Page 75 of Daisies & Devin
Withhis hands on my shoulders, he steered me toward the staircase and I went downfirst, not giving myself the option to turn around. I didn’t see herimmediately, my view was obstructed by the wall at the bottom of the stairs,but when I turned the corner, there they were.
Immediately,I was clouded by the reality that my parents had never stood together in theway this man held an arm around her waist. Her left hand, absent of all signsof jewelry from my father, pressed to his chest, and they both wore a similar expressionof bewilderment as they looked around the shop.
Myfather loved my mother, I told myself, and she loved him. I knew that, but whenthis strange man pressed his lips to my mother’s temple, I couldn’t let go ofthe agonizing fact that I couldn’t recall my father evershowinghislove for her. Not once.
Istudied the man. Tall. Handsome, in a silver fox kind of way. He was youngerthan her, I guessed, but not by much. He wore a nice pair of tailored jeans,and while I shamed myself for checking him out, they hugged his body in all theright places. A perfect fit really, and it was those jeans that brought me toeye other things—his shoes, his shirt, his platinum watch.
Devin’shand was on my back, gently pushing me forward. I walked over one of the looserfloorboards, and it creaked. The sound seemed to echo throughout the shop as Iwinced, knowing my cover had been blown. My mother whirled around on her heel.
“Kylie!”she exclaimed with excited glee, as she rushed toward me with outstretchedarms.
Herarms were around me, squeezing hard. “Oh God, Kylie … this place isamazing!”I realized she was crying, and holy crap, so was I. “It’s gotten so much morewonderful since I was last here. I’m so proud of you.”
“Thanks,Mom,” I said, weepy against her ear.
Iimagined Devin and the new guy standing there, looking to each other and to uswith that awkward silence surrounding them, and I reluctantly stepped back,taking her in.
“Youlook great,” she said, mirroring my thoughts, as though we hadn’t seen eachother recently. She touched my hair and turned to the handsome man, “Richard, Itold you about Kylie’s hair, right?”
“It’seven prettier in person,” he said with a fond smile, and then with embarrassedrealization that he hadn’t yet introduced himself, he stepped forward with ahand outstretched. “O-oh, Kylie, I’m Richard. It’s so wonderful to finally meetyou. Grace—your mom, she’s told me so much about you.”
Iaccepted his hand and it engulfed mine as we shook. His grip was warm, sturdy,and sure with a confidence I wished I had in the moment. “It’s … it’s nice tomeet you too, Richard.” I wanted to say that I didn’t know much about him, thatmy mom had withheld so much from me over the months. But instead, I looked upto my rock, and said, “This is my boyfriend, Dev—”
“OhGod, of course! Devin!” Mom reached up with outstretched arms and Devinengulfed her waist with his own.
“HeyMrs.—” And he stopped himself, eyes widening with apology toward Richard.
“JustGrace, Dev. How many times do I have to tell you that?” she asked, pushing awayfrom him with a gentle pat against his arm. Completely unfazed by the mentionof her former self. “Richard,thisis Devin.”
Theway she said it—thisis Devin—made me narrow my eyes curiously. Like shewas implying something I wasn’t quitegraspingand Itook a step back, wrapping my arm around Devin’s.
Richardsmiled. “Ah, right, of course.” He shook Devin’s hand affirmatively, beamingwith excitement. “Grace tells me you’re quite the musician.”
“Uh,well, I like to think so,” Dev replied, pulling his arm from my grasp to wrapit around my waist.
“Don’tlisten to him,” I quickly threw in. “He has no idea how amazing he is.”
Richardresponded with a kind smile, never taking his eyes off Dev. “The good onesnever do.”
“We’rejust waiting for someone to wander into the shop and offer him a deal,” I said,grinning with pride and hope.
“She’ssupposed to say that,” Devin threw in, apologizing for me.
“Thatmight be true,” Richard said with a warm chuckle. He nodded slowly to himself.“In any case, I’m looking forward to hearing you play. I’m a bit of a musiclover myself.”
“So!”Mom said, clapping her hands, “Now that the introductions are out of the way, Iwas thinking we could go grab some dinner before the show. What do you kidsthink? What’s good around here?”
“Um…” I felt awkward and strange. “The shop is still open, Mom.”
Herface fell. Disappointment and hurt overshadowing her unfamiliar, prettyfeatures. “Oh … Right, I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. Maybe afterthe—"
“Youknow,” Devin said slyly, nudging me in the side with his knuckles, “youcouldmake an exception and close for the next couple of hours until I go on.”
Ithought about it and caught the encouragement in his gaze, and I nodded. “Yeah,you know what? That’s a good idea. I can do that.”
Andso, I left a note on the door and locked it behind us. Devin took my hand andRichard took Mom’s. I caught myself staring at his thumb, stroking the outsideof her pointer finger in slow, smooth lines. She turned to look up at him, andthen she tipped her lips toward his.
Iturned away before he could bow his head, before his mouth could touch hers forthe briefest of moments. But I heard it, and Devin slowed his gait, holding meback as Mom and Richard walked ahead.
