Chapter 38 Daisy - What is my life?
Iroll the passenger window down, not caring how much the cold bites my face as I breathe in the fresh air of home when we pass the Welcome to Merrymount sign.
Gus and I decided to stay one more night in New York to soak up missed time with each other, really connect, and catch up.
I can’t believe I’ve been gone almost a whole month, and it simultaneously feels like everything and nothing has changed in that period of time.
Saying goodbye to Sally was as hard as I had expected it to be, but my promise to see her soon wasn’t empty. I’m no longer going to live my life on the outskirts like I had been for so long.
Plus, as much as August loves to bitch and moan about the city, I think he secretly loves it. I know we’ll be back for more than one occasion.
Even though I didn’t mention wanting to go this way, and there’s surely a shorter way to the house, Gus takes us down Main Street. I have a big, goofy grin on my face when we pass George’s Pizza, and we see him and his husband John working as a team behind their counter.
The pink and purple balloons flying around outside Red’s remind me of the baby shower I missed yesterday, and that pang of sadness only deepens when we pass the flower shop. There’s a piece of paper taped to the door that just says Closed for now.
Gus’s hand squeezing my thigh pulls me out of my funk and I look at him.
“It’s okay that it hurts. We’ll get through it,” he assures me. It’s easy for me to believe him.
When we pull up to the house ten minutes later, I’m surprised to see Hunter, Chase, Beth, and Mel sitting on the porch. The empty parking spot where my car usually sits reminds me that at some point I’m going to need to retrieve it from the long-term parking at the train station. Whoops.
“I tried to tell them the welcome brigade wasn’t necessary…” Gus groans.
I wrap my arms around his biceps and kiss the top of his shoulder. “No, it’s okay. I love it.”
The truck’s barely in park when I sprint out of the passenger door, not apologizing as Gus tries to yell at me for not letting him open it. Hunter and Chase somehow know to barrel down the porch steps and both of their little bodies crash into me.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry I was gone for so long. I’m never leaving you like that again,” I say while kissing both of their heads and breathing them in.
“Daisy, it’s okay. Gus has been taking care of us,” Hunter tries to assure me with a chuckle to calm me down.
“Yeah, did you know he can cook?” Chase asks me.
Chase.
Asks.
Me.
I go still. I look from one twin to the other, trying to see if Hunter threw his voice or something to mess with me. Chase stands there, looking at me. Waiting for an answer?
Because Chase asked me a question.
“What was that?” I breathe.
“Did you know Gus can cook?” Chase repeats slowly with a sly smile on his face.
“Chase Anthony Stiles…did you? What?”
“God, Daisy, don’t make him feel weird,” Hunter mocks.
“She’s gonna lose it when she gets inside,” Chase whispers to Hunter at a level that makes it obvious he wanted me to hear.
I close my eyes and put my hands on my hips, trying to get my bearings on what I just came home to. My little brother is talking for the first time in two years, and he’s razzing on me with his twin. While living with my…boyfriend? Baby daddy?
“What is my life?” I look up and ask the sky.
“Yours,” Beth says while approaching us. “Your life is wholly yours now, Daisy.”
“Beth,” I choke and easily fall into her arms next.
Mel is on her heels, reaching around to rub my back.
“You came home, we’re so proud of you.”
“How’re ya feeling, mama-to-be?” Beth asks while assessing me. “You been eating enough in that big city?”
“Yes,” I assure her with confidence. “I feel great. Better than ever, actually.”
“It’s good to see your face.” Beth kisses me on the cheek. “Well, Mel and I just needed to get eyes on ya. We’ll be leaving you to your new digs. Get settled and all of that.”
“Thank you,” I whisper as I hug Beth one more time. “For taking care of me and my boys. All of them.”
It’s been some time since Gus last threw wood on the fire out back, and the flames are starting to die down. Hunter and Chase went to bed at least an hour ago, but it doesn’t seem like me or August are itching to leave our spot out here anytime soon.
“I dreamed about this,” August says from where he lounges under me, a hand lazily drawing patterns on the top of my thigh. I plopped myself down on his lap with a blanket when I came back from saying goodnight to the boys.
“Which part?” I ask, urging him to keep talking. The deep rumble of his voice soothes me in a way I’ll never be able to articulate.
“You won’t believe me if I tell you.”
