16 The Legendary Daisy
The Legendary Daisy
Naya and Will had gone away for a few days and Sue was gone, too.
I guess everyone was antsy and needed to get away.
I was leaving that weekend to go home myself.
I hoped everyone would be back the next day, so I could see them before I left.
But I can’t say I was upset about having an entire night alone with Ross ahead of me.
Sorry I said alone . I should have mentioned Mike was still in the apartment. And that was a problem.
He was pacing back and forth in the living room, looking frantic, as I stepped out into the hallway, confused. I watched him pick up his jacket, turn out the pockets, and throw it on the floor.
“Is something up?” I asked.
He looked pale, nervous. He didn’t smile. That wasn’t the Mike I knew.
“I can’t find my fucking wallet,” he said.
“Here, let me help you,” I said.
“Do you have any cash on you? It’s urgent…”
My instincts told me not to, but what if he was really in trouble? I felt myself starting to reach for my wallet, but I stopped. “Sorry,” I lied. “I don’t have anything on me. I could call Ross…”
“No! Just leave it.”
He opened the drawer of the end table, didn’t find what he was looking for, and slammed it shut, sitting down and scratching his temple.
“Listen,” I told him. “I don’t have time right now, but if you don’t find your wallet, text me and I’ll try to come back and help you find it. I’m sure Ross will give you money if you need. Or maybe I can take some out of the ATM.”
Mike didn’t respond. He seemed to want to be by himself, so I gathered my things and left. In the elevator, I set Ross a message:
Mike’s acting weird. I think he needs money. Maybe you should call him.
I didn’t wait for a response because I was running late. I just tossed my phone in my purse and took off running for the train.
I was tired when class was over. I hadn’t slept well the night before. It was getting late, and I was also starving. On my way down the stairs, I thought I heard someone say my name. I looked around, and my eyes settled on a woman standing in front of me. It was Ross’s mother.
“Mary?” I said, surprised.
“Hello, dear.” She was smiling the way she usually did, but something in her face seemed worried. I continued down the stairs, feeling my pulse speed up, and asked her if everything was OK.
“Of course,” she hurried to reassure me, although I wasn’t sure if I believed her. “We’re having a dinner at my place, and Jackie didn’t have time to come pick you up.”
“How come?” I asked, following her to the parking lot. Ross hadn’t mentioned anything to me about being busy.
“He had to get Mike,” she said simply.
She drove an Audi, gleaming gunmetal blue, that probably cost as much as Ross’s apartment. It smelled sexy inside, of leather and polish, and I almost felt bad about resting my damp old boots on its immaculate carpet. Mary smiled as she started the engine.
Did she know about my relationship with Ross? What it really was? For that matter, did I? I wasn’t sure, but I asked her how Ross was.
“He’s fine, why?”
“Because this is the first time he’s ever sent someone else to pick me up.”
“Well, he’s been a bit busy these days. You know he’s working on his short film…”
I did know that, but he hadn’t said much about it. Just that he wouldn’t be home much for a while. Ross didn’t like to talk about his work or studies—I just assumed that was an artist thing, and I tried to give him his space.
“Yeah,” I responded. “We miss him back at home.”
“You know he’s also worried about whether he’ll get into the program abroad.”
“What program?”
“Well, you know, honey, Ross wants to do the film program in Cannes. He probably hasn’t mentioned it to you because he’s so anxious about it. That boy really is a handful.”
Trying to conceal my anxiety, I asked, “It’s for film?”
“Yes. It’s a wonderful program, in Cannes. Jackie’s had his eye on it since he was a teenager, but I don’t know. He’s completely unpredictable. He didn’t apply until the last minute, and now I wouldn’t be surprised if they accepted him and he decided not to go.”
The mention of Ross’s teenage years must have gotten her to reminiscing, and she started telling me stories about Mike and Ross when they were boys.
She was finishing a story as she pulled into her garage.
I saw that Mike and Ross hadn’t arrived yet, and once we entered the house, there was no sign of their father, which also put my mind at ease.
She must have read my thoughts because she said, “I try to be sure my children and my husband don’t run into each other.” She opened her fridge and checked the temperature of a gazpacho that made my mouth water. “As you already saw, they don’t get along very well.”
“I kind of got that impression,” I replied. I looked up at her to be sure the remark hadn’t angered her. To the contrary, she seemed amused.
