Daisy's Choice (A Tale of Three Hearts)

by Mynx, Sienna

  Aiden clenched his jaw.

  “It’s like a minefield with you," Daisy said. "I don’t know where to step. You’re so closed off and away from the world, you know? I can see you at the Shamrock in that kingdom you built, watching everyone through those security lenses with contempt. Every day you do it. Don’t you? You surround yourself in others greed, then blame them for it. You hate greed. Your father was destroyed because of it. Yet, you force yourself to be reminded of it. That’s a choice I don’t understand, Aiden.”

  “Don’t feel sorry for me, Daisy. My life isn’t that pathetic,” he said bitterly.

  She nodded. “Okay, like I said, I understand.”

  He glared. “No you don’t. You can’t. It’s always this… this push and pull between us. I don’t think we’ve ever had a honest, um—”

  “Conversation?”

  “A conversation.”

  She shook her head. “Of course we did. We talked plenty. Well, I did the talking, and you did the staring, like you’re doing now.”

  “I like listening to you.” He shrugged off his anger.

  “Nope, don’t even go there. You like being silent, observant.” She playfully poked him in the side. “Digging in. Huh? Revealing nothing.”

  “Wrong. I just like to hear you talk.”

  “Really? So you'd enjoy an in-depth conversation about um… eh… the Travel Channel?”

  “I watch it now too,” he smiled.

  “Do you? Seriously?”

  He smirked. “If I said yes, what’s my reward?”

  She rolled her eyes. “You’ll never change.”

  “Depends. What exactly do you mean by change. Will I always be intense, stubborn, and set in my ways?”

  “I say, yes.”

  “You’d be correct, Ms. Johnson.”

  She smiled at his reply. Her hands tugged at the front of the shirt he loaned her, closing it around her. Even if the night air didn’t chill him, he felt compelled to make her comfortable. He moved in closer to put his arm around her shoulder. She looked up at him but didn’t shy away. Her arm eased around his waist.

  “How’s your arm?”

  “Fine,” he said, more focused on holding her and the walk at her side.

  “Who is Danielle Locke?” he asked.

  “She’s the owner of Jahi, the creator of every girl’s fantasy. Jahi is really that, you know, a girl’s fantasy. It’s kinda what makes a woman celebrate her femininity.”

  “No.” he squeezed her shoulder. “Your sister mentioned the name as if she knew it. I'm wondering why you’d choose it.” He looked down at her. “It’s a name you know. Isn’t it?”

  Daisy nodded. “Yeah, a fantasy.”

  “Fantasy?”

  “Yes. Why is that strange? You of all people know I love fantasy."

  Aiden chuckled. "True."

  "Let me explain. When I was a little girl, every weekend we’d do the shopping and other errands. Saturday mornings meant me and my sisters got a trip to Main Street.”

  “I saw it when I passed through Hollow Creek and thought about buying it,” he joked.

  Daisy glared and his smile faded. He saw her eyes narrow with suspicion, but whatever she was going to say she decided against. The joke had fallen flat. He admitted it was strange that he was roaming the streets of her hometown when she was trying so hard to keep the truth about them away.

  “There was a nail salon. I used to wait outside of it while mama shopped across the street. I watched the ladies get their toes and nails manicured. Fantasize. I was eight.”

  “Thus your love for salons?”

  “Thus my love for Danielle Locke,” Daisy smiled. “Home girl was fierce.”

  “Home girl?” he frowned.

  She hit his chest. “Listen. She was so pretty. Definitely your type, Aiden.”

  “My type, huh?”

  “Yep, smelled so expensive and fancy. She wore these big church hats,” she gestured. “When she walked in, the women fanned and rolled their eyes. But the men… Well every eye was on Mrs. Locke. She’d sit at the front. I always got a good look at her. She was Marvella Jefferson’s daughter. Married this rich man and left before I was born. I think he was white cause it was a big deal for some reason.”

  “Why would his being white—”

  “C’mon, Aiden, south of the Mason Dixon line it still is a big deal in towns like Hollow Creek.”

  “But Pete is white.”

  Daisy smiled. “Yeah he is. Pete don’t give a damn about what anybody thinks of him. He was the biggest catch in town and he did as he pleased. His mother hated me on sight. She probably still does. Pete's color blind. He's just cool like that.”

  “Yeah, Pete’s a great guy,” he said snidely.

  Daisy responded only with a smile. “Anyways, she came back from New York City when her mama took sick and left again after she died.”

  “I’m getting a visual.” He smiled at the animated way she explained.

  “Well, one Sunday she asked momma if she could take me shopping. Just picked me out of all my sisters. I guess she saw it in me, that thing you saw.”

  He stopped and frowned. “What thing?”

  Daisy kept talking, forcing him to walk. “She told me about New York, including things you shouldn’t tell an eight year old. Oh, and she gave me a sip of her ‘get-lose-juice’. That’s what she called it. She kept it in a silver flask down in her fancy bag. It was the first time I saw a Gucci purse. Hell, it was the first time I heard of Gucci.”

