Chapter 2
two
DAISY
“And this is why we can’t have nice things, Mr. Platypus,” I scold my cat, Perry, as I hold the catnip-stuffed mouse in the air by its plush tail. “I literally just bought this a week ago. What do you do when I’m not home?”
Perry sets his eyes on the toy before licking his mouth.
I grumble as I toss the toy into the trash and grab the broom and dustpan from the corner closet. I want nothing more than to escape the hellish jeans I’m wearing, but nooooo, now I have to sweep up dried catnip herbs and stuffing.
Such a pleasure.
When I adopted Perry from the shelter—assuming he would be the sweetest cat ever, considering he was purring nonstop in his enclosure—I didn’t realize I was actually adopting a fluffy, saber-toothed tiger.
And yet, I have nothing but love for the little chaotic fucker.
I turn my head back to Perry and murmur, “Just please don’t do this with a real mouse, okay? I’ll throw up. Then you’ll throw up. And we don’t have another person living with us anymore to clean up both of us, mkay?”
Perry licks his mouth again before turning and sashaying to the couch.
That was the clearest, “I’ll do what I want,” from a cat, ever.
A sigh leaves me as I stand up and dump the contents into the trash.
It was a long day, and I debated putting in my notice at least…
twenty-seven times. Twenty-eight if you count the moment I bumped into Lindsay, the residential, homophobic cunt that often delivers bible quotes to my company mailbox and yet swears, “It’s not me.
But that is a really beautiful piece of scripture. Maybe it’s a winner?”
My eye twitches every time I see her now.
Especially after she smirked at me when news spread like wildfire throughout the HR department that I needed to take time off to move out of Sarah’s apartment—almost as if she was saying, I told you so.
The urge to stuff her bible quotes down her throat like the cheating-husband cock she swallows down every night is becoming far, far too tempting.
I lean forward on the kitchen island, close my eyes, and force myself to take a deep breath before my anger can get the best of me. Again.
1… 2… 3… 4, in.
1… 2… 3… 4… 5… 6… 7, hold.
1… 2… 3… 4… 5… 6… 7… 8, out.
I do that more than five times, and when I finally feel the weight lift off my shoulders, I sag forward, utterly exhausted.
Until my eyes open and lock directly on the picture of Lenny and I, smiling and partying at my college graduation party. My skin was bright and glowy, my eyes shining with the clear indication of a good buzz, and I looked happier than I ever have.
I swallow roughly as my eyes trail down the photo, catching more details second by second.
Lenny’s arm wrapped around me, pulling me into her soft form.
Her eyes on me, filled with love and admiration.
My eyes on hers, matching every emotion tenfold.
The picture was taken nearly five years ago, but somehow, it feels like an entire decade has passed during that time.
I don’t even feel like the same girl I was on my graduation day. The girl filled with sunshine, wildflowers, and country-music, midnight dances.
Instead, I feel hollow.
I’m at a job I despise.
I drink more whiskey than a grown man going through his third divorce.
My ex-fiancée cheated on me with her high school sweetheart, only to blame me.
And to top it all off—I finger-fucked Lenny, my best friend in the entire world, in the bathroom stall of a gay bar. Since then, we’ve spoken maybe ten words to each other, and I’ve come to the realization that I’ve been in love with her the entire goddamn time.
I rub my temples and hiss out a breath. Now, I have a headache.
Yeah, I’m sunshine alright.
Yippee-ki-yay, motherfucker.
Where’s a wildflower field to set on fire when you need one?
My phone buzzes in my back pocket, and I have the overwhelming urge to cry at the sensation.
But instead, I put my big-girl panties on and slide it out to see who’s calling.
And I’m immediately grateful that I did.
My mood lifts as I see Dad’s name flashing across the screen.
My thumb swipes to answer, and I raise it to my ear with a tearful, relieved smile.
If there’s anyone who can make me feel better, it’s my dad.
No one would ever expect the stubborn bastard of a cowboy to be a princess-girl’s hero, and yet, here we are.
“Hi, Dad!” I say into the phone as I go sit on the new grey sectional I just bought. “How are you? How are things? How’s Kairo?”
His harsh laugh fills the air as I put the call on speaker. “Damn, girl. One question at a time. Don’t you know your father is getting old?”
I roll my eyes. “You’re forty-eight.”
“Uh, huh. And that’s twenty-three years older than you. I’m old as shit.”
“I’m waitinggggg,” I poke.
He chuckles. “I’m good. The ranch is good. Kairo is dead.”
My heart seizes as my back snaps ram-rod straight.
“WHAT?! Come again?” Exactly then, though, my phone buzzes with a text.
