Chapter 21
The Journal of Daisy D. Stiles - Twelve years ago
I’ve made a decision.
Well, first let me back up to my realization.
I love August Burton.
I know, I know. A teenager in high school doesn’t know the first thing about love, and maybe that’s usually true. But, I know this is the real deal.
That leaves me at a crossroad. Do I act on this feeling?
My answer: no.
Because the way I love August feels all-consuming and like forever type shit.
We don’t have forever. Or rather, we don’t have a shot at forever right now, under these circumstances. And I’m too selfish to risk losing him.
“Have you thought about names yet?” I raise my voice to ask Margot over the hammering and power tools drilling around us. I texted Margot earlier, asking if it was okay if I stopped by the cottages. She said yes as long as I was okay with incessant banging and boys arguing over simple tasks.
“That’s been the easiest thing about this whole pregnancy!” she exclaims, laughing.
If you looked up World’s Worst Friend in the dictionary, you’d find a picture of me. I look at Margot, round bump finally popping, and realize I’ve missed so much. I always miss so much, purposely keeping myself on the outskirts to avoid fallout.
This is hard for me to admit, but spending so much time with August has me bending and reconsidering a lot of my self-imposed rules, the ones regarding how close I allow myself to get to the people I care so deeply about. Sort of. Maybe.
“Are you willing to share?” I ask.
Margot readjusts her growing self in her wicker, egg-shaped chair. I’m pretty positive she’s reached the end of her time to be able to contort her body comfortably in there, but I’m not going to be the one to shed light on that fact.
A dreamy look takes over her face once she’s situated, despite the fact that we’re attempting to hang out normally in the middle of a full-blown construction zone in early November.
Sawyer’s trying to have the addition finished as fast as possible, racing a biological clock with the twins and mother nature, who’s mercifully kept the weather at bay.
“Watch where you fuckin’ swing that thing!” I hear Gus bark at some poor construction worker who didn’t know what he signed up for when his boss sent him on this project. Margot and I snicker into the hot drinks warming our hands.
Margot’s boob-shaped mug is filled with what she calls a half caf—half hot chocolate, half coffee—because she’s been told to lower her caffeine intake. She gave me a dainty tea cup that says Kindly Fuck Off in fancy cursive along the inside rim filled with a really nice apple spiced tea.
“We’re naming them after Sawyer’s parents.
” Margot takes a sip. “Nora and Drea. I guess we could have gone with Andrea, because technically his dad was Andrew. But the initials on the tree say D & N so we’re sticking with Drea!
Besides, it’s good to be different. I’m different!
I’m having a baby before I get married. I’m having two babies before I get married.
” A shaky laugh escapes her. “And that’s totally fine, right? ” Margot’s wide green eyes meet mine.
“Margot?” I test, setting my cup down.
“You think I’m crazy,” she accuses. “Ugh. Everyone thinks I’m crazy.
And okay, maybe I am a little. I know I haven’t really been myself, but I can’t help it.
Every day I wake up, and something’s different!
The babies go from the size of lentils to lemons to some other fucking random object.
Who even comes up with those comparisons, huh?
And I don’t know what’s going on with my body.
I thought I’d have more time to see my feet.
I was definitely wrong about that. And as soon as I get a goddamn grip and come to terms with the fact that they’re growing in there, they’re going to be out here!
” Margot gestures wildly with her hands around us.
“I feel like a teen mom at thirty. An unplanned pregnancy as an adult? That’s embarrassing.” Margot slumps back into the chair, and I believe I have a second to finally, maybe get a word in.
I reach over and pat her leg. “First of all, their names are beautiful, just like Sawyer’s parents. Second, there’s nothing embarrassing about this. And it’s also normal to be freaking out at the same time. Both can be true.”
“I’m not freaking out!”
I chance leveling her with a look that lets her know that I know she’s full of shit.
“Okay, I’m freaking out a little. It’s just…Can I be honest?”
“That’s my preferred method of communication.” I laugh.
“I never pictured having kids. Not that I thought I didn’t want them—I just couldn’t see it.
Mostly because it either takes a shit-ton of money I never had to make one on your own, or you need a willing participant to create said kids.
And until Sawyer, I didn’t have that. I’m so sure of Sawyer.
I’m absolutely positive about Merrymount and everyone in it.
But we just got engaged, and I don’t want anyone thinking I’m not over the fucking moon happy… ” she trails off.
