Daisys decision, p.2
Daisy's Decision, page 2
After that, whenever possible, Daisy closely watched the two of them interact. Or rather, not really interact. They didn’t date. They didn’t even sit together at lunch most of the time. One day, she watched them pass each other in the hall without even giving one another a glance.
Daisy fantasized about taking Leah’s place and going to Prom with Ken. She figured he might not notice anyway, and it would save Leah the expense of buying a formal gown.
In fairness, Ken and his brothers had their sights set on only one thing, and that one thing was Auburn University in southern Alabama. Ken and Brad would let nothing get in the way of that goal. Jon, however, started getting a little bit of a reputation as a bad boy. He started wearing his hair differently, which made it easy for Daisy to tell him from Brad. As usual, she could spot Ken from a mile away just by the cut of his jib.
Meanwhile, her Freshman year, while Daisy mostly warmed the bench in an alternate slot, their Debate Team placed at sectionals and then won at regionals. They ended up in the top twenty-five at nationals held in none-other than Washington DC.
Daisy figured out that she loved debating for several reasons. First of all, she had to think and speak quickly. Secondly, she spent so much time and energy arguing with herself inside her own head, debating gave her a much-needed outlet that helped to still her troubled mind and spirit. Finally, debate grounded her in logic and allowed her to get some perspective about her emotions most of the time.
Most of the time.
At youth group, the Dixon brothers began to discuss their summer mission trip. This summer, they would spend nine weeks in Kenya digging wells and building housing in the slums, helping people get out of the cardboard shacks they lived in now. As soon as Daisy heard about this, she quietly began to petition to go on the mission trip with them. She did all of her research about passports and visas and vaccinations. She read the US State Department travel advisories. She allowed herself to fantasize about stolen moments with Ken while they worked side by side to fulfill God’s work.
Gradually, she came to realize that her parents could not afford to send her on the trip. The church could probably assist and offset some of the cost, but right or wrong, that would bring a measure of shame to her father that Daisy would never want handed out. So, she instantly informed her parents she had changed her mind about the entire thing, and everyone breathed a little easier.
Daisy finished the year with honors. At her brother’s graduation ceremony, Daisy got a glimpse of Ken wearing his cap and gown. He and his brothers would spend the summer in Kenya and then begin their matriculation efforts at Auburn directly upon their return. Daisy had no idea when, or even if, she would ever see Ken Dixon again.
For the remainder of her high school years, Daisy focused on things like Beta club, Debate and Forensics, History, and English. She went to Homecoming with her cousin, Julian, and went to Prom with the Debate Team’s newly minted captain, a Junior named Garcia Perez. Daisy let Garcia kiss her at the end of the night, though Garcia’s kiss left her feet firmly planted on the ground. If anything, gravity felt even heavier at that moment.
She ended up ranking sixth in her class. Unlike the majority of her classmates, Daisy knew exactly what career she wanted to take on. Specifically, she wanted to become a litigator. She planned to obtain her Juris Doctorate, pass the bar exam, and become an attorney. God willing, she planned to handle morally relevant cases within her community.
Daisy gratefully accepted a two-year scholarship to Emory just north of Atlanta. She had faith that God would provide some way for her to finish her education beyond the first two years. She made the Dean’s list every quarter and finished her first year at the top of her class.
A few days into summer break, her grandfather called her and asked her to join him for a celebratory dinner. He treated her to the Viscolli restaurant on top of the famous hotel. They sat near the windows, and every hour the entire restaurant rotated 360 degrees, giving a perfect view of the Atlanta skyline.
During the entrée, he said, “So, your grandmother and I agreed that if you keep your grades up, we want to pay for the rest of your school.”
Overwhelmed, Daisy exclaimed, “Papa! That’s amazing! Gracias! Muchas gracias. How can I ever repay you?”
Her grandparents chuckled, and her grandfather said, “Funny you should ask.” He folded his hands and met her eyes with a solemn look. “After you pass the bar, promise me you will do something for us.”