“I promise I will. Please, August,” I beg.
I look up with pouty lips, and I’m immensely pleased when August dips his head to meet me in the middle for a kiss. It starts slow, our lips learning each other at a languid pace. The tip of August’s tongue teases my bottom lip, and I sigh, opening for him to take over without a second thought.
My brain turns to mush, and I melt further into him when August’s hand snakes to bury his fingers in the hair at the nape of my neck.
He deepens the kiss, and I try to hold back a moan into his mouth with no success.
It’s not exactly a failure though when August practically growls back at me in answer.
I spent years wondering what it would feel like to kiss August Burton. If someone was to ever get ahold of my journal and read the pages and pages of entries dedicated to how badly I wanted to experience this very moment right now, I’d have to die of embarrassment.
But instead, I get to be held in August Burton’s big tree-chopping arms, growing our surprise baby, and getting tickled by that sexy and timeless mustache while he kisses me to his heart’s content.
To my heart’s content too, because I think falling in love when we were teenagers molded our souls together in a way that I just know is permanent, despite our many attempts to slice at the tethers.
August finally pulls his face from mine, and we spend the next however many minutes staring at each other.
The flames swish and flick in the deep pools of honey in his eyes.
Warmth and the feeling of home ebb and flow throughout my body, locking in a sense of peace I don’t think I could find anywhere else in the world, except August’s embrace.
He blows out a breath. “Back in high school, I used to picture us sitting just like this one day. I used to hope for there to be a time where I could touch you freely, not needing to hide behind an excuse of swiping something off your face or being too close in small quarters. I’ve always been drawn to you, Daze.
Hell, I even built this fireplace with the thought tucked away in the back of my mind.
Not enough to hold out hope or anything like that, but it survived all these years. ”
“We survived all these years,” I add.
“And as much as I want to bask in my version of a dream coming true,” Gus starts, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to the side of my head.
He tucks one arm under the backs of my knees, and positions the other against my back to lift me up in a cradle.
“There’s one more thing I gotta show you. Actually, two.”
I giggle and kick my legs the entire time it takes Gus to cross the yard up to the house. He doesn’t release me from his arms until we enter the kitchen. Still wrapped in the blanket, August sets me down so I’m sitting on top of the kitchen island.
“Close your eyes. Please,” he adds with a soft flick on my nose when I stick my tongue out at him. I have a feeling we’ll be this immature and playful and snarky to the end. I wouldn’t want it any other way though.
“Fine,” I concede with a teasing huff.
I hear August open a cabinet or two and the clicking of ceramic while I stay busy staring at the back of my eyelids, resisting the urge to peek.
“Okay, darling.” Gus gently cups the side of my face, urging me to open my eyes. When I do, my jaw falls open with them.
Sitting on the counter in front of me on two white shelves with the most adorable scalloped design is the full, twenty-four piece set of the original spice village, the one I scoured every nook and cranny of the flea market for.
The one that my mother smashed like it was nothing all those years ago.
The one I was certain I told no one about.
I brace my palms on either side to jump down from the counter.
I cross the two steps of space to pick up the first house I can get my hands on.
I grab the little purple-roofed oregano and run my fingers over each groove.
I inspect the little divot chipped on the peak of the turret with a smile, knowing this is the most perfectly imperfect, well-loved set.
“How? Where did you find this?” I whisper, not taking my eyes off each building, picking a different one up to admire every other second.
“I think the better question is where didn’t I find them. I’ve been checking off each of these damn houses for years. The last one was a bitch to find. Thankfully I had a friend put tarragon aside so I could pick it up.”
“Which friend?” I ask, finally meeting Gus’s gaze. He’s staring at me so intensely, it almost causes me to lose my balance.
“Carson. In New York,” Gus sheepishly admits. “It was no coincidence we found his shop, Daze.”
Oh. My. God.
“You’re telling me you’ve been secretly rebuilding this collection for me for over ten years?”
“I’d have searched for another ten years too if it wasn’t done.”
“And then what?” I probe for more answers.
Gus shakes his head, the smile I gazed at by the fire hasn’t faded even a little since. “I would have left them on your doorstep and never said a word about it.”
“You read my journal,” I guess.
He nods, not a drop of shame on his face. “When I wasn’t busy trying to keep my hands to myself, my eyes might have strayed once or twice.”
“August—”