Three quarters of the way through the store, Daisy discovers a vase. "I have to own this," she says, picking it up.
The woman appears once more, and at this point I'm fairly certain she's an apparition.
"Let me take that for you," she says in a forceful tone, reaching for the vase.
"I'd really like to look at it a little more, please," Daisy says, nice because she wouldn't be anything else.
The woman stops, hands retracting, but she gives us both a dirty look. "I'll be at the register when you're ready to pay for it." She stomps away. Again.
"She's going to have knee problems later in life if she keeps stomping everywhere."
"Peter," Daisy admonishes.
I look at her lips and the way they formed the name I've adopted that does not belong to me, and decide I'm ready to erase it from her vocabulary. I want to watch those pretty lips form my real name, and I want her to mean it for me.
Think of all the ways I could make her say my name.
Fuck fuck fuckity fuck. I will not go there.Thou shalt not lust after another man's fiancée, even if you hate said man.
Commandment number one, for me and by me. I don't have any other Commandments yet, but that seems like a good one to start with, given the circumstance.
"I'm going to buy it," Daisy says, rotating the vase as she completes a leisurely perusal.
"Cool," I respond, taking a step to follow her to the register. But then something unforeseen happens. The rug under Daisy's foot bunches, creating a lip that catches the toe of her shoe. Daisy wobbles, the vase sways, and the rug slides. Daisy's arms shoot out to steady herself, losing grip on the vase. It hits the ground, a harsh shattering sound filling the air. I rush forward,catching Daisy before she can suffer the same fate as the vase. She wraps her arms around my neck, pressing her face to my chest, body rigid, as if bracing for impact.
"Oh," she breathes, in this shocked but somehow tender voice. She's in my arms, and I'm bent on one knee to keep her upright. Brown eyes blink up at me as she peels off me, rosebud mouth in the perfect surprised 'o', a blush spreading over her cheeks. Everything I've been missing for years comes crashing down on me. This is how I always should have been holding Daisy. She never should have had the chance to be someone else's girl. Anybody else's wife.
If a heart can break, can it also cry?
A few seconds pass as she recalibrates, then her arms untangle from around my neck.
"Thank you," she says, breathless. "I don't know what happened."
"You dropped the vase," the owner says, sneering at Daisy.
I've already given this woman more leeway than I would normally give a person acting this rude, simply because she's a lady, but I'm done. She's fucking with Daisy, and that's unacceptable.
"What happened"—I kick at the bunched up rug—"Is that you chose this rugall by yourselfbut you didn't think to put something under it to make it non-slip."
She gapes at me. A sticker on a large broken piece of the vase declares the cost, so I pull out my wallet and count out what's necessary to cover it, plus a rough calculation of tax.
"Here," I say, striding over and tossing the money on the counter. "Just to let you know, my friend picked the only pretty thing in this whole store." I hold out a hand for Daisy, and she takes it. "You should be more careful how you treat customers." A gentle tug and Daisy and I are backtracking through the store, clearing the front door and making our way to my truck. SlimJim's face is at the window, nose pressed to the glass as he watches us.
Daisy waits until we're both in the truck before she turns to me, but she's beaming, the kind of smile where rays of sun might actually be streaming from her lips.
"I don't know if anybody has ever stood up for me like that." She shakes her head, astonished. "Only this one time in 5thgrade, when Matty French snapped my bra strap and..."
She doesn't have to say it. I remember it like it was yesterday. The way that little asshole snuck up behind Daisy, tugging on her bra strap in front of everyone at lunch, just because he wanted them to know she had started wearing a bra. Daisy, red-faced and on the verge of tears, got up from her seat prepared to run from the lunchroom. I knew she would never stand up for herself, she had a lot more to lose in terms of privileges at home and disappointing her parents. But me? I had nothing to lose. I walked straight up to that smug little shit, reared back, and punched him in the nose. Blood flowed like a fountain, and I got a one week suspension.Anything for youI mouthed at Daisy as the teacher on lunch duty pushed me from the lunchroom with his hand on my neck.
"Can you believe he did that?" Daisy smiles fondly at the memory. "Penn wouldn't stand for anybody mistreating me."
And I still won't.
"Doesn't surprise me," I say, clearing my throat into the shoulder of my shirt.
Daisy exhales audibly. "What a bitch," she says, looking at me to gauge my reaction.
"You can call her whatever you want to call her. It's just me and you in this truck, Sunshine. No upkeep of images here."