  Aiden frowned. “Wait? She got you drunk?”

  Daisy laughed. “Yeah, well no. It was just a sip. She was something else. I worshiped her. Because of her, I got my nails and toes done and the prettiest dress. Then just like that, she was gone. But I never forgot her. Guess when mama saw her name on my business card she assumed the worst. Yep, she assumed I was Danielle Locke.” Daisy stopped again. “Nothing wrong with fantasies or dreams, Aiden. You just got to know what to reach for… and what not to… I guess.”

  “I never dream,” Aiden admitted.

  “Never?”

  “No. Not like that.” He dropped on the sand and she did too. “I usually just take what I want or remove any obstacles that prevents it. I don’t spend time wishing. Wishes don’t come true.” He looked over to see her watching and listening attentively. “Well, that was until you, I mean. I guess you were the one that got away.”

  “Be serious. Everybody dreams.”

  Aiden returned his gaze to the stars. Daisy moved in closer. “Aiden, seriously. You've never dreamed of anything? You close your eyes and what… nothing?”

  “If I close my eyes… nothing. I rarely sleep… not long lasting sleep. Just short, in between sleep. Too busy to sleep. Liquor helps. If you drink enough, you’re so numb you don’t need sleep,” he chuckled bitterly.

  She drew her legs up. Her arms wrapped around her knees. He watched her dig her toes in the sand. The tunneling of her toes drew his hand. He brushed off the tiny grains and rubbed her pinky toe, gently.

  “That’s sad. Really sad that you don’t dream. And a little confusing. How could you obtain so much if you didn’t dream it first?”

  “When I was a kid, I guess I had an imagination, but it didn’t go very far. When I got a little older, it went even less. Nothing was ever given to me after my father died. So, I found a way.”

  “But didn’t you wish for something… fantasize for something?”

  Aiden looked out at the sea. “If I had to say that I had a wish outside of my stepmother being eaten by a monster… um… I guess I wanted to not be so invisible. Not be poor little Aiden Keane with the father that hung himself. I really wanted to be on the Lacrosse team.”

  “Lacrosse, what’s that?”

  “Think of it like a combination of soccer, basketball and hockey all in one.” He leaned over and bit her arm.

  She giggled.

  "So you wished you could make the Lacrosse team?”

  “No. I wa
nted to be on the Lacrosse team. I wanted to be the captain of the Lacrosse team. So I went for it. I planned how to take out the stronger kid and then I would rule.”

  “Take out?” She hung on those words, but Aiden decided to not take her down those roads. “I wanted to escape reform school so I planned it for months before I ran away.”

  “You ran away?”

  “ I lived on the streets of Ireland for two years. I was fourteen.” He looked over at Daisy, seeing the concern in her eyes. “I was a tough kid. I mostly had to be.”

  “You chose to live on the streets?”

  “I had no family, Daisy. Just a lot of adults telling me what to do and trying to make up for… for my dad.”

  “I can’t believe that’s true. I’m sure there were—”

  Aiden laughed. “No, Daisy. Nothing is more miserable than a lad's boyhood when he has no people and is living on the streets. The estate paid for school. For my prison. My stepmother was generous that way.” His voice drifted as his green eyes narrowed to angry slits and he continued to rub her foot. “It didn’t matter. I can look out for me… could.”

  “Did you graduate? School, college?”

  “Nope.”

  “How did you come to America? Speak such proper English and all?”

  “Proper English?” he smirked, peeking up at her. “I came to America because of boxing.”

  “Boxing!” she gasped. He could see her excitement over the nugget of truth. He grew increasingly uncomfortable with it, but he tried.

  “You were a boxer?” she repeated.

  “I was.”

  “Pete… that explains your move,” she said, throwing air punches. He laughed, shaking his head. She grinned down at him. “Stick and move. Stick and move. So you started boxing? Were you any good?”

  “I started at sixteen. A guy named O’Malley took me in. I was always big for my age. Tall and meaty. He saw how angry I was. He taught me how to control myself and my rage.”

  “Angry?”

  “Yeah, Daisy. I get angry.”

  “No kidding,” she smiled.

  “Got me an underweight belt though, here in America.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Seriously.”

  “Well damn. I thought you were too clean cut to be… well I guess… you always had that edge… that thing we call swagger.”

  “Swagger?” his brow lifted. “I like that word,” he said, his hand moving up the back of her leg to stroke her calf as he lay on his side in the sand staring at her. “So I came to America around seventeen. Got to tag along with other boxers under O’Malley and ended up in Vegas and… well I saw all those casinos… all the money to be made. Decided I’d own one. So I did. And the rest is Aiden Keane.”

  “Why do I get the feeling you’re leaving a whole lot out?”

  “Cause you’re smart and sexy. Um did I say sexy?” he said, moistening his lips. He had to stop feeling on her. It was hard, but he removed his hand. Her skin was like velvet. It was so soft. From the first time he held her, he noticed it—soft skin.

