Daisy's Choice (A Tale of Three Hearts) (28 page)

****

Daisy watched in horror as they both crashed through her glass door. She couldn’t scream or move. And the fighting didn’t stop. She found her legs only after Aiden flipped Pete over the balcony, rushing out to stop him, fearing the worst from the three-foot drop.

“
Aiden, Don’t! Stop!”

She hurried to the balcony’s edge to see Pete rolling on his side, winded. Aiden headed for the stairs to go after him, but she managed to get ahead. “What have you done? Get out of my house. Go,” she said, shoving Aiden back, gasping and wheezing through her panic. She was desperate to separate them and end the madness. He was hurt. She saw his shirt ripped at the arm. It was wet from blood. “Sweet merciful God, Aiden. You’re hurt.” She touched him, but he knocked her hand away and turned and walked back through the shattered doorframe. She ran down the steps to her outdoor deck and out into the sand. “Pete?”

“
Don’t touch me!” he said, holding his side, licking his split bloody lip. “Stay away from me.”

“
I’m sorry. I didn’t tell him to come here. He showed up. I didn’t mean for this all to happen, Pete... it went wrong.”

“
You’re a liar! Always have been, Daisy. You’re a liar and a whore,” Pete said through tears.

“
Don’t call me that,” she whispered. “That night things between me and Aiden got out of hand. I'd been drinking and they just did.”

“
Save it!” Pete said, unable to right himself in the sand. Stumbling back from her with the side of his face swelling, she could see from the favor he showed to his side that he was hurt. She reached again for him, but he stepped back again.

Daisy dropped her hand in defeat. She just stood there with her heels sinking in the sand, the ocean breeze blowing long strands into her face, which stuck to her wet cheeks. “When I found out I was pregnant, I couldn’t tell you. I’d hurt you so badly, Pete. I couldn’t face my family and not know who my child’s father was. I didn’t want my baby to grow up hearing what I’d done. I didn’t want to have to explain her conception. Don’t you understand what this did to me? It’s my fault.”

“
Damn right it is. And his! The two of you disgust me. Worse of all, that poor little girl shouldn’t be with either of you!”

****

“
Daddy?” Amy said from the top of the steps. Aiden crossed the living room wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth. He stopped and looked back. Amy stood there staring at him. He glanced at the crashed doors where Daisy was with Pete, then back to the stairs.

"Yes, Amy, I'm your father."

“
Where’s my mommy?” she asked.

Aiden took a step toward her and started climbing the stairs.

****

“
That’s it, Pete! That’s the entire story. You can hate me all you want, but I can’t change any of it.”

“
What about now? Can you change anything now? Like fucking a man you claim you hate!”

Daisy glared at him. “What is this really about? Amy? Or me?”

“
I don’t know what you mean?” Pete spat blood.

“
That fight? This anger? Be angry at me for not telling you, but stop trying to punish me for something we both agreed too.”

“
I never agreed to you sleeping with a man without protection! Bringing whatever the hell he has between us.”

“
Maybe not, but you walked out before you even knew that truth. So don’t expect me to atone for that too! What happened between us happened and it’s over.”

“
Is she my kid or not?”

“
I don’t know. And to tell you the truth, I don’t want to know. I don’t want either of you. This ends here. It ends now.”

“
The hell it does. You think I’m going to let you keep me from my daughter? Let you and that psychopath raise her? You got me wrong, Daisy. We’ll find out who she is, and—”

“
And what?” Daisy said, her breath caught, her eyes searching his face. Pete looked to her with disgust. “I want to see Amy, but I won’t scare her any further. You get rid of your boyfriend and call me when it’s time to meet.”

He walked off holding his side. Daisy stared at the ocean. She wiped at her eyes. Things were slipping fast. She’d lost complete control. There was no turning back and God help her, but she dreaded what would happen next.

Chapter Twelve

Come to my room...

Her little fingers hooked around two of his. She asked for her mother at first, but when he stood over her, she lifted her round clear eyes and decided on him. A child’s prerogative he supposed. The little boss took his hand, pulling him along. He had no choice but to follow. His earlier intent was to leave. He was dead set on it. After seeing that look in Daisy’s eye once more of disgust toward him, it had done him in. Besides, his left arm was cut pretty bad. His anger was still evident, and well Pete was lucky he didn’t meet him down there on the beach sands.

They walked along the hall, where he found a display of pictures. There was a breathtaking large black and white photo of Daisy in an exquisitely carved frame, her belly swollen and uncovered, a dark line down the center with a protruding navel. Her hands with nails delicately painted were pressed flat to it with fingers spread. The photographer didn’t capture all of her. The picture began at the swell of her breasts and the focus remained on the life she and he possibly created.

His eyes moved on to the next. Amy couldn’t be but days old, so tiny and wrinkled in her mother’s hands. Little Amy was in her birthday suit held up under soft lighting with her fist clenched tight at the sides of her face. The baby had a peaceful smile that tipped the corner of her tiny lips. She had a head filled with dark curly hair.

Others were of just Amy in the different stages of her growth; a toddler with wild curly hair––lightened by the sun and a round face with puffy cheeks pushed up high thanks to her bright smile. The photographer followed her around the day catching her in different acts of mischief in her room or about their home. Some Amy stopped and posed for. In others, she cried in the camera lens. And there were others where she looked on with wide-eyed innocence as if caught in mischief. He was captivated by it all. Amy was every bit her mother in beauty and spunk.

