Even though he was aware of what was going on, Linc didn’t realize the extent to which his house and his wife had become part of the fabric of Prescott, until a phone call sent him home unexpectedly one Tuesday in late November.
He met Chickie coming out the door.
“Hello, darling.” She hugged him and then stepped aside so he could get through the front door. “Daisy’s with Lacey upstairs painting the bathroom.”
Linc knew there was something different about Chickie, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. He watched her walk out to the sidewalk and realized she wasn’t swaying. She wasn’t drunk. It was the first time he’d seen her completely sober.
He shook his head and went inside.
Two of his students, Olivia and Larry, were working over their notes on World War II at the dining room table while Liz sprawled across Olivia’s lap and Annie batted at Larry’s pen. He started to tell Annie to get off the table, but Andrew, another student, came out of the kitchen with a bowl.
“Decide now. Nuts in the chocolate chips or not?”
“Nuts,” said a voice from the living room, and he turned to see Tracy, yet another student, lying on the couch with Jupiter on his back on top of her. She was scratching his stomach slowly, and Jupiter looked as if he were in ecstasy.
“You’ll probably break a tooth.” Evan came out of the kitchen behind Andrew, holding an apple. “Shell pieces. There’s always a risk.”
There were too many people in his house. Linc looked around a little frantically. “Is Daisy here?”
“Upstairs with Lacey in the bathroom.” Olivia waved her hand toward the stairs. “They’re finishing the ivy today. It looks super.”
“She’s going to do the kitchen in trompe l’oeil.” Tracy sat up. “She said she’d teach me.”
“Have you seen her last painting?” Evan asked him. “It’s Sanger. Daisy’s really got something. Of course, it will never be recognized. I tried to get her a gallery show, but Bill’s booked through next year.” He bit into the apple. “Probably covered with chemicals.” He wandered out the front door.
Linc watched him go before he turned back to Tracy. “There are a lot of people here. Is it always like this?”
“Pretty much.” Tracy lay back down, much to Jupiter’s delight. “That’s why we call it the Hive.”
“The Hive?”
“Little yellow house, always busy. The Hive.”
“Nothing about Killer Bees?” Linc asked suspiciously.
“No.” Larry looked up from his notes. “Are there any?”
“No.” Linc went upstairs to find Daisy.
“You’re much better at this than I am,” Daisy was saying to Lacey when he reached the bathroom.
“I like this.” Lacey gazed at the wall with satisfaction. “Teach me to paint something else.”
“Like what?” Daisy put her brush to soak. “We’re almost finished in here.”
“Roses, daffodils, tulips, irises …”
“Not in here,” Linc said from the doorway. “Have a heart. I brush my teeth in here. I have hangovers in here.”
“Well, hi.” Daisy smiled up at him, and for some reason he forgot to breathe. It wasn’t stress this time; he never felt stressed when he looked at Daisy now.
She stood up and walked toward him and he held out his hand to her. She took it and stood close and said, “What brings you home?”
Then he remembered and his stress levels rose again. “My mother called.”
“Oh, dear,” Daisy said.
“Don’t mind me,” Lacey said. “You go talk. I’ll stay here and finish the painting.”
EIGHT
THEY WENT INTO Daisy’s bedroom and sat on the bed, and Linc thought for a moment about how great it would be if they were alone and he could just have his arms around her. It would be such a comfort, such a distraction from all his problems.
“There are a lot of people here,” Linc said. “How can you stand this?”
Daisy blinked at him, surprised. “Stand what? They let me alone. If I go in the studio, nobody bothers me. They answer the phone and take messages and since they’ve been here, Crawford doesn’t stop by in the afternoons.”
Linc’s grip on her hand tightened. “What?”
“He used to come by and ring the doorbell, and I’d just stay inside and wait until he went away. When the kids started coming over, he gave up.”
He scowled down at her. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Daisy shrugged. “What could you have done?”
“What I should have done the first day: told him I’d break his fingers if he ever touched you.”
