Blue Heart Blessed (12 page)

I
use the three blocks between Lorenzo’s Gelateria and Something Blue to have a little conversation with God.

I tell him that I’m not in the mood for a relationship with someone if he’s not going to bless it. So, if Daniel is not the man for me, I want God to make me brave and help me tell Daniel we’re not getting back together again.

Make me brave. Make me brave.

I come within view of Lorenzo’s glass-topped sidewalk tables and their red striped umbrellas. Daniel is seated at one. He sees me and stands. Smiles.

He looks great.

His sandy blonde hair is sun-streaked. He’s got on canvas shorts, sandals and a tropical camp shirt. I’ve outdressed him.

But he looks like he’s happy to see me, like he’s admiring the way I am walking toward him.

I command the butterflies in my stomach to curl up and die.

When I reach him, he leans forward, takes my hands in his and kisses me on the cheek just below my right ear lobe. I catch a whiff of
Acqua de Gio.
Intoxicating.

“Daisy, you look wonderful. Really.” He steps backs and motions toward the table. “Can I get you anything? Ice cream? Cappuccino?”

I’ve no appetite. None.

“No, thanks.”

We sit. I lean back in my chair and he sits forward in his.

“So how have you been?” He looks genuinely interested.

I give him the answer I practiced all afternoon even though I didn’t want to. “Great. And you?”

“Doing well, doing well.” He cocks his head. “I can’t get over how you’ve changed.”

“Have I?”

“You look every inch like a smart professional who owns her own business.”

Hmmm. What to say to that? “And how are your parents?”

He hesitates. “Oh. Great. They’re both great.”

“And Melissa and Kyra?” His sisters.

“Fine. Melissa just got her MBA. Kyra’s got one year left at the U.”

A second of silence hangs between us.

“I saw the article in the newspaper about your boutique when it opened. It was a great story.” He sounds a little… over-polite.

I
really
don’t want to talk about Something Blue. Daniel seems impressed that I have it, but I can’t move past
why
I have it. “Thanks.”

Another awkward moment of dead air follows.

I wish he’d just get to whatever it is that is on his mind. We really don’t need to waste any time with small talk. We were almost married, for heaven’s sake.

“Daisy, I’m really glad to see that you’re doing so well. I… I feel bad about what happened. I really do.”

I recognize the apologetic tone from his phone message. It unnerves me. I pull out the practiced line. “I know you didn’t intend to hurt me.”

“I didn’t! Honestly, I didn’t. I shouldn’t have done that to you. You’re an amazing person. I never really got it. And I’m sorry I didn’t.”

My throat is tightening despite my mental commands to calm down. “It’s okay, Daniel. I don’t hold it against you. Really, I don’t.”

He sits back in his chair and smiles wide, like I’ve just made his day. “I’m so glad to hear that.”

I can hear my mom chiding me.
Don’t let him weasel his way back into your heart, Daisy. Make him woo his way back in.

“That makes what I need to tell you that much easier.”

Mom’s voice disappears from my head. What did he just say?

“See, the thing is, Daisy. I’m… I’m getting married.”

A sensation of stifling weight envelops me in an instant. It feels like an ugly, heavy apron—the kind I wore when I was a kid and got my teeth x-rayed—has just been thrown on top of my body with alarming force. The air around me is at once oppressive.

I can’t speak.

Harriet comes to the rescue. I can feel her crawling her way out of my inner self to take over for me.

“You’re getting married?” My voice is calm. But it is not my voice.

“I know it probably seems kind of quick, but I met Dana in January and well, we just… we just hit it off. It seems like I’ve known her all my life.”

“You’re getting married?”

“I don’t want you worrying about a lot of our mutual friends coming to the wedding. We’re actually getting married in the Virgin Islands over the Fourth of July. So it’s just going to be family and a few friends.”

He is studying me, searching my face for evidence that I’m going to have a fit right here at Lorenzo’s.

“Wow. I guess I should say congratulations,” I say instead.

I can tell he’s amazed how nicely things are turning out for him. “Daisy, I wanted you to hear this from me. I didn’t want you hearing it from anyone else.”

“Thanks. I appreciate that.” Wise, polite Harriet.

“So, are you okay with all this? I don’t want to leave anything undone.”

“Sure, Daniel. I’m happy for you. I wish you all the best.”