“Are you in the mood for a glass of wine while we wait for those two disasters I call my boys to arrive?”
“I’m not a big fan of wine.”
She took a beer out of the fridge and handed it to me instead. “You should drink up now,” she said. “Once Mike’s here, they usually disappear.”
We walked together to the living room. I felt like a little girl around her, unsure what to say or do. I wanted to make a good impression on her, but…who was I to impress someone? Especially someone like that? I was much better at embarrassing myself, in all honesty.
“You know you can have a seat,” she said, patting the couch cushion next to her.
Oh no , I thought. She’s going to interrogate me.
Maybe Ross and I weren’t technically going out, but it still felt like it had when I’d met Monty’s mom. And she hadn’t been happy at all that I was stealing away the love of her pampered only son.
“How are things with your boyfriend?” she asked.
Brilliant. What a way to begin. I’d forgotten the subject had come up at our dinner with Ross’s dad.
“I ask,” Mary continued, “because Agnes told me your story.”
“Oh,” I said. “We’re done.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be. I mean, we broke up a few weeks ago, but for me, it was like we’d already done it a long time before. Things really changed when I met R—You know, when I moved here.”
I could feel myself blushing. Brilliant. Mary took a drink of her wine and looked closely at me. She was so kind, but I couldn’t stop feeling she was inspecting me. “Well,” she said, “tell me a little something about what you’re studying. English, right?”
“Yeah. I can’t really say I’m that crazy about it.”
“You know, you could change majors. You should think it over. College is a time to learn about yourself. What do you do in your free time?”
“Nothing much. I run. I did track in high school, mainly because one of my brothers kind of forced me into it. But I did like it. My nephew’s in Little League and I helped them train before I left.
They did pretty well; they made it to the county championship.
I feel like that’s sort of it. There’s another thing, but I’m embarrassed to say it around you.
I did used to paint. I think I told you at the gallery.
But it was nothing compared to what you do. ”
“What kinds of things did you paint?”
“Just stupid stuff,” I said. “My friends used to like me to make portraits of them. They weren’t very good, but…”
“They couldn’t have been that bad if your friends wanted them.”
“Maybe they weren’t horrible, but trust me, I’m no Picasso.”
“I got my start doing portraits, too,” Mary said with a smile. Just then, the door opened, and we could hear Mike and Ross bickering long before they made it to the living room.
“Boys, do we have to start with this already?” their mother asked. Ross was the first to come in, and he looked so angry that I’m not sure he saw us as he tore off his jacket and threw it onto the sofa. Mike followed him with his usual slightly smug smile. “Hey, Jenna,” he greeted me.
Ross turned and realized we were there.
“Everything OK?” I asked.
“Yeah,” Ross responded, “everything except I had to go pick this idiot up from the police station. For another fight. You know, Mike, you might at least try to change things up now and then. This must be the fifth time I’ve had to bail you out for the same thing.”
“I didn’t start it,” Mike said. “I was minding my business, this guy got in my way, so I gave him a little shove.”
“You broke his nose,” Ross corrected him, sitting down next to me. “Couldn’t you at least have taken off running instead of sticking around for the police to come?”
“I’m a good citizen,” Mike told him. “I’m prepared to face the consequences of my actions.”
“The least you could do is say you’re sorry,” Ross said.
“I’m sorry,” Mike replied.
“Not to me, to them,” Ross instructed him.
Mike sighed. I was starting to feel uncomfortable. “Mom, future sister-in-law,” he said, “I’m sorry.”
Mary seemed as entertained by what Mike had called me as he was. I, of course, wished I could vanish on the spot.
Mike asked what was for dinner, and when Mary said there was gazpacho in the fridge, he shouted, “Gazpacho!” And took off running.
Ross followed him. Not wanting to be alone with Mary after that uncomfortable exchange, I asked where the restrooms were and she pointed me to Ross’s room, the last one upstairs on the right, which had its own en suite.
“You don’t think he’ll mind me going in his room?” I asked. When she rolled her eyes, I said, “OK, OK…”
The stairs were made of metal and glass, and my boots echoed on them on my way up.
I felt self-conscious about even walking in the hallway.
The carpet was flawless and looked very expensive.
The doors were all of glowing hardwood, and everything smelled fresh and clean.
It was so different from where I lived. With my brothers around, there was never any point in picking up.
Five minutes later, they’d trash it all again.