Trouble (15 page)

I am so glad that I’m not on the other end of that barrel this time.

“Drop your weapons and put your hands in the air!” He yells, sweat on his brow. I shove Carl down the steps and watch in horror as three more officers crowd into the front waiting room. There’s some loud crashing, and a commotion at the back door. I watch them haul two figures out from the back, and then the anxiety that threatens to take over me dissipates when I see another officer dragging a man out from behind the building.

“Caleb,” Carl starts. I put up my hand to stop his words and lead him over to an ambulance at the end of the street. He climbs inside gratefully, and he tries to get me to go with him.

“I can’t, Carl, Daisy’s at my parent’s.” His eyes go wide and he doesn’t have to even tell me once. I had better get home to her. I can just hear Carl telling me to make sure that nothing has been implanted into her brain, and smile.

I pull the wire out from under my shirt and hand it over to Captain Greenfield.
He yells after me that he’s going to need a statement later, and he’s also going to need me to testify in court. I ignore him and get into my Mustang. I have a woman to talk to, one that I cannot live without.

No one is out on the porch when I pull up to my parent’s house exactly an hour and a half later. I’ve broken over fifteen traffic laws getting back to this woman. I sincerely hope she appreciates that. But the best part is, the money in that duffle bag was not my own. I did not pay a dime to have her by my side, and when I do, I plan to have something very beautiful to put on her finger for the amount.

My cellphone is on the floor of the passenger side of my vehicle, and I don’t see the fourteen missed calls on the screen. Instead, I leave the car door open as I jog up the walkway to the porch steps. Just as I’m about to open up the door, my mother opens it for me. She steps aside out of my way and shouts something at me as I make my way up the stairs to my childhood bedroom. I don’t hear what she says.

When I fling open the door, my heart sinks down into Hell itself. She’s not here. I turn around to find my mother standing in front of me with one of her hands up to stop me.

“Where?”
I ask her, gripping her shoulders. I’m not gripping them hard, but I need something to ground me before I start screaming out her name.

“She’s in the back yard with your Dad. They’re trying to put
together one of his picnic tables.” As she finishes her sentence, I lean down and kiss my mother on her forehead, and then her cheek. I rest my own against hers and take a moment to calm myself.

“I love you, Mom.” I tell her quietly, and then I take the steps two at a time down to the first level. My footfalls are heavy as I make my way to the back of the house, but I pause at the doorway when I come upon the scene in front of me.

My father is handing Daisy a screwdriver. She’s still wearing my shirt, her hair is still up in a bun, and her jeans are dirty as she kneels down in the grass to put the bolt into the bench of the picnic table. The sun is catching her hair in the perfect way, illuminating is so that it looks like it’s on fire. My sister is on the other side of the bench, screwing in her own bolt. I lean against the doorframe leading to the back porch and cross my arms over my chest.

I don’t want to ruin this. The way she is laughing with them, and the way that they are looking at her screams family. I want so bad to be a part of this family.
Daisy chooses that moment to look up at the door, as if she finally senses me there. Her smile falters, and I feel guilty that I’ve put that look of pain on her face. My sister follows her gaze, and as soon as she sees me she leaps to her feet. It’s my sister who reaches me first and flings her arms around my waist.

Daisy stands up slowly. She lets the screwdriver slip from her fingers as she starts to walk towards me. It’s cold enough outside to have goose bumps rising on her arms. I peel my sister off me when Daisy gets close enough.

“We need to talk,” the both of us say at the same time. Neither one of us smile at the fact that we’ve spoken the same sentiment. Jessie grabs onto my arm as I turn to walk into the house. She smiles at me tentatively, and I ruffle her hair before I follow Daisy into the kitchen.

“Do you want to go for a ride?” I ask her, feeling my throat starting to close up.

“No, we can talk here.” There is no emotion in her voice. That frightens more than what happened to me today. I sit down in one of the chairs at the kitchen table and rest my forehead on my fist.

“Daisy, what I did earlier was wrong.” I’m not sure that I believe the words, and apparently she doesn’t. She sits down across from me with a frown on her face.

“What happened, Caleb? Did you give them your life savings, did you
buy
me?” She sounds upset, hurt, devastated. I let my fingers uncurl and run them through my hair before I look up at her.