He wanted to stare longer and absorb the history he was excluded from, but his little guide was persistent in her tugging. She led him through the hall to an open door. Her hand fell away as she hurried inside. He stopped just under the threshold. Amy went to stand under the television mounted on the wall. He surveyed her universe. There was a little table and chairs with dolls and stuffed animals seated before plastic plates and cups. Pink pillows and sheets blanketed a small canopy bed with too many ruffles. Shelves were stacked, within her arms reach, with books and an overflowing toy chest. Most were scattered about the floor. The entire scene––kid’s play––unnerved him.

She looked back at him, a serious look to her face, her little brows furrowed in concentration. “Wanna watch my new movie mommy bought me, daddy?”

He didn’t have a chance to respond. Amy wasn’t really asking. She dug about a lower shelf through her movies, her flower panties up in the air.
Why is she walking around half dressed?
Aiden swallowed. He looked back to the hall, expecting Daisy to come shrieking for him to leave. She didn’t.

“
Barbie and the Prince. It’s Cinderella, my favorite.” She ran over to him waving the DVD case in her hand. “We can watch together, daddy. Put it in. I get the remote.”

Aiden accepted the movie. She was quite comfortable with calling him ‘daddy’. One meeting and she said it freely. Did she call all men daddy? Did Daisy allow other men around her? Was Pete called Daddy too?

“
Here you go.” She gave him the remote and pointed at her television.

When he didn’t move, mostly because he found it hard to, she looked back to him, curiously. Her chin turned up to him as if he were some mythical giant she found and brought home to add to her collection of toys. There was wonder in her eyes and a familiar need; the kind he had as a child once wanting to have his father’s attention. He was transfixed in that stare. He softened and nodded that he would obey her request. Aiden cleared his throat and tried to communicate with her, though he struggled with a simple reply. “I can start the movie for you,” he muttered. Figuring it would be okay, she seemed to know what she wanted. And he was right.

“
Yay!!” she said from behind him, pushing at his leg, and then running off to get a doll and drag her chair from the table set. He pressed the button on the remote. The door to the DVD partition opened. He dropped in the disc and cued it up. When he looked back, she was seated in a chair that seemed to be her favorite, forcing her doll to sit between her legs.

“
It’s Barbie,” she grinned.

Aiden nodded that he understood, then looked to the television set at an animation of a Barbie doll singing with forest animals. Amy hummed in her chair, running a comb through the knotty tangles of the doll’s hair. He glanced at the door once more and still no Daisy. His eyes narrowed as he conjured up images of her taking care of Pete; apologizing for breathing the same air as him, and begging for forgiveness from a man he didn’t think deserved her.

Amy got up from her chair and went to him, taking his hand. “Sit down. This the best part.”

Stiffly, he moved. His side and arm felt as if his skin was peeled away. Hot searing pain rippled through wounds he hadn’t discovered. He ignored the pain, taking a seat on her tiny mattress, a toy squeaking beneath him. A pink squeaky thing with purple hair. He tossed it aside and frowned. Amy stared at him as in disbelief. He wondered if the act offended her.

“
You got a boo-boo,” she said pointing to the blood on his dark sleeve.

“
I’m fine,” he said, his voice gruff and his discomfort mounting. The kid made him nervous.

“
Tell mommy. She’ll give you a Band-Aid and a popsicle,” she said and returned to her chair. Aiden chuckled. Little Amy managed to do the impossible. She made him smile. “I’ll do that kid.”

She sat back in her chair grinning while combing her doll’s hair. He stared up at the screen in time to see Barbie’s Prince singing about a chance to meet her; how he longed to be loved by her. Aiden thought it strange that they gave little girls movies about being rescued by a prince and dolls to play with to be mothers, but when men like him wanted to do the saving, the rescuing, the owning, it was a bad thing.

He stared at Amy and something in him shifted, the darkness stirred, and his chest tightened. The faces of women he loathed and abused many times over replayed in his subconscious. They all were someone’s daughter,
someone’s Amy
. He’d done some pretty shitty things in his life; he imagined he’d do some even worse things if another Aiden Keane ever showed up one day to take Amy away. What would Daisy’s father have thought of him? He didn’t like this retrospective thing overcoming him. He never wanted children, because he feared the unknown, and he feared his own failure. But she was here. And now he had new fears. He turned away, not able to name them all.

“
You like this movie, daddy?” Amy said, turning in her chair and smiling.

“
Right. Looks, um, interesting.” Aiden nodded. He sighed unsure of what else to say to her but he tried, enjoying the way she called him daddy. “What else? Tell me what else do you like?”

“
Things,” she said, continuing to comb her doll’s hair.

“
Your doll?”

“
Mmhmm.” she said mocking him in tone and pitch. Aiden stifled the chuckle tickling the back of his throat. He struggled with what came next. Then she turned on him again, her green eyes now a shade toward hazel. They dazzled as they focused on him. “Wanna know a secret? Can’t tell mommy. She gets mad.” She got out of the chair and came back to him. Stopping just a foot away.

Aiden’s brows drew together in a concentrated line. He reached for her hand and pulled her closer. “You have a secret?” The way she said it hit him hard like a stab of déjà vu. Daisy sat next to him on the plane and wanted to share with him her secret once. Regrettably, it was a secret he just threw back in her face. “Tell me your secret.”

“
It’s my treasure. Like Barbie.”

He looked up to the screen to see Barbie peeking at a treasure chest and once again singing about it. Funny, he didn’t remember
treasure
being part of Cinderella. “Okay.”

“
I’ll show you!” she hurried off over to the other side of the room. He watched her curiously. She got down on her knees, shaking something that sounded like change. Then she ran back over to him, her little chest working hard on breathing because she was so pumped up. “See!” she said, turning her palm over. “My secret money. Mommy says not to play with it. It’s pretty.”