Chapter 22
~Deacon~
“Can I ask you a question?”
The words are out of my mouth almost as soon as Daley walks away from the stand and leaves me alone with her friend, Jane.
The petite brunette has bouncy curls, stylish glasses, and the ‘middle-aged mom’ vibe that Daley lacks.
Based on our brief interaction so far, she also seems to both understand that there’s something between me and Daley and to have very little filter, which is what I need right now. Brutal truth has its advantages.
“If I can ask you one in return,” Jane offers, and though I have a feeling that might be a dangerous bargain to make, I agree anyway.
“Deal.”
“Go ahead, then,” she encourages, straightening out a few of the things on the table that already look perfectly straight to me.
There’s probably an elegant way of asking what I want to know, but not knowing how long Daley will be gone for, wasting time isn’t in my best interests. I blurt it straight out instead: “Does Daley date?”
Jane's eyebrows lift behind her glasses. “Like, ever?”
“Ever. Often. In general. What’s normal for her?”
Basically, I need to know if her reluctance to give the attraction between us a chance comes down to our age difference and my position as River’s captain, as she says, or if there’s more to it than that.
When I take on a rival team on the ice, I look at the big picture to work out the best strategy, and that’s what I’m trying to do here too.
If I want to break through the barrier she’s set up between us, I need to understand what that barrier is made of.
To my relief, Jane doesn’t hold back. “I’ve known her for fifteen years, and in that time, she’s never had what I’d call a serious relationship.
She dates, mostly over in Bismarck where she won’t run into anyone she knows, and usually men that she meets through those god-forsaken dating apps.
Once, she saw someone for nearly a year, but they only got together about once a month.
She won’t date anyone in town in case it gets awkward, not because there haven’t been men who are interested. ”
That all backs up the theory that’s been taking shape in my head: Daley’s looking for an excuse to push me away, not because of anything I am but because of something internal that’s holding her back.
I can’t imagine a sensual, giving person like her being alone for so long. It seems like such a damn waste.
“My question to you is pretty much the same,” Jane continues. “Since your divorce, how much are you getting around?”
She gets right to the point, and since I did pretty much the same thing, I answer her candidly. “I had a few hook-ups in the immediate aftermath but that’s not really my scene. I’m more of a one-woman kind of guy, usually. I haven’t dated anyone since June.”
I’m not sure if she knows about what happened in Las Vegas, but the truth is I haven’t been on a date with anyone since meeting Daley. No one has captured my interest in the same way, and I’m not in the habit of settling.
“You should tell Daley that,” Jane advises. “Have a conversation with her about all of this.”
“I intend to.” There’s a lot I want to talk to her about tonight, and a lot more I want to do besides talking, but first, we’ve got a showcase to get through.
Daley returns with coffee for her and Jane, and someone makes an announcement over the PA system that the doors are opening to the public. It doesn’t take long for people to stream in, and it feels like 90% of them make a beeline straight to our booth. In a minute, we’ve got a crowd ten deep.
“Well, hello there everyone.” Daley beams at the crowd, holding her hands up to try to quiet the chatter and make herself heard. “It’s great to see so many of you interested in science this morning. We’re going to try to keep this moving, but we need to… if we could just…”
It’s a losing battle as the conversation grows louder, so I let out a loud whistle that always works to get everyone’s attention on the ice.
Instantly, the crowd goes quiet.
“Thanks.” Daley flashes me a smile that warms something deep in my stomach.
“As I was saying: we have an experiment that Mr Belin is going to be helping with and we can take ten kids at a time. Jane has a sign-up form so you don’t have to stand around waiting and can check out all the other booths until it’s your turn.
Deacon, do you want to pick the first ten? ”
I choose ten of the children closest to the table and the others groan in frustration but obediently shuffle over to Jane to sign up for a later time.
Daley and I join the table of ten eager kids between the ages of eight and fourteen, seven boys and three girls.
A few of the boys are wearing Wolves jerseys, at least two of which have my name on them.
Yeah, word definitely got out ahead of time.
“I think science is pretty cool,” Daley announces to the group, looking completely at home with the children. “It’s in everything, all around us, including in our own bodies. Do you guys know what DNA is?”
A couple of hands shoot up, the boys all glancing at me as if they want to prove to me that they know the answer.
“Go ahead,” Daley encourages one of the girls.
“It’s the stuff that we’re made out of,” she states, stumbling over her words slightly as everyone shifts their attention to her.
That’s about as good an answer as I could give, so I’m glad when Daley nods.
“That’s right. It’s like a secret code that tells our bodies how to do all kinds of things.
