Chapter Five ♥
*
The old man driving didn’t look back at her when he spoke. Then again, he did it so often and so comfortably that Daphne was sure that he’d been a cab driver, before he moved over to Uber. He expected that people wanted someone to talk to, and he was good at it. Likable, too. He must have been good at his job. She wondered if the pay was good enough to justify the switch, or if there was something else behind it.
“Fifteen-twety-seven Millford, there’s the place,” he announced. His face, what she’d seen of it in the rear-view, looked like he’d smoked a pack a day since he was five. His voice, though, was silky-smooth.
Daphne looked up at the house. She looked at the cars in the drive. She counted them. Three. Too many for the driveway already. She didn’t have to go to this party. A promise was a promise, but she could at least delay it a while. “You’re sure we can’t do another lap around the block?”
“How good a tip were you planning on?” The guy looked back over his shoulder and grinned at her. If those were his natural teeth, then he’d never smoked a day in his life. Daphne sighed.
“Never mind, I shouldn’t avoid them any longer.” She looked at her phone, noticed that it didn’t have any texts from Major asking where she was. Maybe he was going to be polite about the whole thing. That only made her feel worse. “I’m already ten minutes late as it is.”
“Have it your way, girl.” He turned away from her, checked the rear-view in case it might have shifted on him. As if it could have. “I’m on all night.”
“Here you go,” she said, reaching past his shoulder with a folded twenty between her fingers. He took it and pocketed it as she slid out the back.
“And don’t forget to leave a review on the app,” he called after her. She leaned in to hear. “It should pop up in just a second, so you can’t really lose track of it.”
“Will do,” she said, still deciding whether or not she lied when she said it.
“Have a good night, enjoy that bottle.”
“I’m going to have to. Wish me luck.”
“Good luck.”
She let out a breath.
“Thanks.” She closed the door and started up the drive, muttering to herself the whole way. “I’ll need it. God, I look like some kind of strutting whore, or something. Is this how girls dress these days? It’s been so long since I put on a skirt, that it—”
Dane opened the door almost as soon as she was finished knocking. “You made it!”
Daphne hadn’t planned on making herself seem any more excited than she was, and she was dreading this dinner. So it was as much a surprise to her as to anyone when she felt herself smiling. “I made it! Here’s a bottle, I’m told it’s supposed to be the very best stuff.”
Dane stood in the door and filled it. He looked different, somehow. Five years will do that to anyone, but there was something about him that she couldn’t exactly place.
“It’s nice to see you again, after all these years.”
She was surprised, too, to hear the honesty in her voice when she answered “It’s nice to see you, too, Dane.”
She hadn’t planned on ever coming back here. Not on a visit. More than once she’d planned drives that needed to be routed around, but she’d stuck to it. Somehow Gabriel bringing her back had changed more than just her commitment to never returning. The sleepy little town seemed almost abuzz, changes around every corner, and she was feeling different, too.
“And look, you even remembered to take the price tag off!” He grinned at his own joke, looking at the bottle carefully.
“Most people remember to do that, Dane. The only person who has trouble with it is you.”
“I’ll try to keep that in mind next time,” he said. He suddenly seemed to realize that they were still standing in the doorway, and stepped back and gestured for her to follow. “Come on inside. Everyone’s waiting. It’s like a Hollywood premiere back there. I’m surprised we don’t have any professional cameramen to follow me around.”
“So you’re the master of ceremonies?”
It was unusual; he was usually more content to let other people take the lead. If he didn’t want to follow along with what everyone else was doing then he would just do his own thing. The notion that he would step in and take charge was a surprise. Another change that she hadn’t expected. What had happened to this place while she was gone?
“Unofficially,” he joked. The way that he played it off was just so much more… mature, than she was used to. “With Leo gone, and Major trying to show off, well… I guess it falls on me.”
“Is this your place?”
“Uh… kind of. For now, at least. It’s Major’s place, but I’m crashing. At some point pretty soon, I’m going to be moving up to Seattle with Bardot, and I already sold my place.” He shrugged. “But I still have stuff to take care of, so in the meantime, I need a place to stay while I finish up a few things. Maybe he’ll let you rent out my room when I’m gone.”
There was a tease in the last part, and Daphne was careful to ignore it. She wasn’t about to get dragged into this. At least, not before she had a few drinks in her, and had that disgustingly handsome man breathing down her neck.
“I’m not really planning on staying that long.”
