25. Daisy
Daisy
I t’s dusk when we pull up to the DeMonte estate. I can barely see three feet in front of me as we get out of Lorde’s car, because the air smells like rain and a fog might be rolling in. Great. Set the mood even worse, why don’t you, Mother Nature?
The gravel crunches under the wheels of the car, the same one I’ve taken to proms, funerals, and boardroom meet-and-greets. But never for anything like this.
My hand clutches my wife’s. Her thumb moves slowly across my knuckles.
She’s pretending to be calm, but I know she’s not.
Hey, I might have only known her for a hot minute before we eloped, but I know this much about her.
She’s only calm when everything is going her way, like seducing me. Or my parents. No, not that way.
This is a bit different. This could end with us being kicked out of my childhood home forever. A thought that has me rethinking everything we’ve done the past two days.
What if I can’t come home again? What if I’m throwing away everything because my brain says I’m in love? Because the sex is too good? Because she’s hot? Because…
"Ready?" Lorde asks.
"Nope," I answer. "But let’s get this over with."
The front door swings open before we even knock. Rosa, the housekeeper, stands frozen in the doorway. Her eyes flick from me to Lorde, then to our clasped hands. Her face flushes with something that’s almost delightful before she catches herself and steps aside.
“Your parents are in the parlor,” she says.
Lorde smiles at her. “Thanks. What’s your name?”
“Ah… Rosa, Miss.”
I grin. “Rosa has been with the family for years. Since I was a kid.” This is the first exciting thing to hit since we’ve arrived. “She’s from Turin. A cousin of my mother’s friend.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Rosa. I’m Lorde.”
“Oh! I know who you are.” Rose motions for us to come inside. “You’re Camilla Sheen’s daughter. I’m… I’m a big fan of her movies.”
Her grin lures us inside. Lorde thanks Rosa for the compliment as she closes the door.
After another smile, she scuttles toward the kitchen.
I’m left alone in the foyer with Lorde, whose hand is still in mine.
My left hand in her right. We still don’t have any rings but the engagement ring she got for me, and I wear it now.
My parents are exactly where we were told, sitting in silence across from each other, flanked by two untouched glasses of wine. Mama reads a paperback novel. Daddy peruses his tablet, jaw set in stone and eyes pulsing from behind his reading glasses.
“Hi,” I say.
They both look up. Their eyes fall on Lorde first, then our hands. Then the ring.
“Daisy,” Mama says, uncurling her legs and setting her book aside. “You’re back. We didn’t hear from you…”
“I know. That was the point."
Daddy gets up. “Is there a reason you’re walking in here holding hands and wearing that ring? Because something tells me you’ve spent all last night thinking up ways you can get out of your family duties, Daisy.” He clears his throat when he looks at Lorde. “I know we discussed other things, but…”
I swallow. Lorde doesn’t flinch. Her posture is perfect. It makes her taller than I’m used to because she usually slouches in that ineffably careless way.
“There’s a reason we’re walking in here like this, Daddy.” I step out before Lorde, showing my father that I’m still his daughter, still his Principessa even if I’m grown and calling my shots with someone else. “We’re married. In Vegas. Last night.”
Silence.
Oh, boy. It’s not just silence. It’s a complete, utter shutdown. Mama’s wine glass slips slightly from her fingers but doesn’t spill. Daddy lowers himself back into his chair like the weight of what I said has shoved him in the chest.
“You did what?”
I relocate my voice after it attempts to retreat into my stomach. “We eloped.”
“You eloped ?” my mother repeats as if I told her I joined a cult.
“It wasn’t a whim,” I say. “We love each other.”
“And the Antonettis?” my father snaps. “Do you think they’ll see this as love ? Do you think Mr. Antonetti will call this a charming detour?”
“I don’t care what he calls it,” I fire back, hating how much recent events have made me yell at my own daddy. “This isn’t a business arrangement. It never was.”
“You threw away the deal,” he says, voice rising.
“Maybe the deal deserved to fail,” I retort. “You were so concerned about tradition that you forgot I’m a person, not a pawn.”
He leaps up again, fists clenched. “Do you have any idea what you’ve risked?”
