Daisys decision, p.29
Daisy's Decision, page 29
“Maybe. Doctor said I’m on the cusp. I just haven’t decided if I’m willing to go through the pain.”
Jon walked into the room. “I put the meat in the fridge.” He scooped Anne up off the floor and tossed her into the air. She giggled with delight. When he brought her close to him, she grabbed his face with both hands and tried to bite his nose.
Ken clapped his hands once then rubbed them together. “Perfect. I’ll get the grill going.”
Alex stood. “I got some salads from that restaurant you guys like near your office.”
Daisy pointed at Alex. “When you’re ready to learn, I can show you how to do potato salad and coleslaw.”
Alex batted her eyelashes. “I don’t need to learn. I have a restaurant and caterer list. That’s all I need to get by.” The women laughed. “Besides, Jon can cook. His mom taught him. If he wants a home-cooked meal, he can get busy or head over to the castle.”
Jon nodded. “She’s not exaggerating. But I have no complaints.” He set Anne back on the floor. “I’m going to help Ken with the grill. Did you bring the kiddie pool?”
Valerie spoke up. “It’s set up in the back yard.”
Daisy shifted to stand, and Ken scooped Rosita off of her lap. Once she gained her feet, she said, “I brought down her little swimsuit and a swim diaper. I think I set them on the kitchen table.”
“I’ll get her changed.”
He slipped an arm over her shoulder and pulled her close. Rosita leaned toward her and grabbed at her cheek. She smiled and reached a finger out. Rosita gripped it and babbled.
Ken sat back in the canvas chair and hooked his shoe on his knee. Brad had a fire going in the fire pit. Jon stabbed at the coals with a metal poker.
The girls had gone inside, taking the babies away from the mosquitoes. Ken enjoyed watching the flames dance against the night. He thought over the last year and the roller coaster ride they’d experienced.
“You two doing anything for your anniversary?” Brad asked. “It’s tomorrow, right?”
Ken nodded. “Mom’s taking Rosita overnight. We’re going to Savannah. That’s about as far away as Daisy was willing to go.”
“Fair enough. We haven’t left Anne yet,” Jon said. “But Alex has a friend in New York who’s getting married in November. We’re talking about possibly leaving her then and doing an overnight.”
“I was surprised when she agreed. But, we’ve never had just the two of us.” He grinned. “Rosita has always been there in some way.”
“She’ll still be there in some way,” Brad said. “I find it fascinating as I think about the time before Alison was in our lives, and I have a really hard time remembering.”
“Same,” Jon said. “We don’t have the history of time you and Valerie do, but I know what you mean. It’s like I was always Anne’s dad.”
Ken smiled. “You always were. God is not restricted to our linear understanding of time, brothers. This has already been written. He prepared us long ago.”
It overwhelmed him, left him in awe, the way God moved through his life and Daisy’s life to bring them to the moment that they became husband and wife, one in His eyes. He loved the lasso ceremony performed at their wedding because it gave a visual representation of that idea.
Living life with Daisy had filled a hole he didn’t know existed. Everything had led to the moment he walked into her office that fateful day in late June. When he saw her, he knew, and nothing over time changed it. Coming so close to losing her had made him see it as if a spotlight shone down on it.
Most women didn’t survive an amniotic fluid embolism and many who did suffered strokes and permanent neurological damage. Daisy had full control of her mind, even though she still couldn’t remember Rosita’s birth. Her body would eventually heal all the way. The physical therapist had remarked on her amazement at Daisy’s progress. Ken knew the prayers going up on Daisy’s behalf during the traumatic days following her experience had much to do with how well she did now.
The door behind them opened. “Little Miss needs to get home and ready for bed,” Valerie said. She walked out onto the patio. “Do you want me to take her?”
Brad stood. “No. I’ll go with you.” He slipped his arm over her shoulders and pulled her close. “It’s good to see Daisy moving so well. Last time we were over here, she was still really weak.”
“The improvements are starting to snowball.” He got to his feet. Jon stood with him. Ken put the lid on the fire.
As he turned, Jon slapped him on the back. “Have fun in Savannah. Try to talk about something other than the baby.”
Ken chuckled. “Don’t think that will be a problem.”
They walked inside. Daisy sat on the floor with Rosita sitting between her legs. They had a cloth book in front of them, and Daisy said the letter B while she traced it with her finger. Then she said it in Spanish.
Alex asked, “You ready?”
Jon nodded. “I didn’t see your car. Did you walk over?”
“Yeah. The stroller’s on the front porch.” She scooped Anne up and held her out to Jon. “I need to pack up my camera, and I’ll be ready.”
Ken helped his brothers gather bags, toys, and leftover food. After seeing them out the front door, he went back through the house and upstairs to Rosita’s room. Daisy had her on the changing table, stripping her out of her outfit. She glanced over her shoulder. “Can you get a bath ready?”
He kissed her on the temple and went into Rosita’s bathroom. Daisy had decorated it in ducks and frogs. He sat on the edge of the tub and ran the water until the temperature felt right, then filled it just enough to cover Rosita’s lap. By the time he turned the water off, Daisy had her ready.
