Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Daisy
I zoomed around my apartment, tidying all of Laila’s items. Both of her plush blankets were on the floor. I folded the one with a bunny embroidered in the corner. Mom had bought the blankie that was loaded with daisies. One of the many packages that randomly showed up.
Laila was still sleeping. She and Mom had been asleep when I returned last night. My sleep had been fitful, and I’d gotten up early. As soon as Mom woke, I took the opportunity to fill her in on Alder’s scandalous offer.
“Can you believe it?” I stooped to grab a doll with floppy arms and legs. “Married. Again.”
What if we married to get the house?
Married! What had he been thinking?
Oh, right. He’d laid it all out.
It makes perfect sense. You’ll have a place to live for a year, and when that year is done, I’ll get the house. I can even rent it to you after. It’s five bedrooms, Daisy. Remember. Plenty of room for you and Laila.
He would have to live with me. Or I would have to live with him? We’d have to be believable . A divorced couple pretending they were in love. Then when the house was signed over to him after the year was up, we could divorce. Again. As if the first time hadn’t ripped my heart out. A second time would resurrect all those emotions, fake marriage or not.
The audacity of that man.
“It was like he dropped a shovelful of shit on his real proposal.” Which had been perfect. Complete with a small ring with a dainty square diamond and a wedding band with six diamonds that was now back in its little black box in my sock drawer. I only looked at it twice a year. The anniversary of the day he proposed and what would’ve been our real anniversary.
“It sounds like more of a business deal,” she said.
Exactly.
I straightened and tossed the doll in an open box. I puffed a lock of hair out of my face and looked around for Mom. She was folding the daisy blanket.
“You do need a place to live,” she said simply.
“You can’t be serious.”
She looked at the boxes lining the walls like it was obvious what she meant. I had to be out in two weeks. Even if I’d been able to renew my lease, the house was small. The second bedroom was little more than a glorified walk-in closet. The bathroom barely had extra floor space for a clothes hamper and a step stool for Laila to use with the toilet. The kitchen was as big as the living room, but that wasn’t saying much.
“I’ll find something,” I said lightly, as if I believed myself. There wasn’t anything in my price range, and if there was, I couldn’t justify moving a kid into those living conditions. Nothing like lead paint and asbestos around a four-year-old.
She gave me a plaintive look. “Anything new open?”
“That guy is trying to rent out the house that flooded on Violet.”
Her lips flattened.
“He remodeled,” I said weakly.
“Doesn’t mean he’s a better landlord.”
No. It didn’t. I sighed. “I can’t marry Alder again.”
Those words had streamed through my head all night. I can’t marry Alder. Again .
“It’d be in name only,” she said.
Did Mom seriously think this was a good idea? She was practical, but remarrying my ex-husband?
Tempting.
No. “But Linda and Weston would have to believe it to sign off on it or he won’t get the house put in his name.” Alder’s dad might hate me. It’d be hard to tell with his aunt Linda. She seemed like she didn’t like anyone, but she’d always been pleasant when I’d crossed paths with her around town. Kind but not interested in chitchat, which was her MO anyway.
“That doesn’t mean you have to make out with him in front of them.” I sputtered but she continued folding and refolding the blanket until it was a perfect square. “In fact, I think it’d be easier to believe. You two were tied at the hip for years.”
Until we weren’t. “I can’t.”
“Then don’t.”
I huffed out a hard breath. “That’s not helping.”
She pushed up her glasses and blinked her owlish blue eyes at me. With her short, salt-and-pepper hair, she looked like a book-smart elf. “I think you want to go through with it. It’d solve a giant problem in your life. But you’re afraid of what others will think, like Jason. You’re afraid of becoming the topic of the grapevine. And maybe you’re afraid of Alder himself.”
“I’m not afraid of him.” I couldn’t summon any confidence. He was responsible for the biggest, longest case of heartbreak there was, but that had been my fault. Sort of. I’d divorced him, thinking he wasn’t the man I had thought he was.
