by Kallysten
“Yeah.”
It had been a long time since Brad had seen his son smile like this. It was really nice. He smiled back and said, “We’ll talk in the morning. Good night.”
“’Night Dad.”
Brad could feel his son’s eyes on him as he left the kitchen. He was half tempted to turn back and tell him everything would be all right, but he had promised that very thing before, and they had proved to be empty words. They were past the point of words. Now it would be time for action.
He returned to his bedroom, and was relieved to find that Melissa was still asleep.
For a long moment, he leaned back against the closed door and watched her. She was curled on the right side of the bed, one hand under her pillow. Under his pillow. The right side had always been his until now. Yet now, somehow, changing sides didn’t seem all that important. What mattered was that it was Melissa he saw lying there. The image of Joan was gone, her lingering memory fading in front of the present. He would always love his wife, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t let himself love someone else. She herself had known that, long before he had and that realization was a soothing balm over Brad’s still damaged heart.
Finally pushing away from the door, he slipped into bed behind Melissa and wrapped his arm around her. She made a small, contented noise and edged back toward him. Brad closed his eyes and went to sleep.
It seemed like only seconds passed, but when his eyes blinked open again the room was bathed in the diffuse morning light that the drapes on the windows had never fully stopped.
He realized at once what had awakened him: Melissa was trying to slide from under his arm. He tightened it briefly, holding her close and murmured a sleepy, “Good morning.”
Melissa stilled and turned toward him, an apologetic smile on her lips. “Good morning. And sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep. I’ll just be very quiet—”
“It’s okay,” Brad interrupted her gently. He stroked her cheek with his thumb and watched her expression flicker between relief and confusion.
“Is it? Really?”
He leaned closer to brush his lips against hers. “Yeah. It is. And everything else is going to be okay, too. Better than okay. Starting with breakfast. What would you like? The kids say I make great pancakes.”
* * * *
Daisy had followed Joan back to the dining room but she felt strangely detached listening to her friends talk. Watching the ice in the buckets melt around the champagne bottles was a reminder of how much time had passed already. The New Year was almost there; the soiree almost over.
Now considering her friends, she tried to remember how much each of them had drunk. In the first lull in the conversation, she asked, “Will you guys be okay to drive? I’ve got two free bedrooms plus the sofa bed if you’ve had too much to drink.”
“I only had a glass of wine earlier tonight,” Rachel said. “I’m driving Cathleen, Joan and Brad.”
Both Cathleen and Joan nodded at this; it had obviously been pre-arranged. Daisy turned her attention to Mike and Brett; she was fairly certain they had both had more than one drink.
“What about you two?”
“Mike was supposed to drive,” Brett said with a slight grin, “but we’ll be calling a cab.”
Mike snorted and poked at Brett’s shoulder with two fingers. “You’re the one who keeps refilling my glass. If I didn’t know any better, I’d wonder what you want to do to me when I’m drunk.”
Predictably, Brett sighed, a deep, exaggerated sigh, and the rest of them laughed. But Daisy was fairly certain Brett wasn’t trying to get Mike drunk. Brett may have forgotten his vision already but he still looked unsettled. Having someone to drink with seemed to comfort him.
“What about Sam?” Cathleen asked. “You brought him a few glasses. You think he’ll be safe to drive?”
Daisy frowned, trying to remember how many glasses she had taken to the balcony. At least two—or was it three?
“He can share our cab,” Brett suggested.
“Or maybe Daisy will offer him the guest room,” Mike said, a sly grin on his lips. “That way she can get her vision when we’re all gone.”
She rolled her eyes at him. “Just for that,” she said on a chastising tone, “you’re not getting any cake.”
Mike pouted fetchingly as though trying to sway her. “Now you’re just being mean.”
“And you were being obnoxious,” she shot back. Her sternness melted away into a sheepish shrug. “Well, that, and I gave the cake to Alicia.”
They all burst out laughing.
“Where did she take it?” Cathleen asked, but her expression hinted that she had guessed the answer already.
“The hospital,” Daisy said. “Ben is working tonight.”
Knowing looks were exchanged all around. Ben’s and Alicia’s mutual crushes had long since been obvious to everyone who knew them—except to each other.
“How about ice cream for dessert?” Daisy suggested as she stood. Enthusiastic nods answered her and she made her way back to the kitchen.
She had only brought a large ice cream carton as a back up plan if people were still hungry after the cake, but since three of her guests had barely touched the hors d’oeuvres before they had left, she figured that a scoop or two of ice cream would be sufficient for the others.
She was reaching up to the top of the cupboard to grab bowls when Mike rested a hand on her shoulder.
“Here, let me,” he said, and easily picked up the pile of glass bowls from the high shelf when she stepped out of the way. He handed them to her and said, contrite, “You know I was just teasing, right?”
Daisy’s lips curled into a half-smile automatically. “Yeah, I know. Sorry, the more tired I am, the shorter my temper.”
But that wasn’t really why she had been annoyed and she knew it quite well. What bothered her was that Woods, her sister and her friends were all pushing her toward seeing this vision which she had told them and herself repeatedly she did not want; yet she knew that, deep down, she was beginning to waver. Every new suggestion that she ought to try simultaneously raised her hackles and made her want to give in just so they would all stop.