“Yes,” Lorde says, jutting into our family feud. “She risked staying silent about who she is. I know that’s inconvenient for your portfolio, but it’s the truth.”
He fixates on her. “You think you’ve conducted your Hollywood revolution? That you’ve liberated her from us?”
“No,” Lorde says, her voice slightly cracking after Daddy says such a thing. “I think she liberated herself. I just held the door open.” Oh, dear. Here comes that puff of laughter after she’s impressed herself. Not now, Lorde! “Like a proper gentlelady.”
Mama rises, trembling as she takes a step forward toward me. “You didn’t even ask us. You didn’t invite us.” Her bottom lip quivers. “We were supposed to help you plan a wedding. We dreamed of that. Of giving you the celebration you deserve.”
I falter.
This part hurts more than I expected. Because under the status and image obsession, Mama did want me to be happy with someone that made me excited to get married.
We never prepared for the day I brought home a girl.
Even though there was a chance it could have been the boy of her dreams, could I have stood it?
Even if I loved him? Hiding that part of myself from my family? From my own mother?
“I didn’t think you’d support it,” I reply.
“Didn’t think?” she snaps. “You didn’t ask. ”
As Lorde attempts to keep my hand in hers, I break away, facing my mother.
“Because I was afraid you’d try to stop it.
You’d say something about how I was embarrassing you and that this wasn’t the kind of love worth honoring because it didn’t fit some perfect, traditional script you brought over from Italy! ”
Her eyes fill with tears, and she looks away. “You think so little of us. Of me.”
“No, Mama. I think so much of you that I had to take a Xanax to come in here to tell you because I knew it would probably end with all our hearts breaking!”
The air is heavy with everything we’ve been dancing around for years. Daddy quietly stares at his Italian loafers. Mama wipes her cheek and finally looks at Lorde – really looks at her.
“You love her?” she asks my wife.
Lorde nods. “More than I ever thought I could love anybody.”
“And you didn’t do this for publicity? For a laugh?”
“I don’t find anything funny about this,” Lorde says. “We did it because she’s the only one who has ever made me think I could be with one woman for the rest of my life. Trust me, she wasn’t exactly the one I thought it would be when we first met. You’ve raised a helluva spitfire, Mrs. DeMonte.”
The awkward silence expands. A clock ticks on the wall and the air conditioner kicks on in the corner of the parlor.
Daddy grunts. “The Antonettis are still in town. Mr. Antonetti is... not thrilled.”
“I’m sure he isn’t,” Lorde says.
Mama puffs out her cheek, the rouge on her skin making her look like an apple. “He expected an engagement announcement. Instead, he got a tabloid leak about a Vegas elopement.”
“Then let’s meet him,” Lorde says. “Let’s tell him what’s happening and why I’m the one who is perfect to represent the DeMonte family in the coming generations. Because, if you didn’t know, I still plan on taking her name and leaving the Sheen life behind me.”
They both gape at her. “Lorde—”
She interrupts me. “You’re my wife, right?
Sure, we got married a lot faster than we ever thought, but it’s the right thing for us to do.
Now the Antonettis can’t do a damn thing about it.
But they can save their asses by agreeing to meet with me.
” She turns to Daddy. “Just me. Let me handle it. If I can’t, if I blow everything up, then you won’t have to see me again.
Daisy and I will leave you to it and go live our own lives in Hollywood. ”
I gasp. “Lorde!”
“That won’t be necessary!” Mama interjects. “Look, feelings are quite high right now.” She glances at Daddy. “ Aren’t they, Marcello?”
He grunts again.
“Let’s have dinner. We’ll tell Rosa to set two extra plates. We’re going to talk about everything as rational adults. After all, they’re married! They can talk like rational adults!”
The fact that Mama is kinda freaking out right now while saying that is not lost on any of us.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen her get up in the middle of a fight and lay everything on the line.
“So, we’ll talk. About how things are going to be while we move forward.
As a family. Because I don’t know about the DeMontes, but in my family, we never threw anyone out for any reason!
You could have murdered a whole village and we’d foolishly protect your butt! ”
Mama said butt. I can’t take any of this seriously. But I don’t have a choice.
Dinner it is.