Daisy
Ilieinbed,staring at the ceiling. I can’t sleep because I’m sad. I miss Grannie and it’s hitting me now—after already being here for a few days. I don’t know what I expected, but I guess I thought if the sadness didn’t come right away, it wouldn’t come at all.
But it no longer feels like she ran to the store or is outside handling the animals. She’s not here at all, and she’s not coming back. My mood could also have come from the fact that I went into Grannie’s room today. I knew I had to do it, and today was the day. It wasn’t just going in there, but going through her closet to pull out the photo albums. I sat for hours looking through all the photos, and well… it’s put me in a bit of a mood. Rightfully so.
My parents have been gone for a long time. I don’t have any siblings. No aunts or uncles. Grannie was an only child, too, and her parents died a long time ago. Before I was born. She never married, and every time I asked her about my mom’s father, she gave me a different story.
“Met him out line dancing. It was just a night.”
“Oh, we had a quick fling. You know, just for a few weeks.”
“He was traveling through town, backpacking like them folks do.”
“Just a mystery man who may have come from outer space.”
Grannie was a silly one.
I close my eyes, trying to think of anything else, so I can go to sleep. That’s when I hear voices. My eyes pop open, and I strain my ears to listen. I can’t make out words, only the cadence of whispers.
I toss the blankets off and get out of bed, trying to listen to find where it’s coming from. My gaze drifts to the open window as the hushed voices float in.
Maybe some kids who don’t know I’ve gotten here? Or maybe it’s Charlie doing some last-minute things andtalking to himself? I make my way to the window to look out of it, but all I see is darkness. The whispers still sound, but they’re too quiet. I can’t make out a single word.
“Hello?” I call out, not too loud but loud enough. The voices stop. “I don’t know who you are, but you better get off my property,” I say.
The doors are locked downstairs. I made sure of it. And someone breaking in isn’t really a fear of mine. It’s not that kind of town, and everyone knows Charlie still lives here. So, kids being here doesn’t make much sense either. Maybe it’s just the animals. I wait another moment, and when I hear nothing, I go back to bed.
The chickens watch me gather their eggs as they normally do, standing in their row with their eyes on me.
This morning, I discover two eggs in the middle nest.
“Aww, who did this?” I ask, holding up both the eggs “Which one of you beauties gave me an extra egg?”
The golden one coos softly, its feathers fluffing up in a cute way. The reddish one makes a noise that has the golden one flinching.
“Well, that wasn’t very nice,” I say, scolding the red chicken. “You’re being rude.”
He stares me down as I walk out of the pen, prepared to make a run for it if he attacks.
The horses and cows get fed, then I spend the rest of the morning and afternoon cleaning the inside of the house. It’s time to start doing that. It’s why I’m here in the first place. I have plenty of time to do it, but what’s the point in waiting? I go through the downstairs area, piling all the things I want to keep into boxes. It’s not much, just a few things that I like and could use in my own apartment. Kitchen gadgets. Funny paintings. Of course, all the family photos will be coming with me, along with the scratchy blanket Grannie crocheted.
I consider lunch when I’m done because my stomach is growling.
I don’t use as many eggs as Grannie did because I don’t bake every day like she did. Honestly, I don’t even knowhow to bake. She told me I took after my mother—she wasn’t good in the kitchen. Grannie was sure it skipped a generation, glazing right over her daughter and going straight to me, but nope. Baking is not for me.
I gather a half dozen eggs into the basket and hurry out the back door so I can bring them to Charlie, which is when I notice the coop door is closed. I forgot to open it to let them back in for the night, which is a big mistake. Foxes will get to them otherwise, then there go my chickens.
I put the basket down, step into the pen, and hurry over to the door. My foot slips, sliding forward, and then both feet are in the air and I’m flying. I brace for impact, knowing it’s going to hurt like hell, only it doesn’t come. I open my eyes and look around, locking eyes with a man who’s holding me bridal style. A man with bright blue eyes, blond hair, and sun-kissed skin. My lips part as I stare at him.
“Please don’t scream,” he says in a smooth voice, smiling shyly at me. I can’t find my voice to scream if I needed to. “Hi,” he then says sweetly. “I’m Gus.”
He sets me on my feet, but I can’tlook away.
“Damnit, Gus, I told you not to do this.”
Another man grabs onto Gus, yanking him back. This man looks angry. His hair is dark brown with a red tinge to it, his eyes golden like honey.
“I couldn’t help it,” Gus says, still staring at me like he can’t look away either.