Mike continued to watch her as she pulled the ice cream from the freezer and found the scoop. “You don’t look that tired,” he finally said.
It wasn’t a question, and she could have let it go, but she knew it was his way of asking if anything else was bothering her.
“It’s just…” She twisted the scoop into the ice cream, coming up with a perfect ball that she deposited in the first bowl. “Woods keeps asking me if I’ll do it. I told him no but I think he believes I’ll change my mind if he asks often enough.”
Another half scoop went into the first bowl and she switched to the second one.
“Do you want me to tell him to just take ‘no’ as your answer?” Mike asked, sounding mildly concerned.
Daisy laughed. “You’re sweet, but it’s okay. He was teasing me but I gave back as good as I got.”
Mike’s eyes sparkled with mirth. “Don’t ask me how I know, but I’m sure you did.”
Grinning, she finished scooping out the ice cream, found the bottle of chocolate syrup and drizzled some in each bowl. As she finished, she realized Mike was now observing her with a slight frown on his brow. She raised an eyebrow at him, silently asking what was on his mind.
“Why don’t you want to do it?” he asked quietly.
Her previous annoyance flared back to life but before she could give it voice, Mike raised an appeasing hand.
“I’m not saying you should. I just…” He glanced toward the dining room for a second. The conversation there was loud enough that they would not be overheard, but he lowered his voice anyway. “Out of all of us, if anyone has been having even less luck than me in the dating department, it’s you. Don’t you want to find s
omeone?”
Daisy turned away to grab spoons from the cutlery drawer, thinking about how to answer him. When she looked back up, Mike’s expression was apologetic.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have asked. This really isn’t any of my business.”
Brushing her hand against his arm, Daisy smiled. “No, it’s okay. You can ask. And I do want to be in a relationship, but it will happen when it’s supposed to. Not because I kissed some random guy who happened to be a seer.”
Mike nodded slowly. “I guess I see what you mean. But… do you understand why we did it?”
“I do,” Daisy said very quickly. “I get it, really.” And she did. She understood why, for most people, a glimpse of their future and the assurance that everything would end up for the best was an opportunity too good to pass. She simply wasn’t like most people. “It’s just not for me.”
The two of them managed to bring all the ice cream bowls to the dining room. Daisy set two on the table, one for Brad and the other for Woods after they were finished with the reading. Although midnight was only fifteen minutes away now, she realized, so they’d probably end up eating dessert on the balcony, watching the fireworks.
The ice cream was good, or so Daisy’s friends said, but after only a couple of spoonfuls she put down her own bowl and slipped out of the room, returning to the living room from which she would be able to see the balcony. She reached the window at the same as Brad opened his eyes.
It only took her a second to realize that he was crying.
Brad was crying. Brad. The level-headed one of their group, the one who always stayed calm no matter what, comforting and soothing his friends when they were upset.
Shocked, Daisy opened the window and stepped out before she knew what she was doing. “Brad? Are you okay?”
He blinked teary eyes up at her. He looked completely lost. “Close the window please,” he croaked. “I don’t want Joan to…”
She glanced toward the dining room as she closed the window behind herself. Joan hadn’t noticed anything. Brad had a few moments to collect himself.
When she turned back to them, Brad was accepting a napkin from Woods. He dried his cheeks before scrunching it in his fist.
“Do you want to tell me…” Daisy started but stopped when Brad shook his head.
He turned toward the ocean for a few seconds, his body heaving with emotional breaths. When he looked at Woods again, he seemed calmer, his voice steadier.
“Can I change it? Can I save her?”
Daisy’s heart jumped then tightened painfully. Save whom, she wanted to ask, even while knowing that he had to be talking about Joan.
“No,” Woods said quietly. “I’m sorry. You won’t be able to change it.”
The pain engraved on Brad’s face was heartbreaking. When he pleaded with Woods again, he sounded like a child. “But I could… I could help her. Save her.”
“Do you even remember what happened to her?” Woods’ words were so cool, so devoid of feeling that Daisy couldn’t help but stare at him in shock. Couldn’t he show more compassion?
“Yes, she…” Brad raked the fingers of both his hands furiously through his hair, as though to find the information he needed. “I don’t remember!” he muttered furiously. “But I could still help her, I know I could—”
“Brad,” Woods cut in. “I’ve had people in your position before. They tried to change things. Even when they do remember, they forget too fast and it never works. All you’ll do is make both of you miserable until it happens. And it will happen, no matter what you do.”
Daisy was growing more and more frustrated with how insensitive Woods was proving himself to be. Placing a hand on Brad’s shoulder, she glared at Woods.
“Are you going to start spouting nonsense about fate now?” she spat at him. “Say everything is preordained and we can’t change anything?”
“No. That’s not—”
Woods cut himself mid-sentence and took a deep breath. When he started again, his voice had lost the annoyance but his eyes were still burning.
