Read Online Daisy's Back in Town by Rachel Gibson - Free Book Online
Authors: Rachel Gibson
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Nova Super Sport. A four-on-four, too. None of that wussy three-speed crap. Why bother if you can't burn 'em off? It'll be fat." She didn't even pretend to know what he was talking about. He'd been born car crazy. No way around it. She figured it was in his DNA. Plus, chances were good that he'd been conceived in the back of a Chevy. Nathan had been doomed to be a gear head.
"What color?" she asked, not in the least concerned that he would ever actually drive a Nova 55 and burn 'em off. Nathan didn't have a job.
"Yellow with a black top."
"Like a bumblebee?"
There was a long pause before he said, "White with a black top."
They talked for a few more minutes about the weather and where he might want to go on vacation when she got back. He'd just seen a teen skin-flick and thought Fort Lauderdale would be good. Or Hawaii.
By the time she hung up the telephone, they'd pretty much decided on Disney World, although with Nathan that could change by the next time she talked to him. She squirted almond-scented lotion into her hands and rubbed it up her arms. A thin white strip of skin barely marked her left finger where her wedding ring had been for fifteen years. She'd slipped the two-carat solitaire into the inside breast pocket of Steven's burial suit. She thought it appropriate that it should rest above his heart.
As she rubbed the lotion into her hands, she glanced about the room where she was staying. It was her old bedroom, but nothing remained except the bed itself. Framed posters of windmills, the Alamo, and the River Walk in San Antonio hung on the walls, replacing her certificates from local photography contests she'd entered, her cheerleading plaques, and a poster of Rob Lowe she'd pinned up during his St. Elmo's Fire days.
She stood and moved to the closet and opened the door. The closet was empty except for a few old prom dresses, a pair of her old red cowboy boots with white heart inserts, and a big box with her name written across it in black. She scooted the box across the floor to the bed, then sat looking at it for several long moments. She knew what she would find in there. Bits and pieces of her life, the memories she'd long ago shoved in a box and taped shut. Earlier at the reception, she'd pushed the memories from her head, now here she sat staring at them.
Did she really want to look into her past?
No, not really.
She tore off the tape and opened the box.
A dried wrist corsage, her graduation tassel, and a few name tags that said HI MY NAME IS DAISY, sat on top. She couldn't recall why she'd kept the name tags, but she recognized the corsage. She touched the dry rosebuds that had once been pink and white but were now a faded yellow. She brought the dried corsage to her nose and breathed deep. It smelled of dust and of old memories. She set it next to her on her bed, then pulled out her baby blanket and christening gown. A heart-shaped box with the necklace her grandfather on her daddy's side had given her was next, followed by her school annuals. She reached for her tenth-grade yearbook and opened it. She flipped through the pages and paused on a group photograph of the teaching staff standing in front of the school. She'd taken the photo her first year of photography class, before she'd learned much about composition and lighting.
She turned to the pictures of her and Sylvia and the rest of the cheerleading squad. The picture had been taken of them in their gold-and-blue uniforms doing Herkie, toe-touch jumps, and handsprings. That was the year she'd cut her hair short like Princess Diana. While Diana had looked great, Daisy had looked like a boy in a short pleated skirt.
She flipped to her class picture and cringed. Her big smile was filled with braces, and she had raccoon eyes from all the makeup she'd spooned on her face.
She turned a few pages and her finger moved along the row of photos and stopped on Steven. She touched the smooth paper and smiled. He'd always been such a handsome
"What color?" she asked, not in the least concerned that he would ever actually drive a Nova 55 and burn 'em off. Nathan didn't have a job.
"Yellow with a black top."
"Like a bumblebee?"
There was a long pause before he said, "White with a black top."
They talked for a few more minutes about the weather and where he might want to go on vacation when she got back. He'd just seen a teen skin-flick and thought Fort Lauderdale would be good. Or Hawaii.
By the time she hung up the telephone, they'd pretty much decided on Disney World, although with Nathan that could change by the next time she talked to him. She squirted almond-scented lotion into her hands and rubbed it up her arms. A thin white strip of skin barely marked her left finger where her wedding ring had been for fifteen years. She'd slipped the two-carat solitaire into the inside breast pocket of Steven's burial suit. She thought it appropriate that it should rest above his heart.
As she rubbed the lotion into her hands, she glanced about the room where she was staying. It was her old bedroom, but nothing remained except the bed itself. Framed posters of windmills, the Alamo, and the River Walk in San Antonio hung on the walls, replacing her certificates from local photography contests she'd entered, her cheerleading plaques, and a poster of Rob Lowe she'd pinned up during his St. Elmo's Fire days.
She stood and moved to the closet and opened the door. The closet was empty except for a few old prom dresses, a pair of her old red cowboy boots with white heart inserts, and a big box with her name written across it in black. She scooted the box across the floor to the bed, then sat looking at it for several long moments. She knew what she would find in there. Bits and pieces of her life, the memories she'd long ago shoved in a box and taped shut. Earlier at the reception, she'd pushed the memories from her head, now here she sat staring at them.
Did she really want to look into her past?
No, not really.
She tore off the tape and opened the box.
A dried wrist corsage, her graduation tassel, and a few name tags that said HI MY NAME IS DAISY, sat on top. She couldn't recall why she'd kept the name tags, but she recognized the corsage. She touched the dry rosebuds that had once been pink and white but were now a faded yellow. She brought the dried corsage to her nose and breathed deep. It smelled of dust and of old memories. She set it next to her on her bed, then pulled out her baby blanket and christening gown. A heart-shaped box with the necklace her grandfather on her daddy's side had given her was next, followed by her school annuals. She reached for her tenth-grade yearbook and opened it. She flipped through the pages and paused on a group photograph of the teaching staff standing in front of the school. She'd taken the photo her first year of photography class, before she'd learned much about composition and lighting.
She turned to the pictures of her and Sylvia and the rest of the cheerleading squad. The picture had been taken of them in their gold-and-blue uniforms doing Herkie, toe-touch jumps, and handsprings. That was the year she'd cut her hair short like Princess Diana. While Diana had looked great, Daisy had looked like a boy in a short pleated skirt.
She flipped to her class picture and cringed. Her big smile was filled with braces, and she had raccoon eyes from all the makeup she'd spooned on her face.
She turned a few pages and her finger moved along the row of photos and stopped on Steven. She touched the smooth paper and smiled. He'd always been such a handsome
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