Page 110 of Book and Ladder
“Our crew is ready. Builds like this one can take up to ayear from groundbreaking to the ribbon-cutting. I think we can get this one down to seven months notwithstanding any complications. I’m hoping to open late spring at this rate.”
“That’s fast.”
“Patrick.”
“Yes, Dad?”
“I had expected that you’d be more involved in the process. I want you to learn the ropes. You’re not doing that while you’re busy sliding down poles and driving your truck around town.”
“We don’t have a pole. Our station is one story.” He’d know that if he ever came by.
“I meant it figuratively.”
An awkward silence stretches, one where my father’s magnetic pull tugs at every well-trained cell in my body. He’s the ruler of his empire. His plans aretheplans. Aligning with him brings blessings and approval. Loving books, becoming a firefighter, and hanging out with my nieces don’t exactly align with me walking into my place as the rightful heir to O’Connell Development. Anything short of my utmost submission to his vision will mean banishment from the kingdom. Maybe he won’t go as far as cutting me out of the family, but in every way that matters, I’ll be exiled.
“What day do you have open this week?” He finally asks. “I’d like to tour the property with the blueprints this week.”
I can give him that much. We schedule a time to meet. I’ll pass Moss and Maple. I won’t block her parking lot. And I most certainly won’t storm in to claim a kiss that I believed on some level we both needed and wanted. I want so much more. But I’m not a brute. I won’t steal what she isn’t freely giving.
Sometimes love means letting go because you respect the other person more than your own desires.
Love. Man, I’m in worse trouble than I thought.
I do love her. I’ve known Daisy my whole life. We’re not strangers. At one point, in what seems like another lifetime, we were genuine friends. And now that I know she’s also M&M, I feel like I’ve had access to another facet of the dynamic woman I already admire and long for. Maybe I’ve loved her for years. I don’t know when a switch flipped, but there’s no denying what’s being exposed in the light. I love Daisy Clark. And nothing matters more than what she means to me.
Daisy’s car is out front two days later when I arrive home from working another shift. She’s all I can think about these days. I wake with her on my mind. She’s my last thought. My preoccupation doesn’t bother me. If I can’t have her, at least I have my thoughts of her. I imagine what it would be like, convincing her of my true feelings, having her give me an opening—a chance. I’d spend every day proving how right we are together. We’d still challenge one another. But in my fantasies we share something else—something deeper and private.
I grab my keys. It’s a weekday. She should be at the shop.
Did something happen? Is she sick?
I’m the last person she’d want to see, but … what if she’s not okay?
I ascend the steps to our porch, going straight up the middle, torn as to which door to approach. At the last moment, I veer right and knock softly on her door.
“Daisy?” I say at a volume that’s lower than a shout but still should reach her.
She deserves to know it’s me before opening the door. I’m tired of surprising her and having it devastate her.
What I see when she slowly pries open the door levels me. The sight of her red-rimmed eyes is a solid fist to the gut.
Her words land enough punch to put me down for the count.
“I hope you’re happy. Your family won.” There’s no bite. Only weary resignation.
“What are you talking about, exactly?”
We both know Home Mart is moving in. These are fresh tears.What did my dad do?
“Moss and Maple.” She avoids my gaze, running her sleeve under her nose and then looking at it with disgust. She lifts her head and squints at me. “I’m going to have to close the doors.”
“What?”
She just stares at me, an expression of disdain mingled with a pleading only someone who knows her well would discern.
“Seeing you sad doesn’t make me happy, Daisy. Not even a little. I never wanted Moss and Maple to close. And my dad just told me the building won’t even be finished til spring. Possibly later.” I search her face for any hope my words may have given her. “Even then, you don’t know if you’ll have to close. There might be a way to coexist.”
She shakes her head, lowering it so I lose sight of her eyes.