“I believe we have choices. Those moments I show people, they could have turned out differently. Once they know what the best outcome is, they don’t have a reason to make a different choice. But this…” His gaze turned to Brad, now pleading. “Even if you knew exactly what happened, how likely is it that your direct actions and choices were at play? For every event in our lives, there’s a tipping point, sure. But before that there are dozens, hundreds of choices, made by us, the people around us, even perfect strangers. What I’m saying is, changing one single outcome would require knowing every detail that contributed to it to figure out where a change will work. And no one can know that much. I certainly don’t. And neither do you.”
Anger still burned bright inside Daisy—anger that her friend was in danger, that Woods was taking this all in stride, that she had no way to help, that she had never even had an inkling this might be coming. But before she could find another argument, a reason to convince Woods that they ought to at least try, Brad asked in a small voice, “So… what should I do now? Am I supposed to just keep living like I don’t know she’s going to…”
He gulped noisily and didn’t finish.
“My advice,” Woods said, “is to think about it. Try to write it down. Talk to me about it if you want.”
Confusion flashed across Brad’s features. “But if I do, won’t I forget?”
Woods nodded. “You will. And you’ll be happier for it.”
Daisy wanted to explode. This was ridiculous. What was the point of doing this vision thing if Woods ended up advising his ‘clients’ to forget about it all? Behind her, the latch of the French window had clicked open and she contained herself. She squeezed Brad’s shoulder one last time before letting go and stepping back so that Joan could approach.
Beaming, Joan only had eyes for Brad. “Did you see them?” she asked, simple joy filling her words. “Aren’t they gorgeous?”
“I just saw the oldest,” Brad said, his voice cracking a little. “He’s a great kid.” Frowning slightly, he seemed to consider his own words and added, “Or I guess I should say he will be.”
His laugh was strained, weak, but Joan didn’t seem to notice. Still grinning, she hugged him, and Daisy saw how tightly Brad clung to Joan as he pressed his face to the crook of her shoulder.
“It’s all so weird, isn’t it?” Joan babbled, trills of happiness filling her voice.
“It is.” Brad all but choked on his words, but Joan still didn’t notice.
“But it’s so nice to know how it’ll turn out,” she continued, now nestling her head against his shoulder. “I mean, we don’t know how we get to that point but it’s like knowing there really is a pot of gold at the foot of the rainbow.”
Brad’s eyes were tightly closed, yet tears still pierced through, glittering on his eyelashes. A large rock seemed to have taken up residence in Daisy’s throat. Unable to bear looking at his anguish, at how oblivious Joan was, she returned her gaze to Woods and saw with some surprise how sad he looked.
After a few more seconds, Joan seemed to finally realize something was awry. She pulled away to look up at Brad’s face and her beaming smile wavered when she saw the tears.
“Hey,” she murmured, brushing her fingertips against his cheeks. “What—”
“It happens sometimes,” Woods interrupted gently. “When the vision is very strong. Emotions just flood in.”
Joan glanced at him, nodding once as though she understood. She hugged Brad again and this time the gesture had a different tenor, almost protective. Daisy turned her attention to Woods again, feeling thoroughly confused. Just moments ago, he had been close to callous when he had tried to calm Brad, but now that mask was crumbling. Joan and Brad left the balcony at Brad’s slightly wavering request for a drink, and Woods let out a shaky brea
th. He sat down and tilted his head back. He looked exhausted.
“Are you all right?” Daisy asked warily.
He sighed and closed his eyes. “Yeah. It’s just…” As he interrupted himself, he opened his eyes again and looked at her for a few seconds. “Sorry,” he muttered. “I can’t talk about it.”
Standing in front of him with her arms crossed over her chest, Daisy glared down at him. “You can’t tell me my friend is going to die, you mean.” Her voice wasn’t half as cold as she felt inside.
Woods’ expression was grim. “You already know. And how does that help you? How does that help her?”
“If you just tell me how—”
“But I don’t know how!” Woods snapped. His eyes were blazing suddenly. He was clearly as upset as she was. “I told you before. I see it like a movie. If someone doesn’t say something aloud or if something doesn’t happen where I can see it I have no idea what goes on.”
Daisy calmed down but she still couldn’t let it go. “But Brad,” she insisted. “I mean, why doesn’t he know how it happened?”
“Maybe he wasn’t thinking about it,” Woods said more coolly. “Or maybe he was stopping himself from thinking about it. Maybe he thought about it so much he forgot right away. I don’t know. I wasn’t in his head.”
Woods’ frustration vanquished the last of Daisy’s anger. This had happened to him before, she understood abruptly. Woods had seen other visions in which someone had lost the person they loved. He had had to comfort other people as they grieved for something that hadn’t come to pass yet. If there had been anything he could do, anything at all, he would have figured it out by now. Which meant that they couldn’t do anything.
That same grief she had seen in Brad’s eyes and heard in his voice was now sliding over Daisy like a cold, wet blanket. She shivered and rubbed her arms, looking unseeingly toward the ocean.
“I always thought they were perfect for each other.”
No, she hadn’t just thought so, she had been sure of it, the knowledge anchored deep inside ever since she had first met them. Before they had even started going out together in high school, she had known they were meant to be together.