The Alder Duke in his suit and long wool coat who worked in the C-suite of an oil company was the Alder I had thought I married.
I slumped my shoulders. “He’s even better looking than he was when we divorced.”
“That’s the way it goes.”
Mom wasn’t one for platitudes. I didn’t need them. I’d never been a knockout, and I wasn’t growing into one. There was no time for flat irons or curlers when I was getting Laila ready in the morning and off to daycare. I couldn’t be bothered by dressing any way other than comfortable, and I forgot to put on makeup so often I just quit buying it. I was a “plain Jane” and okay with it.
But Alder? He probably woke up with his hair perfectly combed. He used to wear it longer when we were married, but now he kept it neatly trimmed. Only a couple strands of gray twinkled at his temples, but all they did was whisper promises. This man was going to be fiiinne in a few years. And then keep getting better.
“Mom, I can’t marry him.”
We can sleep in separate bedrooms.
Would I get one night of rest while sleeping in the same house as that man? When I knew exactly how he could make me feel? Just like his looks, he’d probably gotten better at sex too. Honestly, I didn’t know how he could. He’d already been phenomenal.
I prodded my temples. A headache was coming on, and Laila would wake with a vengeance. Her routine was off, her sleep schedule messed up, and I’d pay for it all weekend.
“Then don’t marry him,” Mom said. “We’ll figure it out.”
We’d been trying to figure it out for three months. My rental had always been temporary. I needed to be out. In the middle of winter. Right before the holidays.
I didn’t want to move. I loved my job, and it was one of the few lab positions that didn’t require shift work. With Laila, that was critical. I also couldn’t take her farther from her dad. She was still adjusting to not living under the same roof as him. Jason would always let us back in, but I couldn’t do that to him. Nor could he take Laila full-time with his ever-changing schedule.
Reality was sinking in, one thought at a time. My living room was full of boxes I’d rescued from work. They needed to be filled, and I needed some place to haul them.
My options were few. Alder had presented the most comprehensive one. Yet I couldn’t bring myself to call him, to tell him that yes, I would, in fact, dig out my wedding ring and tell him I’d love him through sickness and health when we’d failed once already. My stomach lurched envisioning the possibility.
No. There was no way I was getting married to my ex-husband.
Alder
I reclined on the couch in the house Evander rented, which would be Violet’s after the two were married for a year. Until then, they were the picture of wedded bliss, and they weren’t pretending.
Envy gnawed at my chest wall, and I rubbed my sternum.
I’d had what they had once. I’d fucked it up.
I could have it again, but I jacked that all up too. I kept trying to tell myself I hadn’t overstepped. Daisy had told me her problems. I had presented a solution.
“You did what?” Violet’s eyes were wide. Instead of resting her hands on her eight-months-pregnant stomach, she spread her fingers wide across it. The sweater I suspected was Evander’s was pulled tight around her belly.
“All I did was offer.” All I had done was watch her look at me like I’d sprouted horns and was tempting her to hell. She’d asked how I could even entertain the thought, and none of my logic was enough for my usually practical ex-wife. I’d spent the night regretting everything and nothing at the same time.
“Your offer was to remarry Daisy? The wife you’ve already divorced?”
“She and the kid need a place to live.” I hadn’t even met Laila. Did she have big blue eyes like Daisy, or fraught brown ones like her dad?
A crack in my heart that would never heal ached. Daisy had a kid, and she wasn’t mine.
“There’s gotta be something.” Violet frowned and linked her fingers. She blew out a breath and inhaled like she’d been running. The baby must be putting a lot of pressure on her lungs.
Had Jason been around for Daisy when she was this far along? Had he rubbed her feet and made sure to take out the trash so she didn’t have to? Had he picked his goddamn socks off the floor?
I tugged at the collar of my crewneck sweater. I had stayed with Violet and Evander last night. The empty house that was supposed to be mine had sat empty another day.
My phone buzzed. When I saw Linda’s name, I scowled. “Shit.”