She handed the baby over to him, then sat against the counter while he bathed their daughter. As he dribbled water over her black hair, he talked quietly to her. “And tomorrow you get to go spend the night in the castle like a real princess. Won’t that be amazing? You’ve never done that before.”
Daisy chuckled. “Will your mom even know what to do with just one baby?”
He glanced at her over his shoulder. “It won’t be long before she convinces all of us to leave all three with her. Then she’ll be in her good grandma groove.”
When he finished the bath, he lifted her out of the water, and Daisy wrapped her in a warm, yellow towel. Once she dried her off and put her in white pajamas with little pink roses all over them, they went into their bedroom.
Near the fireplace, they’d set two wing-backed chairs and a small love seat. Ken sat on the love seat, and Daisy snuggled into his side to nurse Rosita. As he did every night at bedtime, he pulled out his Bible and read the day’s passage out loud. As he read, he ran his fingers through Daisy’s hair and listened to the sounds of his daughter nursing herself to sleep. Contentment filled his heart, encouraged his soul, relaxed his mind.
“One year tomorrow,” he murmured as he finished the Bible passage.
“It’s certainly been a year.” She grinned up at him. “Here’s to a very boring second year of marriage.”
He chuckled and squeezed her close as Rosita’s eyes closed and her head lolled back, fast asleep.
Rare moments in life, we stand at the very top of the mountain. Looking all around in every direction from that lofty height, glorious beauty fills our eyes. The clouds look like a white ocean at our feet. Our hearts race. A light-headed feeling overtakes our senses from the thin air, the chill, the silence. We barely notice our shadows as pure golden sunlight, unfiltered by the clouds below, bathes our bodies like a halo. Even so, our skin turns to gooseflesh. Though exceptionally uncommon, these mountaintop moments do happen and—if we allow them to—overshadow the bulk of the time we exist down in the terrestrial valleys.
This was definitely a mountaintop moment.
The End
My sincere thanks to Dr. Doug Gates. He very patiently helped me brainstorm Daisy’s pregnancy. I told him how I imagined a scene, and within minutes, he had given me everything I ever needed to know. It helps that his wife Brenda is also a Christian author (https://gatesgalwrites.blog/), and he knew how to help. I really appreciate his time and energy.
A special thank you to Natalie Harris, Executive Director of the Coalition for the Homeless in Louisville, Kentucky. I met Natalie through a fundraiser for the Coalition for the Homeless. Even amid the chaos around the fundraiser, she willingly agreed to an interview with me so that I could build Daisy's world in a way that would ring true. Natalie told me stories, gave me insight, and answered all of my questions with much grace. I appreciate her help, and I am thrilled to have been part of an event that raised so much money for the Coalition.
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Please enjoy this special excerpt from book 1 in the Red Blood and Blue Grass Series, Black Belt, White Dress.
Get your copy of Black Belt, White Dress at this link!
Traci Winston faced the man standing in front of her. He had three inches on her five-foot, seven-inch height, and probably outweighed her by fifty pounds or more. She fisted her hands and slightly rose onto the balls of her feet. A bead of sweat ran down her back, tickling as it made a path along the tensed muscles, but she ignored it. Instead, she watched his eyes, gauging when he would make his move. As expected, she caught the flare of his eyes just as his leg came forward to sweep her feet out from under her. Anticipating that move, she sprang up and executed a perfect jump kick into his chest, sending him flailing backward. With his balance compromised, she landed and turned her body to side kick into his ribs, sending him all the way down.
The command from Master Travis Seaver ended the spar, and she relaxed, reaching down to help her opponent up. He hesitated before taking her hand but finally relented and allowed her to assist him. Once he had gained his feet, she slapped his hand between the two of hers as a silent acknowledgment. With Master Seaver’s next command, they bowed to each other and shook hands once more, then jogged to their places in the formation.
With a third-degree black belt and as the highest-ranking member of the group, Traci led the class in the ritual dismissal, then made her way to the dressing room. In no time, she had changed out of her dobak and into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt commemorating a Thanksgiving 5K she’d run last November. She pulled on a pair of socks and slipped her feet into her well-worn leather boots, tossed her dobak into her bag with her deputy sheriff’s uniform, and pulled the band out of her hair, letting the straight blonde tresses loose from their braid for the first time since her 6 a.m. shower.
On her way out of the locker room, she hit the switch for the light, leaving a dark room behind her. Because she already had boots on, she walked along the outer edge of the mat and went to Travis’ office. Pictures of him in various jump kicks graced the walls, and a large frame of his advancement in belts from white to his current fifth-degree black belt hung above a large bookshelf. He sat at his computer, frowning as he typed with two fingers. He always frowned at his computer screen. The warm glow of the desk lamp made the reddish highlights in his dark hair glow as if it had a halo. When she came into the office, he shut the lid of the laptop and pulled it from the port.
“There she is,” he greeted with a smile. He’d already changed into jeans and a blue T-shirt with his company logo on the back. He stood and came around the desk.
