One in a Million (14 page)

“I
CAN'T BELIEVE
B
RIANNA'S
ten days old already,” Mellie Donovan whispered, smiling down at the baby in her carrier. Mellie was a couple of years younger than Daisy, raising a toddler, Lily, on her own. Sheila had introduced the two of them one day not long after Mellie started waiting tables at Maudie's Down Home Diner and they had become friends. They were sitting on the porch of Quinn's cabin in the big, old hickory rockers watching as Lily squatted in front of Brianna's carrier, inspecting the fascinating live doll baby that Daisy had produced from her big fat belly. It was early evening, warm and muggy with a hint of thunder in the air, typical Labor Day weekend weather in North Carolina.

“I can't believe how quickly the days have gone by,” Daisy marveled. She'd slept away most of the first few days she'd been at Quinn's cabin, surfacing only long enough to feed Brianna and then tumbling back down onto her bed or curling up on the couch to nap with her daughter cuddled in her arms.

Quinn had been true to his word. He hadn't allowed his mother and stepfather to even speak to her on the phone, let alone show up on his doorstep. But everyone else she knew had no problem getting past her vigilant host. She'd been visited by all her friends, and several of the Tuesday Tarts, the group of mostly NASCAR wives and mothers and team members—and even female drivers like Kelsey Kendall—
who met in a back room of Maudie's each week for food and fellowship—and good-natured gossip.

Someone had made the trip out from Mooresville every day, bearing gifts and hampers of food, “oohing” and “ahhing” over her daughter, and she suspected, checking to see if she was getting along okay with Brendan's formidable stepbrother. The answer was she was surprisingly comfortable living with a man she barely knew, something she hadn't expected would be the case.

Quinn would be pleased to see the thick slices of meat loaf, mashed potatoes, country gravy and homemade pecan pie from Maudie's Sheila had unloaded into the old-fashioned round-shouldered refrigerator in the kitchen. He knew his way around a can opener and microwave but he confessed that was about the extent of his cooking expertise. Happily he hadn't had to do much cooking. Even Juliana Grosso had made the journey from her home to their hilltop retreat bearing a savings bond to seed Brianna's college fund, and a casserole of her world famous lasagna. They'd just finished the last of it the evening before. Daisy had begun to despair of ever losing the extra five pounds she still needed to get rid of to get back into her favorite clothes.

Sheila stuck her head out the door and sucked in her breath. “It's too hot to eat out here. Let's have an indoor picnic instead,” she said in her customary take-charge tone. “Come inside, everything's ready.”

Daisy levered herself to her feet, using the arms of the rocker. She'd abandoned the crutches the day before in favor of an ankle brace and she was getting around pretty well in the house. She still let someone else carry Brianna, usually Quinn, but her elbow was healing even more quickly than her ankle, so she was no longer afraid it would give out on her and she would drop her daughter on her head.

“The mosquitoes are ferocious already and it's barely
noon,” Mellie complained. “We don't want Brianna bitten to pieces.”

“Don't like sqeeter bites,” Lily seconded, giving her arm a slap. Lily had curly brown hair and brown eyes, chubby cheeks and a heart-melting smile.

Inside Sheila had set out plates and napkins and dishes of made-from-scratch salads and fresh bread and fluffy key lime tartlets on the low pine table in front of the sofa. “Mmm,” Lily said, delighted that all the food was on her level. She plopped down on a throw pillow on the floor and rested her elbows on the table. “I'm hungry. Let's eat.”

“I agree.” Daisy laughed. Everything looked so good she could hardly wait to begin.

“There's a NASCAR retrospective on TV that I'd like to see,” Sheila explained. “Do you suppose Quinn will mind if I turn on that gigantic flat screen?” It was a measure of how off-balance Daisy had been when she arrived at the cabin that it had taken her several hours to notice the huge TV hidden in the shadows above the fireplace mantel.

“Of course he won't mind. The remote's on the table by your chair.”

Sheila studied the remote for a moment then pressed the power button. “I can't get used to having all these famous and almost famous people hanging around Maudie's. I need to bone-up on my racing history so I don't make a fool of myself—”

“Around Gil Sizemore, you mean?” Mellie interrupted, giving Daisy an exaggerated wink that she knew perfectly well Sheila would intercept.

