Chapter 39 Daisy - The Merrymountain Man #2
Shit. I cannot remember her name for the life of me, and she’s standing right here in front of me with a look on her face that says—
“It’s Becka,” fresh out of high school girl Becka says with a friendly smirk.
“I knew that,” I lie. Fucking pregnancy brain.
August appears behind me.
“She definitely didn’t know that, but don’t hold it against her.” His hands land on my shoulders with a squeeze.
Becka giggles. “No offense taken. You are definitely preoccupied.” As soon as the words are out of her lips, Hunter and Chase crash into the counter on each side of me.
“Hi, Becka!” they both greet the pretty cashier simultaneously. Now that Chase is talking, their identical, synced-up twinness is kind of terrifying.
“Hey, boys,” Becka says, offering a wave. “Excited for the last day?”
“One more year of middle school, and then we’re high schoolers, baby.” Hunter fails at attempting a cool demeanor by pointing a finger gun at Becka. Everyone in the vicinity can tell he has a big crush, and while it’s adorable, I’m cringing.
“Anywayyy.” I palm my brother’s face, lightheartedly pushing him away from the counter. “How are you enjoying your summer vacation?”
Becka waves her hand, gesturing to the busy and filled café. “What you see is what you get. I’ve been practically living here since graduation. I’m saving up as much as I can before the fall semester starts. But, it’s awesome.”
Chris swoops by behind Becka. “What’s not to love? She gets to work with me.” A classic, cheesy, overconfident Chris smile plasters across his face.
“And me!” Melanie adds from the espresso machine.
Becka rolls her eyes. “Well, Ms. LeClair is the shit. But I knew that before I started working here.”
“Becka, my dear, I told you to please call me Melanie or Mel.”
Becka leans across the counter with an exaggerated whisper, “Not happening, that’s weird.”
When spring rolled around, Merrymount High School just so happened to be in need of a new swim coach. Who better for the job than Melanie LeClair? It was a perfect fit instantly. The students love her, and she gets to do exactly what she loves while being near her family.
“Do you call your mom Mrs. Hayes?” Melanie asks.
Oh, that’s right. Becka’s mom is an English teacher at the high school.
This earns another eye roll from Becka.
“For one, Madison Hayes is not a mrs. She left my dad when her frontal lobe developed, and realized she played for the other team. And two, that’s beside the point.”
Mel aggressively coughs. “Oh. I’m sorry, I didn’t—”
“She’s gay and divorced, not dead.” Becka cackles.
“Goddamn, Becs, you fit in here with no issues,” Gus says, clearing his throat after a deep belly laugh.
Mel continues to look frazzled beyond belief and turns back around to finish the drinks she was prepping earlier.
We place our orders, pay with Becka, and then move aside to let new customers step up. Hunter and Chase find an empty booth to occupy, and Gus steers me in their direction with his hand on the small of my back.
Bagels are devoured, and Hunter and Chase take turns talking over one another while they plan out how they’re spending the next two weeks by the beach with Gram.
Gus keeps a hand firmly planted on my stomach to feel each time our daughter graces us with a kick.
Or an elbow jab. Or a rogue hiccup. I love each and every form of movement she decides to give me.
The proof of life is reassuring for an anal control freak like myself.
She’s a little more chaotic than usual in there today, though.
When I check the time and see the boys definitely missed the first bell, we say quick goodbyes to everyone in the café and speed to the middle school. After dropping their tardy asses off at the front office, Gus and I pull up to the riverside to see the parking lot already almost completely full.
Tourist season is starting early this year, and not to toot my own horn or anything, but I might have a teensy bit of an idea as to what sprung it on.
Gus groans from the driver’s seat of the new SUV we traded my car in for.
While I’ll always hold a special place in my heart for that old beater of a truck that’s parked up next to the house, it doesn’t fit the twins, and I’m sure as hell not bringing a newborn home in a truck with no backseat to rear face the car seat.
I try to stifle my giggles with no luck. “Oh, shit.”
When Gus cuts the engine, he shoots me a scowl. “I know you get a kick out of this.”
“I don’t have the faintest idea of what you could possibly mean,” I answer, avoiding eye contact by looking out the passenger window.
“Don’t touch the fucking door,” he grumbles and exits the SUV. When he rounds the vehicle to open my door, he juts his hand out for me to take. “I used to just show up, do my job, and retreat back to the quiet of my house. Now I’m dodging these piranhas like I’m a piece of meat.”
Okay, so yeah. Maybe the uptick in customers has a demographic of early twenty-something-year-old women who might have a little parasocial crush on the Merrymountain Man, as they have so lovingly coined him online. And Beth and I are quite possibly using every bit of it to our advantage.