Every living thing has its own DNA code, and while it’s hard to see our DNA without using a microscope, we can actually see the DNA of some other things much more easily. ”
From beneath the table, she draws out a basket of strawberries, making the kids giggle.
“We’re going to see strawberry DNA?” one of the boys asks, his voice breaking on the second syllable of ‘berry’.
“Exactly,” Daley confirms. “I’m going to give you two strawberries each and you’ll use all the things in front of you to pull out some DNA. Are you ready?”
“I’m ready,” I announce, and the kids all enthusiastically agree.
Once the strawberries are in the zip-top bags, Daley has the kids smash them with their fists, to their delight.
In a cup, they mix dish detergent, salt and water from her supplies, then pour that into their strawberry mush.
Once they’ve mashed it again, more gently, they empty the contents into a coffee filter over another cup and squeeze out the juice.
My job is to add some rubbing alcohol to each of the glasses of strawberry juice.
“Now, pick up your coffee stirrer, and gently scoop up some of the DNA that’s risen to the top.”
Daley demonstrates with her own cup and the children all follow suit, exclaiming over the white, cloudy-looking substance.
“Is that really DNA?” I ask, peering curiously at the results of her experiment.
“Absolutely. Isn’t it cool?”
The kids all agree, and while Daley cleans up all the supplies and prepares for the next group, I sign autographs and take pictures with the kids. By the time they’re finished, the next ten are ready to go.
“Do you need me to do it again or are you good?” Daley asks me.
Glancing down at all the supplies, I’m pretty sure I’ve got it, but I can’t pass up the chance to see her in action one more time. “Can you give me one more demonstration?”
She obliges, and this time, I simply admire her: the genuine enthusiasm she has, the natural ability to speak to the kids at their level and answer their questions in a way that makes sense to them, and her excitement when the experiment works, even though she’s probably seen it a hundred times before.
“Jane will handle the supplies between groups,” she tells me when the next group has moved on. “You can focus on the kids. I think you’re going to be pretty busy.”
She sounds apologetic, but I knew what I signed up for when I agreed to this. “No problem, Mama. I got it.”
Her eyes lower as they do every time I call her Mama, her cheeks tinting that enticing pink, and she heads to the table to speak to some of the parents who are interested in signing up for lessons for their children while I greet the next group of kids.
“Try to make me look good, guys, okay? This is my first time doing this and I want to impress Ms Adams.”
They all laugh and we dive in. Thanks to Daley and Jane having laid everything out so well, it’s pretty hard to screw it up.
The line doesn’t dwindle once during the day, and along with the kids wanting autographs, a few women try to slip me their phone numbers.
If I can, I refuse as kindly as possible, not wanting to give them false hope, but sometimes, they don’t give me a chance to.
The woman who greeted me at the door this morning is one of them, slipping it into the back pocket of my jeans without my permission while I’m talking to one of the kids.
My jaw clenches as I feel her hand grazing my ass but there’s nothing I can do about it without making a scene in front of the kids.
When I glance over at Daley, she’s shooting daggers with her eyes at the woman’s retreating form, clearly having witnessed the whole thing.
Jane scheduled me a lunch break and managed to get me a quiet room to take it in, away from the unending demands for more photos and conversation.
“I didn’t realize the town was even this big,” I joke to Daley when I get back from my break.
“It isn’t. All the neighbouring towns are showing up too.”
Great. “Is that good news for your business?”
“We’ll see, but one thing’s for sure: we are definitely the booth to be at this year.”
The grateful smile she gives me makes every second of the long day worthwhile.
Jane has to cut off our sign-up sheet before two o’clock and we’re still running our last experiment when the voice over the PA system announces that the showcase is over. The last attendees are ushered out, and Daley lets out a deep sigh of relief.
“That was crazy! Deacon, I can’t thank you enough.”
“It was my pleasure.” Honestly, I had fun. I wouldn’t want to do it every day, but for a change of pace, I enjoyed it. “Do we need to pack all this up now?”
Jane steps in before Daley can answer. “Actually, my husband’s heading over to help with that, I told him that’s his contribution for today. You two have earned some time off. Go on and get out of here.”
“Are you sure?” Daley asks, her brow lined with concern. “It won’t take too long if we all work together.”
“I’m positive.” Despite being several inches shorter than Daley, she puts her hands on Daley’s shoulders and turns her around, pushing her away from the booth. “Go and relax. On Monday, we can go over the sign-ups and make a plan for following up.”
Behind Daley’s back, she gives me a wink that says Don’t forget what I said earlier.
I won’t, and even though I should be exhausted after the busy day, there’s a spring in my step as Daley and I head towards the exit and whatever the rest of the evening has in store for us.