“What's this?” Daisy asked, sitting down on the couch while Mellie deposited Brianna's carrier at her feet. “Gil Sizemore? The owner of Double S Racing?” She'd seen pictures of the handsome team owner on some of the glossy advertising copy Quinn had scattered around the cabin.

“He's becoming quite the regular at Maudie's these days.
He says it's the meat loaf sandwiches. He can't get enough of them.” Mellie dropped down cross-legged beside Lily, helping her to a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with the crust cut off the bread that Sheila had obviously made especially for the little girl. “Personally I don't think it's the meat loaf that keeps him coming back, but Sheila won't give him the time of day.”

“Gil isn't sitting at my front counter any more often than Bart Branch,” Sheila fired back, frowning down at her young friend. “Double S Racing's garage is barely a mile from the diner. Where else would he go to get a good home-cooked meal?”

“I'm sure that's the only reason either of those two ever step foot inside Maudie's,” Daisy said, feigning innocence as she reached for a slice of ham and a big scoop of potato salad. She just hoped Brianna stayed asleep for another fifteen minutes so she could enjoy her meal and the time with her friends catching up on the gossip from Maudie's and the Tarts. She'd suspected for some time that Mellie might be harboring more-than-just-friends feelings for Bart Branch, but it was news to her that Sheila might have the same kind of interest in Gil Sizemore.

She'd never met the man. He traveled in a lot higher circles than Daisy aspired to. He didn't frequent the all-male sanctuary of the back room at Cut 'N' Chat like some of the drivers and team members did. His haircuts probably cost what Daisy made in a day. He was rich and powerful, a dozen or so years older than Sheila and he could trace his family history back to the Mayflower or close, anyway.
A younger version of August Carlyle.
The comparison sent a shiver down her spine.

“Gil's a nice guy,” Mellie said decisively. “I approve of him.”

“Coming from you, that's a great recommendation.” Daisy didn't know a lot about what had happened in Mellie's life
before she came to Mooresville, but she had her suspicions it hadn't been an easy one. Her friend didn't trust people easily. Gil Sizemore certainly didn't seem like the type to appeal to the down-to-earth, hardworking Sheila but there was no accounting for the laws of attraction, and if Mellie approved of him, Daisy would stop worrying about Sheila's taste in men.

“Hey, look at the TV,” Sheila said, as much to change the subject as to call their attention to the NASCAR history unfolding on the giant screen above the fireplace. “There's Bart and his brother, Will, back when they were both driving in the Camping World Truck Series. Get a look at those haircuts. I swear Will's sporting a mullet!”

“No way.” Mellie giggled, swiveling her head toward the TV. “Millionaire playboys? Is that what the headline under the picture says? Is that true?”

“It's true or used to be, anyway. Their father was enormously rich but he embezzled a lot a money from his stockholders a couple of years ago and the family lost just about everything, including Bart and Will's car sponsorships. It was a really big deal. Especially when their dad up and disappeared like he did. Took the police, gosh, over a year to track him down,” Daisy informed the other two women.

“Who's that man with them?” Mellie asked. She wasn't paying attention to Lily smearing PB&J all over her fingers, or that her own fork was poised halfway to her mouth with a cherry tomato from the pasta salad speared on the end.

Daisy glanced up at the screen, narrowing her eyes a little to bring the grainy newspaper photo being displayed over the narrative into better focus. “That's him, their dad, Hilton Branch. He's in prison now and probably will be for the rest of his life.” The image faded into a more recent picture of Bart and Will trading high-fives after they finished 1-2 at Pocono back in June.

“Hilton Branch?”

“You look like you've seen a ghost,” Sheila said to Mellie as she reached over the table to wipe Lily's sticky fingers with a handful of paper napkins she'd brought from the kitchen.

Sheila was exaggerating about Mellie looking as if she'd seen a ghost, but her young friend was definitely upset about something. Was it the fact that Bart's father was a convicted felon? It would certainly be a shock for Daisy if she found that out about a guy she was interested in. “I'm sorry I just blurted it out that way, Mellie, about Bart's dad being in prison, I mean.”

