“Oh! Right, yeah. I guess I hadn’t thought of it that way.”
“Stop me if this is TMI, but is Bennett, like”—she holds her hands up, creating different circumference sizes with her fingers.
“Um, it’s not like a two-hand situation or anything, but yeah, he’s… average, I guess.” Except I have no fucking clue. The closest I have to a clue is the time his boner was poking into my ass after our first night here and then only vague memories of a boner when we—oh shit, I made him take a shower with me. I knew that happened, but this is the first time since waking up from my fugue state that I’ve actually let myself consider what a bad idea that was. No wonder he looked like he’d just made a horrible mistake earlier this morning.
“Okay, good to know. I just didn’t know what to expect and anyway… Things are going great. And then I tell him, maybe this whole part could be a warm-up for the main event—you know, sex. And that I’ve never done that before.”
“Right, right. That seems… normal. And he said no?”
“No! He saidbe my girlfriend. And I laughed. Well, it was more like a flirtatious giggle. And then he literally removed my hand and told me that he couldn’t let me have sex for the first time if it wasn’t with someone I cared about. He wanted it to bespecial.” She says the word like she’s allergic to it. “I don’t need it to be special. I just need it to be over!
“I guess I could have just said I would be his girlfriend and then broken up with him, but that felt wrong, so I just said we didn’t want the same things and to call me if he changed his mind. Then—this might be the worst part. He patted me on the head,like I’m his little cousin or something, and said he knew I was a nice girl.”
“Oof! A real knife to the gut.”
“I know! Anyway, now I have to start all over again. You’d think it wouldn’t be this hard to just find a college guy to screw.”
One of my washing machines beeps, and I scoot off the dryer to change it out. “Well, Daisy, I don’t know you very well, but there is something… respectable about you. So maybe guys are picking up on that vibe.”
Her lips turn into a devastating frown. “I know. I’m such an effing lady. Anyway, Briar told me that your darling hubby was in an absolute tizzy when you were sick. She heard him pacing up and down the hallway on a call with a doctor and said that he basically had an entire pharmacy delivered. That boy loves you something fierce.”
“I’m pretty lucky,” I say, but my voice is flat.
“Trouble in paradise?” She perks up a little and I can’t blame her, because misery truly does love company.
“Oh, um…” God, I wish I had someone to talk to about this, but I’m also not sure about letting anyone in on our secret. “We just… we have a sort of past. I mean, of course we do. But this is something that happened between us a few years ago and it ended up causing a rift between us and our mothers. We were all very close. Like, vacations and holidays together.”
“But he came back to you and swept you off your feet?” she asks wistfully.
“Yeah, sort of like that. And every time I think that maybe I’m over it, the whole ordeal feels like this big shadow I can’t let go of.”
“Wow. This is soWest Side Story. Very Montagues and Capulets coded.”
“You make it sound so romantic.” God, if she only knew.
“Because it is!”
“Says the girl who just wants to have sex and get it over with.”
She rolls her eyes. “This is different. This isforever. I’m not really an expert on healthy relationships, but you’ve both overcome so much to be together. All that’s standing in the way now is your ability and willingness to forgive each other. One thing my dad says that is actually true is that forgiveness is a choice.”
Daisy can pack a punch. My god. But there’s something to what she’s saying, isn’t there? Forgivenessisa choice. And I’ve never even considered making the active choice to forgive Bennett. What might it be like if I just tried? “Goddamn, remind me not to ask for your advice unless I really need it.”
She smiles. “I get it from my mom. Tough love with a soft touch.”
We spend the next hour or so chattering back and forth while I tinker with my pottery sketchbook and she color-codes some notes. She lived in Vegas with her family. Her parents are divorced. She has a complicated relationship with her dad. When she orders ice cream, she asks for a cup of sprinkles on the side and dips every spoonful. I tell her about working at the diner and how essentially my only friend is a twenty-nine-year-old single mother. I also explain that we used to be more well-off in a sense and she divulges that her dad has Money with a capital M, and she should feel guilty about spending it because his job is rather unsavory, but she doesn’t.
By the time all my stuff is dry, I find myself wishing that I had more laundry to do.
“Let’s hang out sometime,” Daisy says, and it occurs to me that I don’t need laundry as an excuse to spend time with her.
“That’d be great. Though I don’t think Briar is my biggest fan.”
She snorts. “Briar is no one’s biggest fan, but she’s a softy deep down. And trust me, if she doesn’t want to hang out, she won’t bother keeping it a secret. Besides, she’s an awful wing woman.”
I give her a chivalrous bow. “I would happily be your wing woman again sometime.”
CHAPTER 16