I click on it, confused, only to sag into the couch as I register the image before me.
A selfie of dad sticking his tongue out, with my horse, Kairo, in the background staring back at me.
I growl, “That is so not funny.”
The man almost fucking giggles. “It was a little funny.”
“You know,” I start. “You’re lucky that you’re my dad, because if you were any other man in the entire world, I would light your ass on fire for that.”
“Sounds like I raised you right then.”
That’s one way of putting it.
He continues. “How are you, Birdie? We haven’t talked much lately. Very unlike you.”
Guilt gnaws at me immediately, and I lie through my teeth. “I’m good! Life is good.”
He calls me out right away. “Bullshit.”
My mouth drops open. “What? How could you possibly know that?”
Dad clicks his tongue at me, and I can see the toothpick sticking out of his mouth, clear as day.
It’s an image engraved in my brain after so many years.
“We haven’t spoken more than a random text here or there in months, you haven’t sent me a single meme in weeks, you live only two hours away and haven’t visited your horse, and…
oh yeah, you just dumped your fiancée. Totally not correlated or anything. ”
I correct him with a punch to my own heart. “She cheated on me, Dad. I didn’t dump her.”
He scoffs. “Pffft. Yes, you did. What are you kids saying now? Make me your villain? Yeah. Make her the villain. Who gives a shit? You dumped her. Feed the delulu.”
I hold my phone out like it’s inhabiting an alien and will explode any second. “Who are you and what did you do to my dad?”
His tone turns bashful. “I hired a new assistant for the ranch. Two of them, actually. They’ve been teaching me a lot of, uh… lingo. But enough about me, Birdie. What’s going on?”
I have so many questions based on his tone and quickness to change the topic—but I push on and give him the truth. “What isn’t, Dad?”
He sighs. “Uh-oh.”
“Yeah,” I say back. It’s all I have left in me anyway.
“Well, are you at least getting out of the house since the split? Has Lenny been kidnapping you? She was always my favorite in all your friend groups.”
I wince. “About that…”
He repeats himself, firmer this time. “Uh-oh.”
My teeth scissor my bottom lip back and forth. “Yeah.”
“Do I even want to know, Birdie?”
I shake my head even though he can’t see me. “Erm… I’d rather not share all the details, but let’s just say that I may or may not have realized that I’m in love with her, and I’ve since pushed her away because of it.”
“Hmm. You two had sex, didn’t you?”
I gasp. “Dad!”
He laughs. “What? You were born into this world somehow. I think you’re a little too old to be believing in storks now.”
I lean forward and rub my temples for the second time today. “I plead the fifth.”
The laugh that comes out of his mouth is nothing short of pure and authentic. He goes on for almost an entire minute before he catches his breath. “I figured as much. So, why’d you push her away? That was dumb.”
My head snaps up. “Says the man who pushes all of his love interests away!”
“Eh, tomato, potato, you ain’t me—yada, yada, yada. So, why’d ya do it?”
“I… don’t even know. Embarrassment, I guess. Fear of rejection. Fear of a happily-ever-after, only for it to be torn from me, once again. I was just cheated on, ya know.”
“So, you’re scared and taking the easy way out then.”
I glower down at my phone. “You know, some girls wish they had a dad at all, and here mine is—essentially calling me a pussy.”
“Yurp.”
I shake my head and turn my eyes to Perry, who is tearing into another faux mouse.
The demon.
My dad sighs into the phone before taking on a serious tone that makes me sit up straighter. “Come down to the ranch, Birdie. Get away from your life right now. I miss you. Your horse misses you. And you need a genuine, real break.”
I sniffle as tears line my eyes. “I can’t just leave everything.”
“And why the hell not?”
A heavy tear falls down my cheek. “I have a job. And a cat. And…” I go silent.
“Hmm,” he responds.
I stare at my floor blankly. “Hmm?”
“Hmm.” He sounds firm.
And as a daddy’s girl to my core, I know exactly what those grunts mean. “I don’t have a choice, do I?”
“Not this time. I already invited Lenny. I called her first to do a wellness check on you, and she acted like everything was perfectly fine. You girls really think I was born yesterday, don’t you?”
I’m struck silent at his words, mouth agape.
He continues, “There’s an open position at the ranch if you need a job—which, we both know you don’t, but you’re an independent little shit, so whatever. But hey, bring Perry. I’m having a rat issue.”
My mouth stays open as my brain tries to wrap around what just happened.
He ends the call with one last statement. “Be here tomorrow. Supper is at six. Love you, kid!”
And the phone beeps as the call ends.
With Perry staring at me in utter joy, as if he understands that he’s getting rats for dinner tomorrow.