“Don't apologize, Daisy.” Mellie's voice sounded strained. “Bart and I are just acquaintances from the diner. Why would he tell me any of this kind of embarrassing family stuff?” Mellie stabbed another tomato from her plate. Her hands were trembling. “Let's talk about something else, okay?”

Sheila and Daisy exchanged a puzzled look. Sheila lifted her shoulders in a shrug and did as Mellie asked. “With what's leftover here you'll have plenty to eat for the next few days. We'll take turns popping out to look in on you two over the weekend.”

“You don't have to do that,” Daisy protested, waving her hand palm out, like a traffic cop. “I'll be fine here with Quinn…and Brianna,” she added hastily. Goodness, why had she phrased it that way, putting Quinn ahead of her daughter?

Sheila gave her a considering look. “Oh, I assumed Quinn would be going to Atlanta for the race. He's probably got sponsor obligations. Atlanta's a big market for sports drinks.”

“I…we…he hasn't said anything about leaving.” Daisy knew her face was turning red. It hadn't occurred to her that Quinn was neglecting his business by staying out here for so long. It seemed he was always on the computer, or talking on his cell phone during the day. She had just assumed he
could conduct all his business that way. How silly and naive of her. “But even if he does go to Atlanta, Brianna and I will be just fine on our own. We've got everything we need and y'all are just a phone call away.”

“I want to go home,” Lily complained.

Mellie glanced at the cheap watch on her wrist. “Oh, dear, it is almost two. I can't believe we've been here so long. You must be worn-out.”

Daisy laughed, reluctant to see her friends go. “I'm fine. I had a quick nap before you got here. You learn to take them when you can get them when there's a baby in the house.”

“Don't I know it,” Mellie said. Her friend seemed to have regained her good humor. Daisy put the talk about the Branch scandal out of her mind and began piling up dirty dishes for Sheila to take into the kitchen.

She held Lily on her lap and listened to the three-year-old's nonstop prattle, thinking that someday Brianna would be this bright and chatty and that it would probably happen much sooner than she planned. Brianna woke up fussing just as Sheila and Mellie came back into the living room.

“She's hungry,” Lily announced, wiggling off Daisy's lap to run to Mellie. “Daisy says next time we come I can hold her.”

Brianna's cries grew louder.

“Stay sitting,” Sheila ordered. “I'll have a bottle ready in a jiffy.” She disappeared back into the kitchen.

“She's impatient when it's time to eat,” Daisy said, smiling down at her wide-awake daughter. “Every three hours like clockwork. I wish I could stretch it out to four but she just won't hear of it.”

“Maybe just a tiny bit of rice cereal mixed with her formula on the tip of a spoon,” Mellie suggested, lifting Brianna out of the carrier, giving her a hug and a kiss on top of her head before handing her to Daisy. “I know a lot of doctors
don't believe in solid foods this early but it worked wonders for Lily. She was such a fussy baby.”

“Maybe I will try it,” Daisy said. She'd call her mother after her friends left and get her recommendation, after all Lelah Brookshire had raised four children of her own and had watched over Daisy's niece and nephew, her divorced oldest brother's children, since they were babies, too.

“Babies are tougher than you think. If she doesn't like it she'll let you know soon enough,” Mellie said with a laugh. “C'mon, Lily, time to get you home and ready to go to Louise's.” Lily's babysitter, a wonderful woman who just happened to be the wife of the cook at Maudie's, had also agreed to watch over Brianna when Daisy went back to work at Cut 'N' Chat.

“Here we go,” Sheila said, returning with the bottle. She handed it to Daisy and moments later Brianna's cries were replaced with loud sucking noises.

“That's better.” Lily took her hands away from her ears. Everyone laughed.

“Let's go,” Mellie said, swinging Lily into her arms. Daisy remained seated. She would love to walk her friends to the car but she still didn't trust her footing in the rutted driveway and overgrown yard.

“Call us if there's anything at all you need—or want,” Sheila said in her usual forceful, I-won't-take-no-for-an-answer tone. “Anything at all.”

“I will,” Daisy promised, secretly pleased that she had friends who cared so much about her. “But, really, I'll be fine.”