beating. She didn’t know what to make of the visit and how to feel about seeing her sister or her sister seeing her.

  “Mommy, who at the door?” Amy immediately latched to her mother’s legs, peeking around them at the visitor. Janette’s hands dropped away. She looked down at Amy, then back up to Daisy, then to Amy once more.

  “Mommy?” Janette repeated.

  “She’s my mommy. I’m Amy,” she answered. Daisy couldn’t read her sister in that moment. Her face was completely void of emotion, until their eyes met and all the questions passed between them unsaid. One thing was clear. A secret of this magnitude was the ultimate betrayal in their family. For her to have a child and not tell them, knowing how they felt about children, family, and the bonds they shared, was tantamount to committing a crime. They all knew what Daddy instilled in them and how much he doted on his grandkids. For her to do this was like turning her back on everything their family represented. And she wanted to sink through the floor at having been discovered this way.

  “Daisy, she’s yours?”

  Daisy reached behind her and pulled Amy forth. She then swept her up into her arms, heaving her to her hip. “Yes, Janette. Meet Amy, my baby-girl.”

  “Well aren’t you the prettiest, sweetest little thing.”

  Amy shyly dropped her head on her mother’s shoulder. Her small arm hooked around Daisy's neck to the point of near choking.

  “I know you’re not shy,” Daisy laughed. Amy turned her face away. Daisy released an awkward sigh. Fresh tears of shame and guilt shone in her eyes. She gently passed her daughter off to her sister. Amy went into her aunt's arms without complaint.

  “She’s beautiful… she’s wonderful," Janette’s voice faltered. “Oh my, Daisy. Oh my.”

  “Come inside,” Daisy said opening the door wider. “I think we should talk.”

  ****

  The phone rang outside of the bathroom. Nina didn’t bother to go for it. Pete had resorted to calling her back to back. His tactic was working. She definitely was unable to keep him off her mind. But for the most part, she refused to act on those urges. There was no telling what message he wanted to deliver.

  Nina, baby, I’m sorry. I tried to fight it. I just can’t. Daisy is the one I want and always has been. I mean we were okay, but you know I always loved Daisy. I’m sorry if I hurt you. I won’t be coming back to the Hollow. You take care of yourself. I care.

  Nina closed her eyes and pushed the phantom goodbye from her thoughts. The only reason she didn’t turn off the ringer and lessen her torture was because she was on call with the hospital. The round the clock hours were breaking her down. But these days, work was all she had. It was a fair trade.

  She faced the vanity in her bathroom, brushing hard, scrubbing her teeth and gums, and lathering her tongue with minty paste almost to the point of frenzy. The phone stopped ringing. Her heart always sank to the bottom of her stomach when it eventually did. Now it clenched so painfully tight.

  After all, he was still in Mango Grove. Still there and she was here. If he’d met with Daisy, why did he stay?

  Nina closed her eyes. She saw him and Daisy in her mind kissing and reconnecting. She could see him making love to her in the same sweet gentle manner that could reduce her to tears of joy and a jellied mess of emotion and love when he was done. She could see him spooning Daisy at night as he did her, whispering in her ear about things she’d take into her dreams: plans for them to have a bigger place and for his garage to get off the ground were not going to happen. Neither would their dream for her to work fewer hours form.

  Her hand went flat to her belly until she heard a knock at the door.

  At nine in the morning, who would come knocking? She walked out of the bathroom, toothbrush tightly gri
pped in her hand. The person knocked again. Their apartment complex was relatively safe even though Andy McQueen moved in downstairs and decided to have Ozzie Fest every night around ten o’clock.

  When Pete was there and she was trying to sleep, he’d go downstairs and threaten to kick Andy’s ass if he didn’t turn it off. He’d then come back and tuck her in under the covers before crashing with a beer on the sofa in the living room. Pete was so tender and loving.

  The knocking again. Nina's confusion flipped to curiosity. She licked the paste off her lips and ran her hand through her short-cropped curls. “Uh, who is it?”

  “Nina Stevens?”

  “Who is it?”

  “My name is Donovan McBride.”

  The name meant nothing, but the voice sounded so strong and official. She immediately took a step back. Turning, she hurried to the bathroom, tossing the toothbrush in the sink and wiping the excess from her mouth.