“No, Daisy. I didn’t buy you.” I decide to go with being blunt.
A sigh of relief parts her lips, and she finally gives me a small smile. But it falters when I don’t return it. “I had him arrested and imprisoned. There’s going to be a trial eventually. I’ll have to testify. But Daisy,” I reach across the table and put my fingers on her chin to raise her gaze to mine. She looks afraid. “If I had to pay that bastard my entire life’s savings to keep you safe, I would have. You’re worth more to me than all the money in the world.” It takes a few seconds, but the tears begin to shimmer in her eyes.

“I’m glad you’re safe, and Carl?” Daisy tries to hide the emotions she’s feeling by asking about my boss instead.

“Carl’s fine, a broken nose and a split lip. It’s not the worst I’ve ever seen him.” I smile at her and let my finger drop away from her chin. “Daisy, if you don’t want to be here, then you can leave anytime you like. I’m not holding you hostage. You’re not my property. In fact, if you think of yourself that way then I’d prefer it if you left.” Her eyes go wide at my words, and I stand up leave. Suddenly I’m angry that she would think I’d pay to keep her as if she were a piece of jewelry or a car.

“Caleb!”
The way she says my name has me stopping in the doorway to the back porch. I need some air.

“I love you Daisy.” I stare at my sister helping my father building his picnic table. It will sit underneath the trees that line the property, and this summer my mother will have a large feast on it. She’ll invite the neighbors and our extended family for Memorial Day, and she might even invite me this year. I want Daisy to sit at that picnic table with me, but only if she feels like she is on equal footing with me.

It’s a long time before I hear the scraping of her chair as she stands up. I don’t turn around to look at her. But when her arms encircle my waist and her cheek presses against my back without the helmet on, my shoulders relax. I see my father glance up at us, and then he quickly looks away. But before his face is turned from mine, I can see the smile on it.

“I love you, too, Caleb Jacobs.”

***

It’s been seven months since Big Man was imprisoned. I’ve moved out of my small apartment into an actual house, and Daisy insists upon painting the room deep blue. When I argued with her at the store,
she told me she wanted it that way because it reminded her of my dark blue eyes. How can a guy not look like a jerk when he says to that?

It’s a hot, summer day as we break out the fresh paint and start putting on the primer. When we get to the blue paint, I smear a little across her right cheek
, and then some across the left. It ends up being a paint fight that ruins the carpeting in the room, but I don’t care. I hated it anyway. I’ll buy some new hardwood flooring instead.

“Caleb, we’re going to be late for your mother’s dinner!” Daisy reminds me of that just as I’m about to pull her shirt over her head. She giggles as I push her towards the bathroom.

“What, you need a shower!” I tell her as I start to pull off her clothes in that room instead. The shower takes over an hour to take, and we end up being about half an hour later to my mother’s dinner. It’s just as I pictured it.

My old and new neighbors are there
, my extended family plays Volleyball off to one side, and the tables are heavy with food. I tense when I see Mr. And Mrs. Needle spooning potato salad onto their plates. Daisy doesn’t recognize them, because she’s never meant them. So she introduces herself to them with a sunny smile in her new dress, and I feel a pang of fear when they turn to look at me standing on my parent’s back porch.

Neither one of them smiles at me, and
I quickly turn away from them to find something in the house to busy myself with. As I’m pulling a beer out of the refrigerator, Mrs. Needles comes bustling through the doorway with an empty bowl. She sets it down in the sink without a word to me, and then her eyes begin got shimmer. I feel my throat start to close up as I watch her bottom lip trembling.

“Mrs. Needle,” I don’t need to say anymore. Just the sound of her name coming from my mouth has all the apologies in the world wrapped into it. She shakes her head at me, and to my utter shock she pulls me
down to her level into a rough hug. The tiny woman knocks the wind out of me!

“I’m sorry, Caleb, for the way that I acted. It was selfish of me
, and foolish. It wasn’t your fault, baby.” I didn’t know that I was waiting to hear those words from her since the accident. For the second time since Ronnie’s death, I’m able to cry. It’s not the gut wrenching sobs from before, but they have the same meaning. The guilt I’ve been carrying around for the past eight months begins to fade away.

“Caleb, oh!”
Daisy starts to back out the doorway, but I pull away from Mrs. Needle and catch her around the waist. I bury my face into her neck and inhale sharply to get the tears to subside. I don’t need to embarrass myself in front of everyone here.