Dane waggled his eyebrows. “Neither were Bardot and I. But hey, you know what they say. You never leave home again.”
“That’s not how the saying goes. And…” The past few sentences ran through her head again in slow-motion while she connected the dots. “Wait. ‘Bardot and I’? You two are an item now?”
“A mutual package. Inseparable.” He made a face, full of mock-solemnity.
“Except by several state lines,” she said.
“Only temporarily. And besides, what is space and time between friends?”
He winked, took her coat, and hung it on a peg above the stairs, along with several others. She felt naked without it, and she knew that it was because now she had a barrier in place that would keep her from skipping out, if only for a matter of seconds.
“Sure, Dane. You can try your charms on me if you want, but that doesn’t mean you’re out of showing me around, and I’m not exactly interested.”
He obliged her by walking back to the end of the hall. There was a kitchen, there, which was all she could see at first. Around the corner, though, was a dining table, and around the table were two women waiting for her, as well. Where Major was, she couldn’t have said.
“Oh, hey, welcome back,” Fable said. Daphne wasn’t sure which of them she was talking to until the harsh tone slipped in. “I was wondering how long you’d be gone.”
“Fable. Nice to see you again, too.”
She smiled, but she wasn’t pleased. She seemed to have stopped caring whether or not she could pretend not to be pissed, and just went all-in on it.
“Is it nice? Or, you know, is it inconvenient? Because I figure that if it was nice, you might have called or texted.”
“I’ve been busy,” Daphne said, making an apologetic face that she hoped would do something to smooth over whatever anger she’d managed to inspire.
“Sure,” she answered. This wasn’t a conversation that Daphne had planned on having, and she’d hoped that everyone else would have the good taste not to mention it either. But if she was going to have to endure it then she would take her licks like an adult.
“Well, we’re glad to have you back,” the smaller woman said.
“Bardot. Sweet-heart.” Daphne turned to face her, and the smile fixed on her face again. She’d always been close to Bardot, but then again, so was everyone. “You actually let this poor oaf take you out? You can do better.”
Daphne winked and elbowed Dane in the ribs. Bardot made a face of obviously mock anger, but she could have fooled anyone with the way she snapped.
“Don’t you wink at me. I’ve been waiting a long time for this.”
“I know. Trust me. We all knew.” Daphne gave Dane a pointed look. “Except for the one person who might have done something about it.”
“Harsh but fair,” Dane said, and then laughed.
Finally Daphne addressed the elephant in the room. “So where’s Major? Did he chicken out on me?”
“He’s out picking up some last-minute supplies, he should be here any minute,” Fable answered. She shrugged, and then gave a significant look at Daphne. “Then again, who knows how long someone can be gone, with no explanation but the open door.”
They had been close, once. The needling was almost painful. Then again, she supposed that it was hard to see anything in it other than hurt on Fable’s part. So she tried her best to let it be. It was a small price to pay.
Daphne tried to look hurt, but it didn’t fit on her face. So she looked defiant instead. “Fable, are we going to have a problem?”
“What problem? I’m only teasing you.” The dismissive tone in Fable’s voice didn’t suggest that all she was doing was light ribbing, but Daphne wasn’t about to give her the satisfaction of calling her out on it. A pause hung in the air long enough for Fable to know that Daphne didn’t intend to answer. “And besides, you came back, right? Even though you’re just passing through town, I’m sure.”
Anger flared up in Daphne’s belly, and the words slipped out before she could remind herself to keep her mouth shut. “So what if I am? What business is that of yours?”
“If you were gone you should have kept away,” Fable said, her lips pressed into a thin line of anger across her face.
She might have wanted to pretend that she was just having fun, but she was as angry as Daphne had ever seen anyone. Whatever had happened in the years since Daphne left, not all of it was as good as Dane finally settling down.
In the silence of the room, as the two women stared each other down, a car pulled up in front of the house. A car door closed, and then the front door opened. Major’s voice called out from the foyer. “I got the buns!”
Daphne’s voice was low and held hints of a threat that she didn’t intend to keep. At least, she didn’t think she intended to keep it.
“I didn’t want to come here, Fable. I wanted to keep living my private, quiet little life. If you have a problem with it, well, get in line. I’m here because Gabriel Knowles is here, and because he owes me child support to the tune of five hundred and seventy grand, and because I need the money.”
Major spoke again, and this time he was much closer than he’d been last time. Daphne felt his presence like a knife in her back, or like being whole again. She wasn’t sure which would have been worse.