Violet sat forward as much as she could. “Is that Daisy?”
“Unless it’s to tell me I’m crazy and once again ask what I was thinking, I doubt she’ll call.” I worked my jaw back and forth. “It’s Linda. She has a potential renter. She’s showing them the house today.”
“Damn.”
“Yeah.”
“If Daisy decides differently, you can just wait out the lease and marry then.”
Stunned, I stared at her. “You want her to say yes?”
She pursed her lips like she was debating how much to say. “I’d hate for our family to lose the house.”
There was more she wasn’t admitting. Did she want me and Daisy to reunite? Regardless, I agreed with her about the house. We’d all grown up there. I’d been almost done with high school before Mom and Dad had moved. The others might not be as attached, but we all had fond memories. Just like my parents’ house was home, so was that place.
“Is there anyone else you can marry?” Her lips turned down like she smelled rotten eggs.
There was no one else I wanted to marry. Expectations would be set. I’d be ready to walk in a year when we fulfilled the requirements of the trust. Another woman might have ideas that included the real thing. Like babies.
No.
“It’d get complicated.”
Daisy was nothing if not practical. She’d go into this knowing that there’d be an end date. She’d keep her distance. She’d play the part.
And the whole time, she wouldn’t know that I was doing everything I could to win her back.
Daisy
“I want green cup!” Laila screamed. Her little fists were balled, and tears tracked down her face.
“That is the green one.” I pushed my hair back, hoping the neighbors wouldn’t call the cops—again—because Laila was in her “fierce four” era. She was opinionated, volatile, and tenacious.
“That one.” She stomped and pointed to a yellow-green sippy cup sitting dirty on the counter.
Damn. “Okay, let me wash it.”
“No!” She wailed some more.
So that was it. We’d reached the point where nothing would make her happy. She needed a nap, but she’d outgrown them. I needed her to nap, but that didn’t count for anything.
“I’m washing the cup and then we’ll go for a drive.” I didn’t frame it as a question. She’d fight it anyway.
Mom had left yesterday, and today, I didn’t mind Laila’s tantrum. The screaming took my mind off Alder’s proposal.
Married. Again.
I shook my head as Laila dropped to her butt on the floor and sobbed.
I filled the cup with chocolate milk, her weekend treat, and went to the door that led to the garage. I grabbed her coat off the hook. “Come on. Let’s go.”
“No!” she shrieked.
“Okay. I’m going.” I set the cup on the floor and shrugged into my coat. Next, I stepped into my winter boots and snagged my purse. We both liked afternoon drives. I could let my thoughts drift, and the hum of the engine and flashing scenery calmed her.
I retrieved her milk, opened the door, and stepped into the garage.
“Mommy.” She raced to the door, flopped onto her bottom again, and tugged her boots on. Her pajama pants bunched over the tops, but I didn’t fix them. One battle at a time.
I helped her with her coat, and she stomped out to the car with me.
Her fine, blonde hair stuck up in each direction thanks to her hood, but she got into her booster seat, and I buckled her in. She kicked her legs and guzzled her milk, probably to soothe her throat after hollering.
I backed out and drove through our dated neighborhood to the main highway going through town.
“Mommy, horses.”
“Pretty horses,” I replied. The excitement in her voice caused a pang of regret. She loved horses. I used to talk about how I couldn’t wait to get my own place and have ponies. I hadn’t shared those dreams with anyone—other than Alder—but Laila had picked her own fantasy about them anyway.
I hadn’t ridden as a kid. I had just wanted a horse. To pet. To talk to. People didn’t listen but a horse might. Their smell was soothing, and I loved the mellow way they munched grass. That was all.
Those dreams had been tabled after I divorced the ranch kid. Alder’s dad had quit ranching altogether when they’d moved to Billings and the pastures the Dukes had used for their hobby ranch had been leased out.