“Why don’t you
come sit with us, Caleb?” Mrs. Needle dangles the invitation as she blows her nose and wipes away her own tears. Daisy looks a little confused, that is, until I make my decline.

“No, Mrs. Needle, I have something special planned and would like to sit with my family.”
Daisy’s eyes widen when she hears the name Needle, and understanding dawns on her face. I bunch my hand in the fabric of her sundress, the pretty blue polka dots remind me of the paint smeared across her face, down her chest, and across her legs earlier.

“What do you have planned?” Daisy asks with suspicion.

“Nothing, jeez you’re nosy!” To emphasize my meaning, I touch the tip of her nose with my forefinger. Then I lead her outside before she can ask any more questions, and sit down with my family at the picnic table. The real meal is about to begin, and I’m growing nervous. My father gives me a knowing glance, and sweat pops out on my palms. I can only pray that Daisy doesn’t notice.

My mother stands up first and gently taps a knife against her glass. It rings loud and true, and the entire gathering of friends and family quiets down enough that she can speak over them.

“I would like to thank you all for coming out on this beautiful, summer day to celebrate the fourth of July with us! Tom worked all year on these picnic benches, let’s hope they hold up until after dessert!” There are a few chuckles, and my mother sits down. She straightens her dress, and then she gives me a knowing glance.

I’m frozen in my seat. The tiny ring in my jeans pocket is burning a hole through the cloth, and it’s soon going to start searing my flesh. Then Daisy turns her bright smile on me as she tries to pass me some homemade coleslaw. I take the bowl from her and gently place it on the table. When I finally look up into her curious eyes, everything seems to click into place for me.

I can see us getting married. I’m not sure where it will be, that will be her decision. But I can see her in a white dress with her hair up in ringlets. Then when it’s proper, we’ll stop using birth control and maybe we’ll get lucky and have a few kids running around that house I just bought for us. As we age, perhaps Daisy will want to host the Fourth of July picnic at our house instead of my parent’s. I’ll save the rocking chairs on my parent’s back porch, and one day we’ll sit in them old and gray. We’ll look at each other, and we’ll tell each other how much we love the other.

I want that life with Daisy. I want it more than I want to breathe right now, which I have forgotten how it seems.
Before I know it, I’m getting down on one knee beside her as she twists in the bench to stare at me. I fiddle with the ring in my pocket for a split second, watching the reaction on her face. I want to make sure that there is no fear there, just excitement.

The sunlight is dancing across her face
, her hair is twisting in a breeze, and her lips are parting as she begins to realize what I’m doing. I smile at her, the smile that I reserve for her alone. Then I pull the little silver ring out of my pocket and look down at it.

“Daisy,” I begin, and the talking near us
ceases. A hush falls over the entire horde as people being to realize what I’m doing.

A few of my neighbors look absolutely awestruck, but I’m not paying attention to that. I’ve been rehearsing this speech in my mind over and over again for about a month now. I knew when I came back to her seven months ago here at my parent’s house that I
would eventually propose to her. Now I’m struggling for what to say. So I dig down deep into the core of my heart where all the greatest and worst moments of my life reside, and I think about when I first meant her.

“That night you hopped onto my motorcycle, I thought I had lost my mind. Getting to know the real you inside was harder than trying to crack a coconut with my bare teeth. I have to admit, I wasn’t interested at first. But a small piece of me, the part that was able to move past losing Ronnie, recognized you for what you were. Without you, I could have never faced my demons. You’re everything that’s right in my life. Will you marry me, Daisy?”

There’s always a silence because the person has to inhale a breath to actually answer. But Daisy is just staring at me with her chest still, and her hands are gripping her knees as she looks at the tiny ring in my fingers. It feels like an eternity that we study each other. It’s long enough to have my mother fidgeting nervously, and my sister’s exuberant face falls into fear.

Daisy reaches out a hand to push a piece of my hair
back from my forehead, and I close my eyes at the feel of her cool fingers against my flesh. Her hand keeps moving through my hair to the back, until she’s finally touching the back of my neck. In the process of moving her hand, she’s leaned down to put her forehead to mine. We’re so close that I’m pretty sure no one else hears what she has to say next.