“Am I interrupting something?”
Fable looked almost apologetic. “I was just… We were needling your ex a little, and she uh…”
Daphne’s defenses dropped, and with them went any will to fight. Or, for that matter, to do anything. She just wanted to be alone. She only screwed up her own life, that way.
“Look, I’m sorry. I should just go.”
“You have a kid, Daphne? With that rock star?”
Her hands twisted into a knot, but it was nothing compared to the knot in her belly. She pursed her lips and looked at the floor.
“I didn’t want to tell you, Major. I wasn’t even planning on seeing you guys. You never had to know I was here.”
She didn’t want to look up, but when his finger touched her chin, she didn’t fight him pulling her up to look him in the eyes. He didn’t look angry. She hoped that she was reading him right. “But we do know you’re here, and we did see you. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I didn’t want to have this conversation. Because I know that you’re misunderstanding me, right now.”
She felt vulnerable. It was a feeling she hated, one that she never wanted to feel again. But it seemed as if that was all she could be, now. Weak, vulnerable, and too stupid to know what was good for her. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes.
“Then help me understand.”
It was easier when she didn’t have to look at him. She could pretend that he wasn’t going to judge her. That he wasn’t already judging her. She would have judged herself, though; it was hard to blame him for it. She spoke, and the whole thing tumbled out.
“It wasn’t just some one-night thing. I met him before Idle Generation got big, and he was, well, charismatic. We dated a little, and then things… well, I guess that’s how it goes. Then it turned out that fame went right to his head, and where he’d previously been charmingly roguish, now he was a haughty son of a bitch.”
There was a long silence in the room. Fable, it seemed, didn’t have anything clever to add.
“And now you’ve got a baby?”
“She’s a year and a half old, now,” Daphne confirmed.
“Can I see a picture?”
The question startled her a little bit. It seemed as if all anyone ever said, never to her face, of course, was how sick they were of baby pictures. Men in particular. It had been a point of pride that she didn’t pull them out at every chance she got.
“I don’t want to bother you.”
“I asked. Do you have anything on your phone?”
Daphne pulled her phone out and unlocked it. Flicked through photos, clicked onto one in the middle. “Here you go.”
“She’s cute. Looks like her mother.”
She noticed the conjunction of cute and like her mother. She blushed a little bit. She was completely caught in his pace again, like she always was when Major was around. She needed to get herself on track. She needed to get herself free. Instead she joked with him.
“That’s only when she’s angry. Her mother’s given her plenty of practice with that.”
“No, she’s beautiful. Just like mama. Can we meet her? Did you bring her into town?”
Daphne’s eyes opened. They stung.
“No, I didn’t bring her into town. She’s with my mom.”
“That’s a shame.”
“I don’t need your pity, Major. I never did.”
The words came out sounding limp. They didn’t reach Major through whatever armor he’d built up for himself. Just hung there in the air.
“I didn’t give you any pity. You make messes just fine. Always have. I always liked that about you.”
Her eyes were wet, but she wasn’t going to cry. Not twice in three days. She’d cried enough. She’d always known what she left behind, and she’d made that decision years ago. There was no changing it now.
“I know you did. And I always hated it, because then you’d get this pitiful look on your face when it bit you in the ass.”
“I never did. You’re tough enough to deal with problems on your own.”
His expression didn’t waver. Like there was nobody else in the world. Daphne felt the same way. She hardened herself.
“I sure am. Which is why I don’t need any help now.”
“I’m sure you don’t. But if you want any, even if you don’t need it, don’t hesitate to let me know. I’ll come running.”
The words were sweet. She wanted to kiss him just for saying them. But that would have sent the wrong message. She didn’t need him. She didn’t need anyone. She just needed a fighting chance, and she was going to take that if it was the last thing she ever did.
Dane’s voice broke the trance that her reunion with Major had built: “That’s all real cute, guys, but if I leave these burgers on any longer they’re going to burn.”
Major looked past her, at the table, and then turned to Dane. “Then we’d better get eating. Daphne can tell us all her most embarrassing mama stories.”
“Oh, I don’t—”
Fable’s grin was positively devilish when she joined in, as Major pulled back the chair at the head of the table and sat down easily. “That won’t be a problem, right?”
Daphne bit her lip, then forced her nerves to settle down. It was hard enough as it was.
“Nope,” she said. “No problem.”