Daisy laughed, a soft little chuckle. “Did you ever actually break anyone’s fingers?”
Linc’s annoyance faded with her chuckle. “No, but as your brother from New Jersey, I figure Crawford’s the place to start.”
“You’re not my brother.”
His eyes met hers and he felt a flash of heat that rocked his complacency.
Daisy swallowed and said, “What did your mother want?”
“Oh, Lord.” He put his head in his hand. “I forgot. She’s coming to stay. She’ll be at Wil’s for Christmas, so she’s coming to stay with us for the first week in December. That’s next week.”
“Oh.” Daisy smiled brightly. “That will be nice. Get a room at the inn.”
Linc patted her hand, knowing she was going to hate the next part. “There are none. I tried. It’s Winterfest on campus. And I think she wants to stay here anyway. She knows we have a spare bedroom.”
“No, we don’t,” Daisy said, puzzled.
“My mother, like everyone else we know, thinks we sleep together.”
“Oh.”
“It’s just for a week,” Linc said lamely, knowing that a week with his mother would be hell.
Daisy nodded, her head a little wobbly on her neck. “We’ll be fine. Really. We will. She can have this bed, and I’ll sleep in your room. No big deal. And she’ll get along great with Evan; he never smiles either. By the way, Evan is coming here for Christmas Eve.”
Linc’s visions of Christmas as just another great dinner with Daisy disappeared. “Why?”
“Because he’s not going home, and because Julia will be here.” Daisy grinned. “Which is why he’s not going home. And I asked Art too, and Evan introduced me to Bill from the gallery and he’s nice and alone, and things were getting so big that I asked the Crawfords and the Bookers too. It will be cozy. Pansy will be in the Bahamas, but maybe your mother will stay.”
Oh, yes, his mother introduced into that group was all they’d need to make the holidays perfect. “Maybe she won’t.”
He sounded so gloomy that Daisy peered up at him, trying to read the expression on his face. “Are you unhappy about this?”
“No.” Linc straightened up. “It’s just not what I had planned.”
“I know.” Daisy recognized that he wasn’t talking about his mother. “I was supposed to lay low and stay away from people. But that’s hard for me.”
“I know.” He put his arm around her and pulled her close in a semi-hug, and it felt so good, she closed her eyes. “It was a dumb plan,” he went on. “We’ve been married for almost three months. Is there anyone in town who doesn’t know you by your first name?”
Daisy nodded again, eager to reassure him. “Lots. I spend most of my time here, painting. I’ve gotten so much done, Linc. Really good work, because I haven’t worried about money or anything. This is all because of you.” She kissed him on the cheek. “This is great.”
He froze for a moment and then tightened his arm around her. “My book’s done.”
“What? You’re kidding!”
“Nope.” He grinned like a little kid. “I have to edit it and smooth things out a little, but essentially, it’s done. And that’s not all. I’ve got a publisher.”
Daisy shrieked and hugged him, and he laughed.
“A publisher.” Daisy glowed at him. “Imagine. Just
like that.”
“Just like that, hell.” Linc tried to frown at her but she could see the delight still bubbling underneath. “I submitted the damn thing eight places in the past year before I got anyone to look at it.”
Daisy was incredulous. Linc was one of the most brilliant people she’d ever known, not to mention a great writer with a great subject. “Eight places turned you down?”
Linc laughed and pulled her to him again. “You know, you’re good for my ego, kid. Stick around.”
She was distracted by the hug, but the enormity of what he’d said came back. “But wasn’t it awful? Eight times?”
“Well, it wasn’t fun. But that’s the way it goes.”
He’d kept going after eight rejections. She’d given up after one, after Bill, who’d become a friend, told her that he already had his shows booked. She hadn’t even checked with other galleries in other cities. “You know, I’m learning a lot from you,” she told him.
“This has worked out great for both of us.” Linc rubbed his thumb along her cheek affectionately. “This is one terrific deal.”