“Is it really so bad?”
With an arm draped around my shoulders, Gus pulls me into his side and kisses the top of my head as we walk towards the main cabin.
“Nah. Not when I get to see the look on their faces after I point in your direction to let them know who my baby mama is.”
“I abhor that title,” I say, scrunching up my nose in disgust.
“Marry me, then.”
I come to a complete stop. “What?”
August removes his arm to step in front of me. He grabs my chin gently with his fingers, tilting my face up towards his.
“I love you.”
“I love you, too,” I breathe.
All six foot, five inches of August Burton sink down to one knee, right in the middle of the dirt parking lot, in front of at least twenty strangers and a hooping and hollering Beth.
“Marry me, Daisy. Grow old with me just like how we grew up together. Be my wife.”
“But we—I mean—It’s only been so many months and—”
I’m floundering. This isn’t a part of the plan. Actually, there is no plan. We’re building a life together with kids and a house and a business but…marriage? That’s quite the commitment without a conversation.
“And what, Daze? There’s no one else for me, never has been. And I’m pretty sure you feel the same way about me. I can’t offer you the world, but I can give you our own little version of it here.”
“Well, when you put it like that, you’re not giving me much of a choice.” I shake my head in disbelief, trying to will the tears back into my head even though they’re already falling down my face.
“You always have a choice, Daisy darling. I’m just kneeling here, hoping you pick the one in my favor.” The wink he offers me melts me dead on the spot.
And even though it’s insane, even though I normally crave authority and routine and the expected rather than the unexpected, I’ll throw it all to the wind every time for August.
“Yes, you big fucking oaf,” I manage to choke out in between sobs.
Gus is on his feet, grabbing each side of my face with his hands and pulling me towards him in the next second. When our lips crash together, I grab hold of his forearms for purchase, and the rest of the world melts away.
All I know is that August is kissing me in a way I dreamed about as a teenager. And if teenage me could see us now?
Wowee. She’d need medical attention.
But when what I can only describe as a feeling of gush pulls me out of the love-filled trance the kiss with my newly titled fiancé had me in, I realize that I currently—not teenage me—might also need medical attention.
“Uh, August,” I pant into his mouth.
“Daze…” Gus says with a shaky voice as he pulls his face from mine and opens his eyes.
“I think my water just broke.”
“You think your water just broke,” Gus repeats back to me in a robotic voice. He might be broken.
A lightning bolt of pain I probably wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy slices through my lower back. I wince and jerk at the feeling.
“Shit.”
“Oookay,” Gus calls out. He gives his head a few quick shakes. “We’re doing this. Well, you’re doing this. You’re already fucking killing it, Daze. Let’s get you to sit down for a minute.” Gus tries to guide me over to the main building, but I’m rooted in place by another bolt.
“Fucking Christ,” I cry out. “No sitting.” I think if I tried to bend my body in any way right now it would snap in half. Sitting is not an option.
“No sitting. Got it,” Gus confirms with his hands on his hips now assessing me with nervous eyes.
Beth joins him in the next second.
“Oh, we’re doing this early. That’s okay. Everything is okay. Gus, go pull the car up, drive it on the grass.”
“Great idea.” Gus turns to walk away and then abruptly stops, turning back to head to me.
“I love you, you’re doing amazing. I’ll be right back. I’m not going anywhere.”
“I know, August,” I breathe when another contraction settles. “I love you. But we gotta go.”
He sprints to the SUV, and Beth moves to stand in my line of vision.
“Well, shit. The bunch of you move quickly with everything you do. You’re giving me whiplash. An engagement and a baby in the same day has to be a new record for us.”
“Beth, I don’t know what to do,” I admit with a whine.
I’m every variation of scared. I thought I had more time. My due date isn’t until next month, for fuck’s sake. What the hell is she doing coming almost a whole month early? I’m not ready.
“You listen here, Daisy.” Beth points a finger at me, and I focus on the movement to ground myself. “You listen to your body. You’re the perfect person for this job, okay? You’re her mother. You know best.”
“But—”
“No buts. You are the strongest woman who has faced much scarier things than this. Childbirth? A cake walk. You know why?”
I shake my head.
“This part of it all ceases to matter the second you lay eyes on her. Think of that moment. Keep it on the forefront of your mind as you breathe through each contraction and push. Let August take care of you while you take care of her.”
When Gus pulls the SUV up, the first thing I notice is the sense of calm that has taken over his face. Everything about his demeanor is suddenly clear, steady, and strong.
My lifeline. My rock. My person.
I find smiling easy when I look at him.
“Let’s go have a baby, baby.”