“What? Anything. I’ll do whatever you like.”
He nodded. “We would like you to serve as the legal representative and executive director for Gálatas Seis. We hope you can commit to five years. Now, understand Cariño, the position is not charity work on your part. It isn’t a lot, but there’s a salary.”
Her grandparents had built Gálatas Seis from the ground up, using the verses in Galatians 6:1-10 about bearing one another’s burdens, doing good, and sowing the Spirit as their mission statement. Daisy had no idea her grandparents ever even had such plans for her. The five-year commitment didn’t really concern her. She felt that amount of time was a small price to pay in exchange for a college education and starting out debt-free. She had visited Gálatas Seis a few times in recent years but could not even imagine how she would fit in there. “I don’t know anything about running a non-profit.”
“That’s the idea, Cariño. We teach you everything.”
“Why five years?”
“The truth is, life is short. Your grandmother and I, we really want to travel. We want to visit family more. Things like that. For the first few years, you learn everything you can. After that, we hope you can take over a lot of the work there so we can start to move into retirement. Then, for the last few years, train your replacement. The whole time, just relax and rest a little. You will have job security. You’ll be doing good work for a community that needs you. Take that time to build your resume and plan for your future.”
Daisy sat quietly for a few minutes, pondering the idea. To think that her grandparents had planned this for who knew how long? The idea astonished her. “Have you talked to Dad about this?”
“No. Of course not. I’m talking to you. I trust your judgment, Cariño. If we have a deal, we can talk to your parents together.” When she didn’t answer again for a few seconds, he prompted, “Do we have a deal?”
Suddenly, Daisy knew the answer, and no amount of additional mulling would change it. “Deal. And thank you again.”
She worked hard in school and made the short trip home nearly every weekend. By the first semester of her Junior year at Emory, she even went on a few dates, though her feet still remained firmly on the ground. No mountaintop experiences. Once more, Daisy assumed that her childhood crush had been nothing more than that—merely a youthful infatuation—and that real love felt much more mundane than her childish flights of fancy.
All of these memories, the watershed moments of a lifetime, flashed through her mind. How different might her life have been, Daisy wondered, if only this or that moment had gone differently? Daisy pondered that question and even dared to wonder what the future might hold as she held the pregnancy test and watched the tiny little pink minus sign mercilessly and relentlessly turn into a plus symbol.
Definitely not a mountaintop moment.
The spacious lobby bustled with activity. A receptionist sat at a circular desk and answered the phone in a constant, cheerful voice, “Hamilton, Hamilton, Bosie, and Taylor. How may I direct your call? Please hold.” In the ten minutes she’d sat there, Daisy hadn’t noticed a pause in the incoming calls.
Beside the receptionist, a uniformed guard gazed at half a dozen monitors and kept an eye on anyone who walked through the lobby. When she’d arrived, Daisy had asked to see Jason Taylor. She’d handed him her driver’s license, which he scanned with a hand scanner then directed her to the waiting area.
She contemplated going to the bathroom, but she worried Jason would come down when she was gone, so she waited. Nerves tingled up her arms and across the back of her neck. What did she have to worry about, though? He loved her.
Didn’t he?
The elevator doors opened, and Jason came out. She stood as he walked toward her, a frown covering his face, pulling his dark eyebrows together. He wore a gray suit with a red and yellow striped tie. “Daisy?” He looked around as he approached, scanning the crowd in the lobby. “What are you doing here?”
Her mouth felt like someone had stuffed it with cotton then dried it with a hot air gun. She tried to swallow but thought she’d gag from the effort. “Jason,” she said in a breathless whisper. “Thank goodness you’re here. I tried to call.”
“You know I’m not available on Tuesdays.” He put a hand on her elbow and steered her toward the exit. “I’ll call you when I’m free.”