I can think of some things that would make it more terrific, she thought, but all she said was “And we’ve got six months left to go before the deal’s over. Think of all the things we can get done. You can write another book.”
He’d dropped his arm from her shoulders. “Let me get this one done first.” He stood up. “Mother will be driving down next week. Do you need me to do anything?”
“No.” Daisy felt cold as he moved away. It had been nice with his arm around her. “Just be home for dinner and the evenings; I’ll fake the days. Maybe she naps.”
“I doubt it. I don’t think she sleeps.”
Linc’s mother drove in the next week, and Daisy went out to the car to help her with her bag. “How was your drive?” She moved to take Gertrude’s suitcase. “You must be exhausted.”
Gertrude gave up her suitcase without a fight. “Yes.”
Daisy looked at her closely. She was even paler than usual. “Hot tea.” Daisy put her arm around Gertrude and led her into the house. “And a nap. We’ll have dinner at home tonight, just the three of us. You can relax.”
Gertrude nodded and followed Daisy up the stairs to Daisy’s bedroom. Daisy turned back the counterpane and left her to go make tea.
When Daisy came back, Gertrude was in bed looking shockingly frail. Gertrude had been such an overwhelming presence that she’d seemed massive. Now she looked translucent and brittle, like very old, very thin china.
“Let me put some pillows behind you.” Daisy supported her firmly with her arm while she stacked the pillows behind the older woman. “I’ve brought you tea and some cookies that one of Linc’s students baked.”
“Thank you.” Gertrude’s voice was faint, and Daisy was really alarmed. She ran downstairs and called the doctor who lived across the street.
“This is Daisy Blaise. It’s my mother-in-law. She’s really ill and I don’t think she can make it across the street. It’s either you or the rescue squad.”
“I’ll come,” Dr. Banks said. “The rescue squad makes too much noise.”
Half an hour later he came downstairs. “Flu.”
Daisy felt her own stomach heave at the thought. “Flu?”
“She’ll be sick for about a week. This is that nasty strain they’ve got up north. And we want to keep it up north. This place is in quarantine.”
Quarantine. With Gertrude. And Linc. Oh, Lord. “Can Linc go to work?”
“Only if he promises not to breathe on the students. You keep the students out, understand?”
Daisy nodded. The last thing she needed was a lot of people while she coped with Gertrude, a woman she was fairly certain saw illness as something only weaker people encountered. “I understand. What about Gertrude? What do I do?”
“Keep her warm and give her plenty of liquids. She should be through this by Friday.”
“Great.” Daisy sighed. “Thank you. I know you don’t make house calls, so I really appreciate this.”
“Across the street isn’t a house call.” He looked around at Daisy’s painted walls. “Besides, it’s a nice house.”
I’m going to miss living here, she thought as she watched him cross the street. Such nice people. Such a nice town. Such a nice house.
She lettered a sign that said Flu Quarantine and taped it to the front door and then went to make vegetable soup. Vegetable soup had a lot of liquid in it.
“Is that a joke?” Linc gestured to the sign as he came through the front door, and Daisy flapped her hand at him to shush him.
“Shhh. Your mother’s upstairs, and she’s really sick. You can go up and sit with her after dinner.”
“Do I have to?” Linc asked appalled.
“Yes.” Daisy restrained herself from saying something exasperated. “You have to.”
After dinner that night, Linc reluctantly climbed the stairs.
“Read her this.” Daisy shoved a book into his hands as he went up, and he carried it with him when he went in to see his mother.
He was as shocked as Daisy had been at the change in her. She looked old and fragile, not the Iron Mother he’d grown up with. “Hello,” he said softly. “Daisy sent me up to read to you. Would you like that or would you rather just sleep?”
“I would like a little reading.” She tried to focus on him. “I have been sleeping all day. And the dinner was very good. Real homemade soup.” She sighed a little. “Daisy is a good woman.”
“Yes, she is.” It was unlike his mother to be so mellow, and it made Linc nervous. “Let’s see what she’s given us to read.” Linc opened the book and then laughed.
