Chapter Twenty-Seven
DAISY WAS HAPPY TO BE back home in San Francisco. Los Angeles had been full of unexpected surprises, but it felt good to sink into something like normal again.
She and Jameson resumed their lives. He was back in the studio recording the band’s latest album, and she returned to the gallery.
He still came over regularly for dinner and stayed until Amelia went to sleep.
Daisy kept her distance, wary of repeating the intimacy they’d shared in LA.
There were still heated glances and soft touches, accidental, at least on her part, but she kept a careful lid on it.
She often pondered the question he’d asked in Los Angeles: What does this mean for us?
“Nothing,” she’d said. But the truth she’d wanted to give him was everything. Having him back meant everything.
But she couldn’t tell him that. Not now, maybe not ever. Every night, watching him leave to live a separate life stung, and yet she was still reluctant to trust him with her heart again.
And then there was Matt. Steady, good Matt—waiting in the wings for her to choose him, even while her heart carried the scars of Jameson’s betrayal. None of it was simple; none of it was safe.
Past feelings had her questioning everything, but the truth was she did love Matt, and she couldn’t keep this ride going forever.
She would have to choose. It pained her to listen to her daughter talk to him, knowing she owed him an answer.
He wanted forever, but Daisy didn’t know if she was capable of giving him that.
She waited for her heart to tell her what to do, but it had been over a month since they spoke and still… nothing.
She found herself comparing the two men—something a therapist, if she had one, would surely advise against.
Matt was safe; Jameson was wild.
Matt wanted to settle; Jameson lived on the road.
Amelia loved Matt; Amelia loved her father, too.
An impossible loop, playing daily in her mind. Daisy knew she’d have to get her act together sooner rather than later.
They drove up the long driveway to Jameson’s new house. He was officially a resident of Hillsborough in San Mateo County. Daisy still couldn’t believe the size of the place, and judging by her daughter’s wide-eyed expression, neither could she.
“It’s like a castle. Do you think my bedroom will be done?”
“Yes, sweetie. Jameson said it would be.”
When Daisy parked, she expected Amelia to bolt for the front door. Instead, Amelia lingered, sighing.
“Are you okay?” Daisy asked.
“I think so.”
“You think?”
Amelia sank into her seat. “I’m a little sad, I guess.”
Daisy laughed softly and tucked a strand of hair behind her daughter’s ear. “What’s there to be sad about? You’re about to see your awesome new room.”
“I’m excited for that,” Amelia said honestly. “But I’ll kind of miss my old one. And you.”
The words snagged in Daisy’s chest. “You do realize that you’re still going to live with me. Your old room isn’t going anywhere.”
Amelia’s mouth tipped into a sly smile. “You could always stay here when I’m with Daddy. He said there’s a room for you.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Why not? Then we could all be together… like a real family.”
And there it was. Daisy had often wondered whether Amelia longed for the tidy family picture so many of her friends had. She’d never asked—why rock the boat if there was nothing she could do? But there it was, in Amelia’s voice.
“That’s not going to happen,” Daisy said gently.
“But why not? Why can’t we just be normal? I think Daddy would like it. Even Matt wants us to be a family. But you don’t!”
Guilt rushed in. This was a lot for an eight-year-old. Daisy knew Amelia had sharp ears and even sharper intuition, but she hadn’t realized how much her daughter had pieced together.
“Don’t raise your voice at me.”
“I’m sorry,” Amelia whispered. “I just don’t understand. You deserve to be happy, Mom.”
So wise. Too wise.
“I love that you care so much,” Daisy said, cupping her cheek. “But that’s not your job. I’m happy because I have you. Okay?”
Amelia nodded and grinned.
“All right, sweet stuff. Ready to see the house?”
Amelia barely left her new bedroom all afternoon. Her LA room had nothing on this one. It was twice the size, with a little castle built into the corner, and a queen bed canopied in pink and purple tulle.
And then there was Gus. Jameson’s dog, finally with a yard of his own. Amelia was smitten within minutes.
Great, Daisy thought. Now she’ll never want to come back home.
While Amelia played, Daisy and Jameson sat on the back patio, fleece jackets pulled tight, hands wrapped around mugs of hot tea, looking out at the manicured lawn. A gentle breeze stirred the orange trees along the fence line, their scent mingling with the faint salt drifting in from the ocean.
“This place is incredible,” Daisy said. “You have a beautiful home.”
Jameson shook his head. “Not quite yet.”
Daisy scoffed, playful. “You have a massive pool, a tennis court, a dedicated croquet setup, and a whole Jacuzzi on your bedroom balcony. What else could you possibly need?”