“Hey, you.” His arm slipped around her waist, and his warm lips covered hers. After dating for over two years, she kept expecting to get used to the feel of him, the smell of him, the taste of him, but every single time, it swept her away. She put her fingers on the sides of his face and felt his soft beard against the palms of her hands. He pulled her even closer and gripped the back of her hair. The intensity of emotions he pulled out of her made her legs quiver and drew a moan from deep inside her. She started to step closer, to wrap her arms around his neck and deepen the kiss, but he moved his hands to her hips and stepped back, putting some distance between them as he slowly gentled the kiss.
When he lifted his head, he stared down at her. She thought she could drown in the intensity of his green eyes. He brushed a strand of hair off her cheek then pressed his lips against her forehead.
She stepped back, immediately missing the feel of his body heat. She felt the silly grin on her face. A little breathless, she asked, “How has your day been?”
“Taught hand-to-hand at the police academy today. That’s always a good time.” He rubbed a hand over his beard. His eyes lit up with amusement, and he winked at her.
Feeling a warm rush of emotion as she remembered three years ago back to the first time she met him at the police academy, she grinned. “I didn’t know what I didn’t know until you got a hold of me.”
“Ha!” He grabbed his keys out of his desk drawer. “Ready?”
“Yes. I’m starving.” They didn’t have a lot of time during most weeks to spend together, but the days she could attend his last class, they always had dinner afterward. It made for a late night since the class ended at eight, but having the chance to share a meal with him made it worth it.
Most places in Charula, Kentucky closed by eight. That limited their meal choice options. They could drive to another town, which they’d done a few times. They could also drive outside town to the intersection with the interstate and hit a fast food place, which did not appeal to either of them. Usually, they went to Betsy’s, the diner near the courthouse. Betsy stayed open until ten on weeknights and eleven Fridays and Saturdays to accommodate the mill’s second shift that ended at nine. Added bonuses were that they could walk to it, the dinner crowd had already dispersed by eight-thirty, the mill crowd hadn’t arrived yet, and they both enjoyed the simple, homemade fare.
The early-spring evening felt nice, and the peak of the sunset lit Main Street with reds and golds reflecting off the storefront windows. Last week it had snowed. This week, the temperatures rocketed to the mid-70s, a typical early April week in central Kentucky. Traci slipped her hand into Travis’ and leaned into his arm as they walked. She carried her bag because she’d go straight home from the diner. They strolled down Main Street toward the river, passing the Main Street Church and Two Sisters’ flower shop, then crossed the road to the diner. Travis reached around her and opened the door, the bells jingling to announce their arrival.
“Hi, kids,” Betsy Bates said from behind the counter. She had cheaply dyed brown hair, hard ice-blue eyes accented by too much mascara, and the weathered and wrinkled face of a woman who had spent most of her youth working on a farm. As one of her favorite people, those eyes lit up whenever she saw Travis. “How’s things?”
“Been a day,” Traci answered with a smile. She and Travis slid into their usual booth. “But it’s Tuesday. You got any meatloaf left?”
“Only because I figured you two would be in tonight. I had to squirrel a slice away for ya.” She looked at Travis. “Whatcha want, darlin’?”
“Hmmm. Let’s do grilled chicken salad. Oil and vinegar dressing.”
Traci propped her chin in her hands and smiled at him. “I refuse to give up meatloaf. I’d rather work out an extra hour tomorrow morning to make up for it.”
He smiled and reached for her hand. “I have a tournament coming up. We can celebrate my win by eating meatloaf.”
“Deal.” She stared into his eyes, her heart rate increasing just from touching his hand. How did he do that?
When Betsy set their drinks next to them, it startled her. She hadn’t even heard her approach. “When are you two lovebirds going to make it official?”
She stood there, hands on her skinny hips, staring down at them as if her question merited a serious response.
Travis just grinned up at her. “God’s timing is perfect, eh, Miss Betsy?”
“Well, sure. But if He’s talkin’ and you ain’t listening, who’s that on?”
She walked away without waiting for his answer. Traci laughed at her back, but when she looked at Travis again her mouth went dry and the ability to make sound fled. The intensity of his look took her breath away. “What?” she croaked out.
“Let’s do it.”
Oh, she didn’t like the sound of this. She pulled her hand from his and gripped it in her lap. “Do what?”
“Get married.”
No. No. No. The word tripped around inside her head. No way. Her mother would become like a ravenous dog with a bone. She couldn’t possibly put herself in that position.
Even though the words screamed in her head, none of them would come out of her mouth, giving Travis leave to root around in the front pocket of his jeans and pull out a velvet ring box.
Oh no! He’d even bought a ring? He had it in his pocket?
Without warning, without waiting for some silent clue from her that this was in any way okay, he slid out of the booth and got down on one knee in front of her. She stared at him as if her eyes could will him back up and back into his seat. When he opened the box, her jaw fell open.
Instead of staring at some ridiculously large marquee cut stone glinting in the fluorescent lights of the diner, she stared at a black silicone ring with a crystal embedded in it, flush with the silicone. Her shocked eyes darted back and forth between the ring and his solemn expression. Emotions flooded her chest, tears sprang to her eyes, and she covered her mouth with one hand to hold back the sob.