Within minutes, the house Alder had grown up in came into view. I hadn’t intended to drive here, but I drove by the house a lot on our excursions. The sight was calming, just like visiting it as a teen had been. The ditches were dusted with brown snow. We were supposed to get more next week and then a possible winter storm after that. Right when I was supposed to move.
The old place stood white against the tall pine trees Weston and Magnolia had planted shortly after they had moved in. Leafy green trees made up the middle row and lilac bushes that I drove out here to admire every June rimmed the third row on two sides of the house.
A layer of untouched snow blanketed the yard. When Alder and his siblings had been growing up here, there had been tracks all over. No mound of snow had gone untouched. The house had been alive and wild. So unlike mine.
Dad had been out a lot. He hung out with everyone but his family. Mom had quietly enjoyed my company, but I had been at Alder’s every chance I had gotten.
Two cars were out front. I recognized Linda and Darren rounding a silver car. The pickup had a single guy, my stomach sank. They were showing the house. Another renter who had no idea of the history here and might not care if he did. The man wore blue coveralls and a flannel shirt. His hat had ear flaps, but he wasn’t wearing a jacket. He probably worked at the mine or the refinery. Maybe the wind farm or the coal gasification plant.
Did he have kids who’d appreciate the wide-open yard? Would they watch the cattle graze on quiet summer days? Did he notice how little traffic there was? Except for my car, of course.
I kept peeking over as I passed.
Alder didn’t have a wife. Linda would rent the house.
I gnawed on my lower lip. Before I knew it, I was crossing to the other side of town using back roads I still knew like my own reflection. I passed through Barron ranch land and ended up idling down a long driveway. A fancy black pickup with chrome detail, a locked bed cover, and brand-new tires was parked by the walk to the front door.
My hands trembled when I put my car in park.
“Where are we?” Laila asked.
“A friend’s place.” He’d told me he’d be here.
This was where Violet lived, but Alder came outside in a maroon, cable-knit sweater that wasn’t one of the ten-dollar clearance sweaters I had once bought him. He wore jeans, and oh damn. Not only had his looks been refined, but his body had too with thick thighs and a powerful gait that spoke of all the hours he’d spent on horseback flying through the pastures.
If he put on a cowboy hat, I’d get pregnant again without touching him.
I didn’t get out of the car.
“Who’s that?” Laila gestured to the window with her yellow-green cup.
“An old friend,” I said softly. I fumbled for the control to roll the window down, but he beat me to it, opening the passenger door.
When he got in, that new-leather-and-cedar smell wrapped around me like an old lover’s embrace. My chest grew tight, and I struggled to take a breath.
“Hi,” he said quietly, his gaze roaming over my face, his eyes full of curiosity and concern. After the way I’d stomped away from him when he’d proposed, he probably hadn’t expected to see me drive up. He twisted in the seat. His eyes crinkled at the corners with his smile. “Hey there. You must be Laila.”
Her eyes narrowed, and her lips puffed out in a suspicious pout.
“Your mom told me about you,” Alder tried again. “Whatcha drinking?”
She hugged her cup to hide it from him.
“We like to go for drives,” I explained, taking over. Laila didn’t open up to strangers. “It mellows us out.” I rolled my eyes toward the back seat to tell him that only one of us needed to mellow out.
The corner of his mouth quirked.
“We drove past your parents’ old house.” I stared out the windshield. I couldn’t face him and have this talk. Memories threatened to push out of the tidy container I’d tucked them in. Real proposals and old heartbreaks could stay locked up. “Linda was showing the place to someone.”
“She said she had a potential renter.”
A shudder traveled down my spine. I squeezed my eyes shut. Was I really doing this?
Picturing that stranger inspecting the house I remembered so well cut the air supply off from my lungs. I squeezed my eyes shut. He’d asked the same question twice in my life. To be fair, the second time, he’d said we should get married. But I was giving him the same response for a completely different reason. “My answer is yes.”
I was met with silence, but when I snuck a peek at him, a wide smile stretched across his absurdly handsome face.