“You thought you had more time to wrap your head around everything?” I suggest.
Margot puffs out a breath, sending her wispy bangs flying, and wraps the wool blanket closer around herself. “I’m a piece of shit.”
“You’re not a piece of shit, Margot. You’re juggling so much.
You’re still putting in hours at the café, which let’s be honest—Red’s gonna cut you off soon.
You’re still getting your photography business off the ground, adjusting to living with someone and amongst this chaos.
All while pregnant. With twins. It’s a lot. ”
“Do you think you’ll ever have kids?” she asks.
“I have Chase and Hunter,” I answer automatically.
Never mind that they get older every day, and I feel like they need me less and less.
Never mind that I’ve been leaving them every other night in favor of sleeping at August’s, a fact that makes only me feel incredibly guilty since I haven’t had a meaningful run-in with my mother to let her add to that guilt. But it’s there and it’s strong.
“Your brothers don’t count. I’m serious, Daisy.”
“I don’t know,” I admit. “I guess I’m like you. I never really gave it thought.”
“So, give it thought now! What if you wound up pregnant tomorrow? What would you do?”
“I wouldn’t,” I balk.
The image of August unable to stop himself, finishing inside of me a couple weeks ago flashes across my mind, and I shake my head to clear it.
It was an adrenaline-fueled one-time mishap that hasn’t been repeated.
He pulls out now, I stupidly think to faux-assure myself.
As if that’s actually an acceptable replacement to a condom.
But I have the IUD. We’re responsibly exclusive friends who fuck.
“Oh,” Margot mutters. “Well, that’s an answer.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I try to respect your privacy, Daisy. I know how much you value it, and I never want to cross a line.” Margot starts fidgeting with her hands.
“But you’ve sort of been distant lately, a little more than usual.
And I was kind of hoping it was because you were seeing someone.
But if I did or said something, I hope you’d tell me.
I didn’t mean to pressure you about getting along with Gus, that was dumb and—”
“Margot.”
“I’m sorry, I just really wanted everyone—”
“Margot,” I snap, cutting off her ramble of an apology that’s not needed in the slightest. “I’m the one who should be sorry. I am sorry. I don’t want you to feel like that. You’re right, I haven’t been around the way I should be. And you had every right to put Gus and me in check.”
“No, I was meddling in your business. I just thought…I know I’m the new kid in town when it comes to our group. But it felt like there was something there.”
There is, I want to tell her. There’s something between me and August, and I don’t have the slightest clue what to do with it all.
I want to tell Margot everything, and then maybe she’ll be able to help me untangle myself from this mess I’ve landed myself in.
But she has enough on her plate. Now’s not the time to make this about me.
“Gus and I are fine. I’m fine,” I assure her.
“So…You’re not seeing someone? Where have you been? Don’t tell me holed up at home.”
Margot is now asking very direct questions that I don’t know how to respond to without flat-out lying, something I try like hell to avoid at all costs.
But she also has a right to ask because I really haven’t shown face aside from the small party we had to celebrate Penelope and Miller’s birthday the other week.
I hesitate a second too long.
“You totally are seeing someone!” Margot shrieks, and I pray with every non-believing bone in my body that no one else heard her.
“Pix, why are you yelling?” Sawyer calls, busting through a frosted plastic tarp.
My prayers fall on deaf ears, apparently.
“She’s fine!” I shout.
“Daze?” Gus asks, following behind Sawyer.
Oh, fucking marvelous.
“I’m interrogating Daisy here on her dating life,” Margot clues the guys in, and I consider making a guillotine for myself out of one of the saws they have on the side of the cottage.
“When did you get here?” Gus ignores Margot, focusing on me.
“I dunno, like an hour ago?” I offer before picking my tea up and pretending to sip it to avoid further conversation.
“Never mind that! Daisy, what’s going on?” Margot continues her witch hunt.
“Yeah, Daze.” Gus obnoxiously leans on the porch banister and crosses his arms with a scandalous smirk on his face. “Let’s hear about that dating life.”
I’m going to fucking kill him.
“I’m not dating anyone.” Truth.
“Sleeping with?” Margot asks with a raised brow.
“A proper lady doesn’t kiss and tell, and we all know Daisy Stiles here is the most proper,” Gus offers as an answer for me, patting the back of my chair.
I want to throttle him and smack my lips on his face at the same time.
“Boooooring,” Margot huffs.