Now he is practically dancing with joy. He gets the girl he loves and the absolution he craves. “Thanks, Daisy. For understanding. You really are amazing. Are you seeing anyone? ‘Cause whoever he is, he’s the luckiest guy in the world. Next to me of course!”

“Of course.” I totally ignore his question.

He doesn’t seem to know what to say next and Harriet certainly isn’t going to make it any easier for him.

“It’s been great seeing you.” His voice has the edge of finality to it. “Can I walk you back to your boutique?”

“No. It’s such a nice afternoon. I think I’ll just sit here for a little while and enjoy it.”

“Okay, then.” He stands, hesitates and then leans over to give me a peck on the other cheek. “See you around.”

I smile. The demure grin of a calm, collected soul. “See you.”

He smiles, and then turns and walks away. His sandals make a slapping sound on the pavement.

He’s wearing no socks.

Dear Harriet,

Thanks for stepping in to save the day. I would’ve been lost without you today.

I don’t know how to explain what I’m feeling at this moment. There are probably words for this, but I don’t know what they are. I feel kind of numb actually. Shelby says Daniel is an absolute toad. Mom says he just happens to be nothing like Dad and that’s who I should wait for—a guy like Dad. L’Raine says you can’t help whom you love. And whom you don’t.

Max heard everything I told Mom and L’Raine and he just said, “Well, Daisy that’s that. Want to go to Cody’s tonight and watch the Twins game?”

I went.

They lost.

Dear Daisy,

Was happy to be of assistance.

L’Raine is probably right. Mom surely is.

By the way, the Twins play again on Friday. And the day after that. And the day after that.

Harriet

I
was tying ribbons around tiny bags of Jordan almonds the moment Daniel chose to tell me he couldn’t marry me.

When he told me he
wouldn’t
marry me.

It was on a Wednesday evening. I was sampling the nuts as I tied bag after bag and I was on a bit of a sugar high when he dropped by my apartment. My old apartment. I had the
Home and Garden Channel
on and I had just finished a bean and cheese burrito. A little heel of wrapped tortilla was still warm on a paper plate next to me when the doorbell rang and I went to answer it.

I was surprised to see him. He hadn’t called first. The clueless romantic in me thought it was just peachy that my fiancé came over to my apartment unannounced. That meant he missed me. I hadn’t seen him at work much that day or the day before that. His department was busy doing a huge networking redesign for the executive suite so I was under the impression he was being worked too hard.

So there he was, standing there on my doorstep, ten days before our wedding, looking needy.

“Daniel!” I cooed. “Hey! Come on in.” I was bouncy, excited, with sugar and love running through my veins. He came inside and I barely noticed his mood did not match mine. I led him over to my living room couch and proudly showed him my handiwork. I was halfway done creating three-hundred satin-and-tulle bundles of pastel-hued almonds. Each one had a little vellum streamer with the words “Daniel and Daisy” embossed in silver ink.

“Want to try one?” I handed him a pale pink almond and he had hesitated before taking it.

“It’s okay,” I assured him. “We have more than we need. Guess I went a little overboard on the estimate.”

Daniel took the almond but he didn’t eat it. He just stood there fingering its smoothness. I mistook his reticence for having had a bad day at the office.

“Something happen at work today?” I asked.

He looked at me, then at the almond in his hand, and then at the coffee table overflowing with cloud-like bundles of white netting and ribbons.

When he turned his eyes back to me I knew my life was about to change. Honestly I did. He opened his mouth.

“We need to talk.”

Do you know how much power exists in those four little words, strung together just like that? The tide of sugar in my body coursed to a shrieking halt. The room seemed to sway for a moment. When someone says to you “We need to talk” it means something bad has happened. Or is about to happen.

I think I might have said, “What?”

“Can we sit down?” He didn’t wait for me to answer. He just sat down on my couch and waited for me to do the same.

It was probably a full thirty seconds before I sat down next to him. Our knees weren’t even touching. I wanted so much to be able to say, “What is it, darling?” But fear—cold and sure—kept my mouth shut.

Daniel didn’t say anything at first; he just sat there with the almond in his fingers, breathing in and out. I know now he was summoning strength to tell me he wanted out.

