Then he’d taken me home and again opened my door when we’d arrived. He’d walked me to the steps of my parents’ house, not touching me, and that’s where I was left.
He gave me a short impersonal nod, stuffed his hands in his pockets, and said politely, “I’ll see you around, Jess.”
Between the hot ache in my chest, the ballooning lump in my throat, and the stinging tears in my eyes, I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. I just stood there and watched him leave, drive away, feeling sick and sad and stupid.
And now, as I pulled my bike into the parking lot of Daisy’s Nut House to meet my cousin Tina for dinner, I was still deep in my funk.
Tina had called me the Monday after my disastrous Friday picnic with Duane. In fact, she’d called just as Claire and I were dropping off Duane’s Mustang to the Winston house. We did it right after work, when I was fairly sure he’d still be at the auto shop, locking the car and slipping the keys into the mail slot of the house.
He hadn’t asked me to return it, and I knew he never would. But there was no way I could keep the car. First of all, every time I looked at the thing I felt like crying. Secondly, like Duane, it wasn’t mine to keep. It never had been.
As we pulled away from the house, Tina called my cell and said she wanted to get together. I was…surprised. I’d chalked her overtures the week before up to odd politeness. But now she was calling me, inviting me out.
At first she’d suggested beer and pool at the Dragon Biker Bar. I’d told her she was crazy.
In fact I’d said, “You’re crazy.”
She’d laughed. “What? Haven’t you ever been curious about going? Meeting some of the guys? They’re hot and they’d show us a real good time.”
I’d shaken my head, which she couldn’t see, and had repeated, “You’re crazy.”
I was curious about the Dragon Biker Bar and the Iron Order guys like I was curious about going to jail for life.
So…not.
As the Sheriff’s daughter, I heard all sorts of cautionary tales about the local biker club. And, granted, if these cautionary tales hadn’t included allegations of drug trafficking, prostitution, arson, and bouts of random violence, then I might have been a tad more curious.
Regardless, knowing what I did, the Iron Order bikers didn’t do a thing for me, except make me want to lock my doors, use the buddy system, take self-defense classes, and buy a German Shepherd.
When I wouldn’t budge and refused to indulge her initial idea, she relented and agreed to my alternate suggestion of dinner at Daisy’s Nut House. This suited me since I didn’t have a car and the diner was within walking distance of my parents’ house.
Instead of walking, I opted to pedal my mom’s old Swinger Stingray bicycle and arrived a full ten minutes earlier than the agreed upon 6:30 p.m. I locked my bike up outside and meandered into the diner, happy and surprised to see Daisy behind the counter.
She waved me over as I entered and her dark brown eyes darted between me and the sugar containers she was filling.
“Hey. I’m not used to seeing you on school nights. How’s your momma’s sister? I haven’t heard anything all week.”
She wasn’t in the Nut House uniform, but rather looked like she’d just left a business meeting. Her brown skin was tinted with pink blush and her lips were bright red. As well, she’d restyled her hair since I’d last seen her. It resembled Michelle Obama’s trendy straight bob.
These days Daisy ran the business side of things rather than the diner itself. Daisy’s doughnuts had expanded over the last few years and were now carried by most grocery stores in the southeast.
I claimed a stool at the counter and helped her fill the glass containers. This was an old habit from when I worked at the Nut House and Daisy used to be my boss.
I loved Daisy. First of all, she was my momma’s best friend. She, her husband Trevor, and their three kids felt more like family than some of my blood relations. Also, she was smart and funny and sassy, had been a great boss, had taught me everything I knew about fashion, and lastly, she’d taught me her secret recipe for making her homemade doughnuts.
“Last I heard, Aunt Louisa needs dialysis. The chemo is working, but it’s messing with her kidneys.”
Daisy made a face. “That doesn’t sound good. You spent the summers with your aunt during college, right?”
“Yes. I was her personal assistant during the school year as well, but I worked remotely during the fall and spring, and lived at her house during the summers.”