“What is it?”
“‘There was a man in the land of Uz, whose name was Job; and that man was blameless and upright,’” Linc began. He looked over at his mother, who was blameless and upright, and she smiled weakly and he smiled back, and for one moment he felt united with her in affection for Daisy.
“This is good.” His mother relaxed into her pillow. “I feel better. The boils I have not got yet.”
“‘He feared God and turned away from evil,’” Linc read on, and his mother closed her eyes, and when he glanced over as he read, she was smiling slightly, and she looked comforted. God bless Daisy, he thought, and read on.
Later that evening, after Daisy had checked on Gertrude and given her aspirin for her fever, she went into Linc’s bedroom and climbed into bed with him. He was still reading the Bible.
“Job.” He shook his head. “I would never have thought of it, but she liked it.” He looked over at her, smiling. “She really liked it.”
“I love it.”
He watched as Daisy wriggled down in the bed to get comfortable. His mattress was harder than hers, and it took her a while to get situated, and he couldn’t take his eyes off her as she punched pillows and tried to find a softer place for her hip. Finally she was where she wanted to be, and she went on.
“Job’s wonderful, although not the arguing bits. The good stuff’s the part where God rips a strip off Job for whining. Here.” She took the book from him and flipped forward a few pages. “Chapter Thirty-eight. ‘Where were you when I laid the foundation of the earth? Tell me if you have understanding. Who determined its measurements—surely you know!’ I love that bit, God getting sarcastic. ‘Or who stretched the line upon it? On what were its bases sunk, or who laid its cornerstone, when the morning stars sang together, and all the sons of God shouted for joy.’”
Daisy put the book down on her lap and stared into space, a delighted smile on her face. “Except I see the daughters of God shouting too. All the people together, shouting for joy, and the morning stars singing.” She closed the book and leaned back on her pillows. “Our church was gray stone on the inside and it was so beautiful. The sun would come through the stained glass windows and warm the wooden pews, and our minister would read this stuff and I’d feel so safe.” She turned and looked into his eyes. “I nev
er felt that safe again until I moved in with you. Thank you.”
Linc was speechless. The combined effects of his mother, frail and ill and needing him, and Daisy, warm and healthy and trusting him, left him dizzy. Stay with me, he wanted to say. Be my wife. Then the room started to spin around and he realized he wasn’t breathing. He drew in a deep breath and took the book from her. “I like keeping you safe. What’s your favorite book?”
“Ecclesiastes. Song of Songs. Esther. Ruth.” She snuggled down into her pillow. “Different things for different moods.” She yawned. “If you hear me get up later, I’m just checking on your mom. Don’t worry.”
She closed her eyes, and he looked down at her pale face framed by the splash of dark curls on her pillow. She was so sweet and warm, and he loved her so much.
The thought startled him. I love her like a sister, he told himself. Except that I want her too. Evil thoughts for a man with a Bible on his lap.
He flipped through the pages until he chanced into the middle of Song of Songs and read, “I come to my garden, my sister, my bride,” and thought, everything really is in the Bible. Then he went back to the beginning and read, “Oh that you would kiss me with the kisses of your mouth! For your love is better than wine.”
That’s it, he thought, and put the book on his bedside table. Enough Bible. Then he turned out the light and fell asleep, thinking about Daisy, only inches away from him.
The next night his mother was worse, and he read only a little more of Job before he closed the book and said, “You’re tired. I’ll read more tomorrow.”
“You have your father’s voice.” Gertrude rolled her head on her pillow so she could see him in the lamplight. “I close my eyes and I can see him when you read. You look so much like him.”
Linc sat frozen. His mother had never talked like this before. It’s the fever, he told himself.
“I loved him so much.” Her voice was weak, barely a thread. “It was God’s miracle that he loved me. So big and strong, just like you. And then I lost him.” A tear rolled down her cheek. “I tell myself it is part of God’s plan, but I have been so lonely. Eighteen years.”
The Cinderella Deal Page 13