“It’s a great place,” he conceded. “But right now it’s just a big, extravagant house. We—you, me, and Amelia—the memories we’ll make here… that’s what makes it a home.”
Cue butterflies.
Daisy blushed and looked over at him. “I’ve told you—”
“I know,” he murmured. “You already have a home.”
“… but,” she finished for him, “I can help make this one, too.”
His smile dimpled. They fell into an easy silence, one without strain. She noticed the way his thumb traced the rim of his mug, how his knee brushed hers beneath the table, unintentional, maybe, but electric all the same.
“And for the record,” he added after a beat, “there’s no more croquet.”
“Oh, shucks. I was really excited about that,” she teased. “What happened to it?”
His gaze drifted toward the back of the property, as if weighing his next words. “I want to show you something. Come with me.” He stood quickly, before he could lose his nerve.
“Come where?”
“Trust me. We’ll be right back.”
He headed across the lawn, disappearing past the pool to where the croquet lawn used to be. Daisy followed, trying to catch up.
“Jameson, wait up. I swear if you turned this into some—” Her voice cut off as she stopped beside him.
The clipped green expanse was gone. In its place: color. Rows and rows of it. A garden had been carved into the earth. It was soft and alive.
“Jameson,” she breathed. “You didn’t.”
He smiled, a little shy. “It’s supposed to resemble…”
“… my mother’s garden,” she finished.
Daisy stepped forward and the years fell away.
The air smelled of wet soil and spring. Bees hovered over lavender.
For a second, she could almost hear her mother’s voice, hands deep in the dirt beside her, planting tomato seeds, flowers, and herbs.
When she left for college, it was the last time she ever saw that garden, and her little studio that sat beside it.
She’d told Jameson a few weeks ago she wished she could see it once more, to stand there and breathe it in.
“Tulips, marigolds, lilies…” she murmured.
“And daisies,” he said gently. “Of course.”
She glanced up, smiling with her eyes. “You have every flower my mother planted. How did you remember?”
“I’m just that good.”
She squinted, unconvinced.
“Fine,” he admitted. “When I dropped Amelia at your parents’ a few weeks back, I asked your mom. She gave me the rundown.”
“Why’d you do it?” Her voice felt fragile.
“You loved that garden. And the studio… I just wanted to give you a piece of your home back,” he said. “Something here that’s yours.”
Daisy shouldn’t have been floored, but she was. He’d made his intentions clear, and now he was showing them. He wanted her to be his home, and he wanted this place to be hers.
Shoulder to shoulder, Daisy lifted a hand to his face. She brushed a gentle kiss against his cheek and whispered, “Thank you.”
Before he could reply, Amelia’s voice ricocheted across the lawn. “Mom! Dad!”
“We’re back here, sweetie!” Daisy called.
Amelia skidded to a stop, eyes wide at the riot of color. “It’s so pretty. It reminds me of Nani’s backyard, but… better.”
“It sure does,” Daisy said.
Amelia picked a single daisy and tucked it behind her mother’s ear. “Nani’s favorite,” she said proudly.
Daisy’s throat tightened. “She’d love that.”
“Can I pick some for her? We can bring them to her birthday dinner tomorrow.”
“That’s a great idea, honey. Go for it.”
As Amelia skipped off among the blooms, Jameson said softly, “Amelia’s birthday is coming up, too.”
“Sure is. I can’t believe I’m about to have a nine-year-old.”
“If it’s all right with you,” he ventured, “I’d like to be involved in her party.”
Daisy turned, surprised by the careful hope in his eyes. “That would be wonderful. Where were you thinking?”
“Here. It would be our first gathering in this house. It has everything we need, and I can have my event planner—”
“Whoa there,” Daisy laughed. “No party planners. I’ve always done her birthdays, and I want to keep it that way. It’s special to me.”
He nodded, not offended. “Of course. And feel free to put me to work. I want to help.”
Daisy chuckled and took in the expanse of the property.
“Uhh, you better!”
He joined in.
When their giggles faded, he asked, “So you’ve got your mom’s birthday this weekend, but what about next? Are you both free?”
“We should be.”
“Good, because I have some news.” His words came a little faster.
She arched her brow. “Hmm?”
“We’re doing a local show. Super last-minute, we want it low-key. I’d really like Amelia to see us perform. And you. If you’re up for it.”
Daisy bit her lip. Amelia would lose her mind seeing her dad in his element. As for Daisy… she hadn’t listened to TKC in years. She’d purged them from her life the moment she left the tour. The music had been a painful echo of everything she’d lost.
“Amelia would love it. I’m happy to bring her. Where are you playing?”
He grinned. “But where else?”
Bullets.