“Daisy.” He began with saying my name. I wish he hadn’t. It made it so personal. Maybe that sounds ridiculous. But I was to spend many weeks after that night hearing echoes of him saying my name like that. “I don’t know to say this,” he said.

I tried to concentrate on staying completely calm. I remember thinking to myself that Daniel was just there to tell me the honeymoon plans had been thwarted, that maybe the tickets to our flight to Aruba had been cancelled or that he was going to have to go back to work right away. Or maybe his best friend Ted who was supposed to be his best man had just been killed in a horrible car accident.

“Say what?” I whispered.

He took his time lifting his head to look at me. Then the words he apparently had so dreaded saying slipped off his lips like butter off a hot knife. “I don’t want to get married.”

When you are ten days away from getting married, when the wedding dress of your dreams is hanging in your closet and your spare bedroom is full of shower gifts and your coffee table is bubbling over with tiny bags of Jordan almonds, hearing words like that don’t have any effect on you. Because your first thought is “I didn’t just hear what I thought I heard.”

So my first two reactions were silence and a blank stare. I don’t think Daniel was prepared for either one.

“Daisy, did you hear me?”

I don’t clearly remember what I said or did next. I’m sure whatever it was, it removed any doubt in Daniel’s mind about whether I had heard him or not. The next thing I do remember is standing and walking away from him. I think I may have said something like, “You don’t just do this, Daniel. This is not something you do! You don’t just call off a wedding ten days before it’s supposed to happen!”

“This is not something I’m
just
doing!” he fired back. “I’ve been agonizing over this for weeks.”

Agonizing. Now there’s a word to rip your heart from your body. Wanting to break up with me had put him in agony. Not the thought of leaving me, but the desire to do it.

“I can’t believe you’re doing this. I can’t believe it.” I was pacing the tiny living room. He still sat on the couch.

“Daisy, listen to me. I’ve been going over this in my mind for I don’t know how long. I just don’t think you’d be happy. For a little while, yes, you could be. But not for the long haul.”

“Why? Why wouldn’t I be?” I had stopped pacing and turned to face him.

“Because.”

“How do you know I wouldn’t be?”

“Because I wouldn’t be.” He said this rather softly. He knew it would feel like a knife in my chest. It did.

That’s when I walked back over to the couch and knelt by him. The pose of supplication.

“You wouldn’t be happy with me?” Tears were streaming down my cheeks.

He shook his head no.

“Why? Why not, Daniel?”

He paused for a moment. I truly believe he took no pleasure in saying what he said next.

“Because I don’t love you enough.”

The knife in my chest made a quarter-turn, slicing through an ache I thought couldn’t get worse. A tiny sound escaped my throat. The word “what?” was wrapped up in it.

“I like you, Daisy. I really do. But you deserve someone who truly loves you with everything he’s got. I’m not that guy.”

This is where I began to plead with him.

“Daniel, think about what you are doing! We’re supposed to be getting married in ten days!”

“I
am
thinking about it. That’s all I’ve been doing. We’d be making a huge mistake, Daisy.”

“Please don’t do this, Daniel.”

“It’s the right thing to do.”

“No, it’s not!” I wailed.

He stood up. “I think I should go.”

I sprang to my feet as well and reached out my hand to touch him. “Can’t we talk about it this, Daniel? Please?”

He exhaled heavily. “It won’t change anything, Daisy. I can’t marry you. You shouldn’t want me to.”

But I did. I did. Even while he stood there ready to leave the apartment and me, I still wanted him to marry me.

“Look, I’ll call you tomorrow and we’ll talk about how we’re going to handle this.”

“Daniel,
please
!”

He leaned down and placed the little Jordan almond on my coffee table next to a pile of poufs of white fabric and sweetness.

“I’m sorry. I’m really very sorry.” He moved past me, walked to my front door and opened it. A second later he was gone.

I felt for the bench of my father’s piano behind me and sank down onto it. When I leaned back against the keys in my anguish, they made a fairy-like sound.

I’ve never missed my father as much as I did in that moment, when I realized the man I loved didn’t love me.

I knew I could—and would—call my mother and she’d be over in a flash to weep with me and hold me tight. But she wasn’t the one who used to sing to me “I’m half-crazy all for the love of you.” She wasn’t the one who called me her little girl. She’s not the one who chose my name.

It was my dad who did all those things.