When she realized he didn’t intend to talk to her, she dug her heels in, abruptly stopping them. “No. This is important.”
He looked around again, his brown eyes darting around like a cornered cat. “What?”
Confused, she jerked her arm free. “Can we talk in your office or something?”
“Of course not!”
She flinched back as if he’d struck her. “What’s wrong with you, Jason?”
As if he suddenly realized how out of character he had just acted, he relaxed. His face smoothed out, his demeanor changed, his mouth moved in a small smile. “Nothing, Daisy. I’m just incredibly busy. I have court in an hour.” He straightened his tie, and she gasped out loud when she saw his hand—the one with the wedding band; the wedding band she’d never seen before. He didn’t notice. “Is it so important it can’t wait until our date on Thursday?”
She narrowed her eyes as she frowned, and she took a full step back away from him. Pieces of a previously unseen puzzle started to fall into place. Answers to questions she didn’t even realize she’d asked popped up. “Why Thursday? Does your wife leave town or something?”
He froze, his hand on the knot of his tie, his mouth partially open. Finally, he said, “As a matter of fact, yes. She leaves on Thursday mornings for our practice in Charlotte and comes home Saturday nights. I assumed you knew.”
When she realized she stood there gaping, she slowly closed mouth, remembering every word he’d ever spoken to her. She could hear his voice as he talked about their future, how much he loved her, how he longed to be with her forever.
He continued speaking. “Hamilton, Hamilton, Bosie, and Taylor. She’s Hamilton. Hamilton-Taylor, actually, but we kept the firm name the same just for simplicity’s sake.”
“Simplicity’s sake?” Was she dreaming? Dare she pinch herself? She exhaled slowly. “You never once said you were married. Never even hinted at it. In fact, what you did was talk about us getting married. Have you conveniently forgotten about that?”
His relaxed facade disappeared, and his eyes started darting around again. “Listen, we cannot talk here.”
“Then maybe you should have answered your phone.”
“Daisy, I need you to—”
“I’m pregnant, Jason.”
He stopped moving again. He just stared at her, immobile, for one heartbeat, then two. At last, he asked, “And?”
With the air escaping her lungs, she repeated his question. “And?”
“And why are you telling me?”
It had to be a dream. She’d wake up tomorrow and wonder what part of her subconscious created this absurd scenario. “You’re going to be a daddy, Jason Taylor. Just think. Sometime the last week of February. Isn’t that something to get excited about?” She wondered if he’d hear the sarcasm in her voice, if he’d pick up on the subtleties of her fury. “Or are you already a father?”
He glanced over his shoulder then looked back at her. “You need to leave. Please spare yourself the indignity of having security remove you.”
Security? With her heart beating furiously in her ears, she stepped closer to him and spoke very low. “Jason, I am pregnant. With your child. Yours. I didn’t know you were married. I thought you loved me.” Her breath hiccupped, and she paused. He opened his mouth to speak, but she held a hand up to stop him. “I need to know what we’re going to do now.”
His eyes glinted with irritation. “What we’re going to do is take care of that pregnancy. Wipe it away. I’m not going to have you ruin what I’ve spent a lifetime achieving. If you need a name, I can recommend someone.”
Gasping for a clean breath of air that didn’t contain his cloying aftershave, she took a step back, then another. “You don’t mean—”
“That is exactly what I mean, and exactly where I stop. I can give you some money. End of my part in this.”
Her mind whirled with words, accusations. She mentally screamed at him in two languages. Finally, she said, “I’m not going to get an abortion.”
He glanced toward the door as it opened and looked at her again. “I guess that’s your choice. Isn’t that the word bandied about? Choice? Do what you want. I want nothing to do with it.”
“Then put it in writing,” she snapped.
A confused frown covered his face. “I beg your pardon?”
“Put it in writing. Remove your claim to this child. Legally.”
“Fine.” He looked at his watch. “I’ll have the papers drawn up.”
