26
daisy
* * *
I was grateful for my mother’s help, even if I moped around the whole time and barely was able to show it. I should have been filled with sunshine and rainbows because the shop had stayed open even after Oliver had left, but I couldn’t summon anything beyond a dark raincloud so there were no rainbows in sight.
“Why don’t you just go to the city and see him?”
“Huh?” I had tuned her out a while ago, instead absorbed in my own self-pity, my sole focus on decorating today’s specialty cupcakes.
“Oliver. Why don’t you just drive up to see him, sort this mess out once and for all? Clearly, your miss the man.”
“I do, but it’s not that simple. We don’t work, mum.”
“Oh.” There was something in her tone that had my attention, “So you’ve spoken to him about this?” She was standing at the counter, preparing the till for the day’s trading.
“What’s the point, he’s back in the city.”
“Is he?” Was she going insane, I’d heard it from him directly and I had no reason to think he was lying to me. Monday he’d left to go back to the city to see his doctor and boss. By now, he was probably back on duty, with Fosford and I just being bittersweet memories of the past. So yes, of course, he was back in the city. “Daisy, can you come here for a moment, I have something you need to see.”
“Mum,” I was growing increasingly frustrated by the interruptions, she’d already made me sit down with her for a cup of tea before we even got started and now this, I just wanted to ice some freaking cakes and feel sorry for myself for a while. “What is it?” I snap at her and immediately feel guilty, which is only made worse when I see the smile spreading wide across her face. Without a word, she steps aside to reveal Oliver sitting on one of the counter side stools.
“Ollie, what are you doing here?” My heart begins to race, as I hold my breath waiting for his answer.
“I wanted to order twenty cupcakes.”
“Why here, though? Don’t they have cupcakes in the city?”
“Yeah, I can’t see why they wouldn’t but they won’t get me a date with you, now would they?”
“What are you really doing here?” I was skeptical of the reason he was back, was this a fly by night visit again where he was already planning his next exit strategy.
“I told you, I have twenty cupcakes to go before you can’t refuse a date with me, I’ve come to cash in.”
Mum smiles at him before excusing herself to go back into the kitchen, where the oven alarm had begun to sing for attention.
“How long are you here for this time?” I folded my arms across my chest, aware that in doing so my tits are pushed higher in my already tight t-shirt. Oliver notices as well.
“Does it matter?”
“Of course it does.”
“Why?”
“Why? Because every time you leave it feels like another layer of my flesh is removed with a vegetable peeler.” My voice betrays the emotion I was trying to contain, “When are you expected back in the city, Ollie?”
Instead of offering any type of solid indicator he merely shrugs before flashing me a cheeky smile. His coy act making my blood boil. This toing and froing with his periodic popping back into Fosford was playing games with my head and heart. He needed to go and stay gone or stay and not go.
“Are you not going to give me a straight answer?”
“Are you not going to serve me my cupcakes?”
“Argh, fine. Why do you have to be so damn difficult Oliver Coxen?”
“Daisy!” I hear Mum scold me from the kitchen, “That is no way to speak to your customers.”
I rub my temples before turning away to go and arrange Oliver’s order on plates.
* * *
Oliver sits and watches for the entire time he has the cupcakes in front of him. Mum makes a special effort and dotes on him while batches of cakes bake. She had always had a soft spot for Oliver and that spot clearly hadn’t hardened over time.
“I’ll pick you up at seven tomorrow.” Victorious, Oliver shows me the empty patty pan of the last cupcake, balling it up before slamming it back onto the plate. Standing up he raises his arms above his head like he was Rocky Balboa and had just climbed all those stairs, his grin, however, was like the Cheshire Cat.
“Humble in victory as always I see, Oliver.” Mum rests her hip against the doorway to the kitchen with her arms crossed and a matching smile on her face.
“Victory is Sweet, Mrs. Sweet.” His pun was intended, it was written all over his gorgeous smug face.
She laughs at his joke, only encouraging him more before leaving me alone again with Oliver.
“See you at seven, Daisy Blossom.” With that, he walked out of the shop.
* * *
It had run through my mind to pretend to not be home at seven, I could hide my car in the backyard and leave the lights off, I wanted to hide under the bed covers and just wait it out till Oliver left again, he avoided telling me when that was going to be so I didn’t know how long I would have to hide. Mentally, I made a list of canned foods and how many candles and rolls of toilet paper I would need to buy whilst I was closing up the shop.
I would need to add cat food and litter to that list if I was going to hide, realising when I got home and Munchkin met me at the door.
* * *
My curiosity had me curling my hair and carefully applying my make-up, it had me pulling out multiple pieces of clothing from my wardrobe and matching them with my different pairs of heels before I finally decided on a pair of skinny jeans, a plain singlet and my favourite crop leather jacket. Fastening the white gold necklace my parents had brought me for my twenty-first birthday, was the final touch I needed, the infinity symbol hanging precociously against my collarbone.
* * *
I heard Oliver’s car rumble into the driveway right on seven o’clock. Shortly after the car falls silent there is a sharp wrap on my door. Giving myself another quick once over before rushing to answer the door to him. Pulling it open reveals Oliver, but not the Oliver I had always known, this Oliver had my mouth hanging open and my tongue ready to roll to the floor.
“Fuck!” He was dressed in a pair of perfectly fitted dark jeans and knitted jumper that clung to him as if it were a second skin, defining every muscle in his chest. His hair was styled perfectly, slick and combed to the side. It was actually beyond perfection, I had a sudden urge to run my hands through it and mess it up.
“That is exactly what I was thinking. Daisy Blossom, you look fucking beautiful. Just wow.” Reaching forward to hand me a bunch of handmade paper flowers, the spray of colours was amazing.
“Thank you.” I held them to my chest, “They are perfect.”
“I’m glad you like them.” His smile brightens.
“I’ll just pop these,” Looking down at them I realise how silly it was to say I’d put them in water. I’m so pleased Oliver didn’t bring cut flowers, so these paper ones were not just perfect but thoughtful as well. “Ah, inside.”