“Her personal assistant? I didn’t know that.”
“Yeah. She’s a big socialite in Houston now she’s retired.”
“What did she do before she retired?”
“She was a petroleum engineer, invented something important that lowers the environmental impact of drilling. I never knew the details. But she never married and has no kids, so she takes on a lot of charity work and special projects. Plus her house requires a lot of maintenance. It’s a huge sprawling mansion with stables and horses.”
“Yes. Your momma said something about her sister having more money than the sea has shells. Have you thought about going out there?”
“I thought about taking a visit…but, honestly? I don’t think my aunt likes me much.”
Daisy tsked, shook her head. “That can’t be true.”
“When I worked for her, when I stayed with her during the summers, she had me in the employee wing and she never ate meals with me. She didn’t talk to me unless it was work related, and when she introduced me to people—and only when she had to—I was her personal assistant, Miss James. She didn’t want her friends to know we were related. I’m not sore about it, but I think I must’ve embarrassed her.”
“I can’t see how that’s possible. You should go visit. If not for your aunt, then for your momma. I hate to think of her lonely over Thanksgiving. Why doesn’t Louisa hire a nurse?”
“She has. She has two fulltime nurses and a physician.”
“She hired herself a fulltime physician?”
“Yes. Momma is really just out there for moral support. But I’m sure she’d appreciate a call if you get a chance.”
“I’ll call tonight.” Daisy nodded and moved to fill another container.
“Is Daniella coming home for Thanksgiving?” I asked about Daisy’s oldest daughter, now a banker or something like that in New York City.
Daisy gave me a wide smile. “She is. Simone will be home too. But Daniella will be home for both Thanksgiving and Christmas this year. I think she’s bringing a boy home with her, too.”
I grinned, wagged my eyebrows. “Really? A boy?”
“Yes. He works at her investment firm and, the way she tells it, they were flirting over hedge funds and gold futures for six months before he worked up the courage to ask her out.”
This made me chuckle, because I could understand his hesitation. Daniella was ten or so years older than me and always struck me as fiercely focused. She was valedictorian of her graduating class and received a full academic scholarship to Princeton.
Plus she was crazy beautiful. I’d always admired her long black dreadlocks, warm tawny skin, and Nefertiti-like bone structure.
The sound of a rumbling motorcycle pulled my attention to the front window and I watched as Tina dismounted from behind a biker and handed him her helmet.
“Are you meeting Tina here?” Daisy asked, a hint of concern in her voice.
“Yes.” I nodded and hopped down from my stool. “She called me earlier this week, wanted to get together.”
Daisy seemed to hesitate for a moment, her eyes moving between the scene playing outside the window and me. Tina and the biker were kissing and if they hadn’t been in a parking lot, it looked like the kind of kissing that led to horizontal fun times.
“Don’t get hooked into your cousin’s drama,” Daisy said at last, leveling me with a penetrating glare. “She’s trouble, and she’s a user. If your momma were here she’d tell you the same thing.”
I grinned at Daisy and shook my head; her advice was good, but she wasn’t telling me anything I didn’t already know. “Okay. I won’t get hooked into her drama.”
“Good.” She nodded once, wiping her hands on a towel and splitting her attention between me and Daisy as the latter waved goodbye to her ride. “I’ll send Beverly out to take your orders.”
“Thanks, Daisy.”
“Mmm hmm,” she said noncommittally, like she didn’t want to be rude but refused to sanction my dinner with Tina.
I walked to the door just as Tina entered. As I waved, and was about to suggest we grab a booth, she surprised me by yanking me forward and into a big hug. I was usually two inches taller than my cousin, but not tonight. I noticed she was wearing a pair of shiny-red, spiked platform shoes. If I wore those shoes I’d fall on my ass before I could take a step. But she walked in them as though they were slippers.
As we hugged she squealed, like she was super happy to see me, and this made me smile. We’d been good friends growing up, at least I’d thought so at the time. I wondered if, over time, our high school years would prove to be merely a friendship-sabbatical.