Willow Smoke (88 page)

“Maybe it’s family that
we’re
remembering
more
than
the
circumstances,”
Daisy
offered.

“Maybe
you’re
right.
So
when
will
you
say
yes?”

Daisy
smiled
broadly.
“Thelma,
you
sure
are
persistent. I really don’t know what
I’m
going to do. Nick and I seem so
different.
And we seem so right. And I can’t
really
leave
my
world
behind,
even
if
I
wanted
to.
I
still
have
a
sister
and
a
brother-in-law.”

“Ah
yes,
I’ve
heard
what
that
lowlife
tried
to
do
to
you
in
the
hospital,
of
all
places,
while
your
sister
was
just
hanging
on.”

Daisy
shrugged.
“We
can’t
pick
our
relatives.”

“No,
but
we
can
pick
husbands.”
Thelma
puffed
out
her
cheeks.
“One
thing
for
certain,
you
and
Nick
will
have
some
tall
children.
You
might
have
your
own
basketball
franchise.”

“How
can
you
say
that?”
Daisy
turned
away
from
Thelma
and
picked
up
a
pencil
and started
crossing off things from her to do list. “Like I said, I don’t even know that I
want to have children.”

Thelma
stood.
“Well,
maybe
you
ought
to
think
a
little
more
about
Nick.
You’ve
got
a
lot
of
time
to
think
about
being
a
mother,
but
he
doesn’t
have
nearly
as
much
time to think about being a father.

“Cripes,
if
you
had
a
baby
next
year,
Nick
would
be
sixty-two
when
the
kid
graduated
from
high
school.”
Thelma
rose. “Thanks
for
the
coffee,
Daisy.
Keep
me
posted
on
Blue.
And
think
about
what
I’ve
said.
You’ve
got
the
world
opening
up
before
you
like
a
beautiful
i
ris,
but
a
flower
wilts if it isn’t properly
nurtured.”

Daisy didn’t trust
herself to look at
Thelma.
She
nodded,
keeping
her
glassy
eyes
fixed
on
her
work
schedule.

“Kids,”
she
snorted.
Why
was
everyone
insisting
on
making
things
more
difficult
for
her?
She
knew
she
was
in
love.
She
didn’t
need
anyone
to
explain
that
to
her
anymore.
But
she
needed
time
to
figure
out
what
to
do
about
it.
She
needed
time
to
handle
Reggie.

She
doodled
on
a
piece
of
paper:
circles,
squares
and
hearts.
She
toyed
with
making
box-like
letters.
Daisy.
Nick. Underwood.
Daisy
Underwood.
She
gawked
at the words. Her breath stuck somewhere
in her throat.

Daisy
leaned
over
the
desk
and
rubbed
a
finger
over
the
letters.
The
name
looked
good.
It
looked
right.
Could
she
become
Mrs.
Nick
Underwood?

God,
how
old
that
sounded.
No,
she’d
be
Daisy
Underwood.
Maybe
Mrs.
Daisy
Underwood in some settings. But Mrs.
Nick
Underwood
would
be
far
too
formal
and
stultifying.
What
had
he
called
her
while
they
were
in
the
Boundary
Waters?
Willow.
From
the
beginning,
he’d
thought
of
her
as
Willow.
She
chuckled.
Had
Mr.
Underwood
been
searching
for
his
own
Diamond
Willow
when
he
stumbled
across
her
in
the
barn?

Daisy
blinked
and
Thelma’s
words
came
back
to
her.
Children.
She
hadn’t
really
fantasized
about
having
children
with
Nick.
Maybe
that
was
a
fantasy
beyond
fantasy.
But
was
Thelma
right?

Nick’s
time
clock
was
ticking
much
faster
than
her
own.
Did
he
even
want
children?
They’d
never
discussed
children.
Of
course,
she
wasn’t
even
willing
to
talk
about
marriage,
so
how
could
they
talk
about
children?

What
a
mess.
This
brand
new
world
everyone
seemed
to
think
was
open
to
her
didn’t
come
without
its
costs.
And
she
wasn’t even
sure
that
all
the
price
tags
were
clearly
posted.
Time.
She
needed
time
to
decide
what
to
do
about
Nick,
about
Reggie,
about
herself.
Daisy
shivered,
aware that
she
wasn’t
totally
in
control
of
that time clock
either.

Later that afternoon,
Daisy stepped out of
Nick’s
shower
and
heard
the
downstairs
doorbell
ring.
She
threw
on
a
robe
and
hurried
down
the
curved
stairway
so
Mrs.
B’s
nap
wouldn’t
be
disturbed.
She
opened
the
door
a
crack
and
it
was
shoved
in
her
face.
She
stifled
a
scream.
Reggie
stood
before
her
with
a
cocky
grin
on
his
lips.

“Didn’t
think
I’d
find
you
here,
bitch?
When
are
you
gonna
learn?
I’m
not
stupid,
like
that
sister of yours.”

“What
do
you
want?”
Daisy
folded
her
arms
tight
across
her
abdomen
suddenly
wishing
that
the
doorbell
had
awakened
Mrs.
B.
The
old
woman
was
so
hard
of
hearing
she’d
probably
never
flinched.

Reggie’s
eyes
scrolled
up
and
down
her
body.
She
glanced
down
and
saw
her
bare
feet
poking
out
beneath
the
robe.
At
least
the
robe
was
thick,
but
she
was
still
presenting
him
with
much
more
of
a
show
than
she
wanted.
And
he
was
taking
every
advantage
of
it
he
could.
He
stepped
through
the
doorway
and
closed
the
door
behind
him.
Daisy
stepped
back
into
the
foyer
glancing
furtively
over
her
shoulder.
No
Mrs.
B.
When
would
the woman
get
up
to
begin
preparing
supper?