  “What happened to her?”

  The question threw him. He looked up and she was staring down at him. “What happened to your stepmother?”

  “She got what she deserved. It was later, much later. I wanted that most of all. So I made it happen. I didn’t dream it, Daisy. I planned it.”

  “So these plans of yours. You never made any to be in love?”

  Aiden smiled, then laughed. He dropped back on the sand, arm going behind his head.

  “What’s funny?”

  He tried to stop laughing but somehow couldn’t. She hit his chest and he grabbed her hand, forcing her down. She resisted at first but then lay with him, her head resting on his chest. The sand was hard. He didn’t mind. He liked being out there. He liked hearing the waves break over the shore… being with her.

  “No, I never made plans to be in love.”

  “Why is that funny?”

  “Little girls dream of the prince. Amy’s prince is in the land of Barbie.”

  “Don’t make fun of my baby. She loves that DVD.”

  “Our baby,” he corrected her. “Right, little girl’s dream of the prince… little boy’s dream of slaying the dragon.”

  “Oh brother.”

  He could feel her smile pressed against his chest.

  “Men don’t plan for love.”

  Her head lifted with her smile gone. Daisy’s eyes lit with concern. “Are you serious?”

  Aiden nodded that he was.

  “What man plans to get his heart ripped out?”

  “That’s not what love is, Aiden.”

  “Then why do I feel like that every time I’m with you?”

  She rolled to her stomach, staying close. She stared down at him under long dark lashes. Her eyes were so sexy to him. He could stare in them always. “I’m sorry you feel that way. I don’t feel that way when we’re together, not fighting and you not controlling everything that is.”

  “What do you feel? Tell me.”

  “Nervous, anxious. My stomach gets butterflies. I want to strangle you and kiss you all at once,” Daisy said. “Most of the time I feel confused.”

  Aiden absorbed the confession. For the first time, he heard her say she felt something. He thought she desired him but mostly tolerated him now. To know she felt the same anxiety was like he just scored a touchdown.

  “You’re wrong, Aiden.”

  “About?” he said trying to focus.

  “Love. Men do want to fall in love. And you’re wrong about little boys. Little boys dream of slaying the dragon only because they want to be the hero to rescue the princess.”

  “Is that right?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Then tell me the dragon’s name and which one I have to slay to be in love with you.”

  Daisy smiled. “Your dragon? Easy… his name is Aiden Keane. That beast is here.” She pressed her hand to his chest. “Now your turn. Tell me how far will you really go to be in love.”

  ****

  The Hampton Inn was relatively quiet that evening. It being a Thursday night, he expected a little more activity. Its location was prime and less than a mile from the beach. There were no more than a few cars parked out front. Pete looked up at the rooms and back to the entrance. Taking a deep breath, he removed his cell phone as he began his approach, thumb punching her number.

  He quickly stepped through the automatic doors, checking his watch. A family of three, pulling luggage and a cooler, sidestepped him as he went inside. With his cell phone pressed to his ear, he counted the rings, waiting for her to answer. Then he saw her. She sat in a lobby chair; her head turned, eyes focused on nothing.

  He could always tell when she was deep in thought. Since she quit smoking, she’d bite her nails, though he suspected she smoked some behind his back. He never understood the habit. She was so perfect to him, except for that vice.

  Peter would buy her a case of cigarettes now if she’d play another game of forget and forgive. What was his crime? He could easily say that every action he’s taken has been toward resolution. How could they have a future if he didn’t deal with the past?

  Maybe that’s why she came? Maybe she came to forgive and to support him like she had done countless other times. Maybe? Although deep inside he had his doubts—they hovered. They drove over his heartbeat like a mad drummer in his chest. And to see her now seated, looking fresh and beautiful out of his dream, reminded him of home.

  Pete took a step toward her. His heart now pulsed in his throat that went dry as sandpaper and his tongue thick, preventing him from speaking. She sensed him. Her head turned and those large almond shaped eyes locked directly on him. She wore a pair of blue jeans and a yellow knit long sleeve top. He surveyed all of her.

  “Nina?”

  He walked over to her, his back straight and his stride confident. But his steps fell off less hurried after he looked in her eyes. There was a vacancy in her stare
. It stuck in his craw and began to chip away at his confidence.

  She rose. “Hi, Pete.”

  He didn’t care. He’d missed her. Truly. He went around the lobby furniture, the shelf with pamphlet’s advertising ‘what to do’ while visiting Mango Grove and he reached for her to partake in liberties she probably wouldn’t grant if asked. Capturing her hands, he pulled her close. She didn’t object. In fact, she immediately hugged him back. Pete smiled. He’d been really lonely since he left her. Half empty was more like it. Holding her now, he charged his battery. Naturally a kiss to her cheek led him to seek her mouth, her lips soft and plush as he possessed them. She gave him a small one with a little tongue, a little love, and withdrew.