“Great.” She gestured toward the chair she’d just vacated. “I’ll wait.”
“I can’t do it here.”
Daisy walked over to the chairs and sat down. He took the chair next to her and turned his body toward hers. “I can’t prepare the papers. Someone will see them. I’ll have to have someone else do them in another practice.”
“Great.” She smiled, despite the rolling mass of emotions trying to destroy her from the inside. “I’ll wait.” He huffed and surged to his feet. As he started to walk away, she added, “If security tries to remove me, I’m happy to ask your wife to draw up the papers.”
He cursed at her under his breath, but she heard the word. As soon as she saw the elevator doors close behind him, she pushed a fisted hand against her mouth and closed her eyes, praying for strength to get through the length of time it would take him to come back down with paperwork that would terminate any right he had to her baby.
A tear slid down her cheek, and she furiously swiped at it. She would not cry over him or his lies. She would not mourn something that never actually existed in the first place.
Definitely not a mountaintop moment.
As she sat there, she analyzed every moment ever spent with Jason. What clues had she ignored? Why had she not seen his true character? How had she gotten to this point?
She’d met him at a fundraiser for Gálatas Seis. He’d completely swept her off her feet, dancing with her all night long, attentively listening to her, acting interested in the mission for which she had so much passion. She told him about houses they’d built, homes they’d restored, stories about school supplies, stocking groceries into empty cupboards, supplying new mothers with cribs and diapers. He’d acted interested, insisting on donating money whenever she had an unexplained need arise. He even offered to join the board of directors the next time they had a seat open. Worst of all, he’d talked about their future, a future working together to make Atlanta and the surrounding community a better place for everyone, regardless of economic status.
Basically, he’d lied his way into sleeping with her. He’d tricked her. He’d made her believe him and give herself to him in a way she’d never done before with anyone.
Shame overwhelmed her. Little lights danced in front of her eyes, and no matter how deeply she breathed, it felt like no oxygen reached her lungs. Just when she thought she’d burst to her feet and run screaming from the building, a rail-thin woman with jet black hair and dark-framed glasses approached her carrying a manila envelope.
“Daisy Ruiz?” she inquired.
Daisy stood. “Yes.”
She thrust the envelope toward her. “Mr. Hamilton asked me to deliver this to you.”
With shaking hands, she took it and opened the flap. She pulled the paper out, and the woman started to walk away. “Wait,” she said, “Let me make sure it’s what I need.”
The woman spun on her spiky heels and crossed her arms, clearly put out by the errand. Daisy scanned the document, making sure he’d hidden no clauses that could harm her in the future. As far as her legal eye could ascertain, everything appeared above-board.
“All set?” the woman asked.
“Yes. This will do.” The woman rolled her eyes and spun around, crossing the lobby to the elevators. Daisy turned, clutching the envelope, and walked back out into the Georgia summer.
What could she do now?
Nothing brought Kenneth “Ken” Dixon more happiness than bringing a home up out of the ground. The designing of the plans, working with the engineers, watching the earth breaking under the site work contractor’s machinery—it all gave him a sense of anticipation that thrilled him. Brick by brick, stone by stone, plank of wood by plank of wood, the material didn’t change the feeling. Twelve hundred square feet or twelve thousand, the size didn’t matter. His joy came from watching the house emerge, the details going into the molding, the laying of intricate tile work, the gleaming of new fixtures and appliances.
Today, as he surveyed the faces staring back at him from the conference room table, he acknowledged that as much as he loved the process of building houses, he hated this part of his job. As the residential division manager for Dixon Contracting and Design, he regularly led meetings with project managers, architects, and engineers, even though he would rather just build.
Today, as on every last Monday of the month, the team discussed the status of the three hundred and thirteen residential properties currently planned, in design, or under construction. They had forty-two Dixon designed neighborhoods and five multi-unit apartment complexes under construction in various parts of the southeast. Individual homes with individual contracts took up the remainder.
