“And you nearly burned your eyebrows off in the process.”
Dalton let out a loud laugh. “Yeah. And nearly set my mom’s azaleas on fire. She wasticked.”
We both laughed at the sweet-and-sour memory. “You didn’t let me bring the kids to see,” I murmured, a soft curve to my lips. “They wanted to see more fireworks, but you didn’t want me to bring them.”
“I—I was worried about their safety. I’d never shot off fireworks before. I’d have felt horrible if something happened.”
We both knew that hadn’t been why. He hadn’t wanted them there to distract me from him. “Do you remember Junie asking you to help her pull her last tooth?” I asked instead, staring into my ice cream as I stirred through the swirls. “It was loose in the back of her mouth, and she couldn’t reach it.”
Dalton immediately cringed. “I still can’t believe sheasked me to help with that. What, was I supposed to stick my entire hand in her mouth?”
I smiled again, because Dalton’s expression ofewwas the exact same as it’d been last year. Disgust that she’d even ask such a thing. “You just get a washcloth, wet it under warm water, and twist,” I told him, remembering. “It’s not hard.”
I hadn’t done it, though. Jamie had. Gentle Jamie had helped Junie twist off her tooth because I’d been too squeamish, and had cheered with her when they’d gotten it. Jamie had been there for Ivy, too, when she’d fallen at the park two years ago and had broken her wrist. He’d calmed her down, told her he’d be the first to sign her cast. And he had, too. He’d signed his name with a heart for the dot of his i, and Ivy had giggled that it was girly of him. He’d told her,I thought you would like it.
I had tons of memories of Jamie with the kids, and Nellie, too, but none of Dalton. We’d dated for two years, but I couldn’t remember a single sweet interaction he’d had with them.
“Last year,” I began, lifting my head. “Last summer. How did I do it?”
“Do what?”
“Balance everything. Time with you, time with Jamie and Nell, time with the kids.” I forced a scoop of ice cream into my mouth. “I don’t remember it feeling this hard.”I don’t remember feeling this unhappy.
Dalton frowned a little. “I don’t know, DD. You don’t seem any different this year than lastyear.”
I looked at him a little quizzically, because the difference feltobvious. “No?”
“You’re struggling, though?” Dalton’s eyes lit up. “Is it Jamie?”
It’s everything, I thought.My world feels like it’s imploding. Can’t you see?Instead, I said, “You wish.”
“It’s the kids?” he guessed again.
I thought about the way Mom had looked at me—how all the kids had looked at me. My stomach tightened. “I kinda… snapped today. I told Mom I didn’t want to watch the kids anymore.”
Dalton leaned over and nudged my shoulder. “I’m proud of you.”
“Proud?” My fingers tightened around my spoon, and something in my chest sort of caved. “I shouldn’t have said it. It was a horrible thing to say.”
“No, what’s horrible is her dumping all the responsibilities on you these past five years.”
My jaw actually dropped. “She had to work?—”
“Still doesn’t make it fair.” A dribble of ice cream slid down his wrist as his eyes met mine. “You know why last year felt easier? You still had the promise of escape. You hadn’t fully given up on NYU yet.”
The anger only lasted a moment, though, before it felt pointless. All at once, a lot of things did. I knew he had to be partly right. Without the thought of NYU, without my comforting mantra, there’d been no defuser to my bomb.
That still didn’t make it right, though. The way I’d yelled was nothing to beproud of. Jamie wouldn’t have been horrified with me, but Jamiewouldn’t have patted me on the back either. He would’ve been calm and reassuring.Everyone snaps sometimes, he’d say.It’s okay, Daze.
“Daisy, I need to ask you something.” Dalton turned toward me, then, eyes only on me. He had ice cream smudged beneath his lower lip. “I mean, I don’t know how much you’ll care, but I just… I want to throw it out there.”
Daisy. Not DD. “What is it?”
“I’ve been thinking about it—for a while, I guess. A few months. Batting the idea around in my head, thinking it’s a good one, it’s a bad one?—”
“Dalton, spit it out.”
“What if I didn’t go back to ASU in the fall?” Dalton’s fingers gripped his cone so tightly that it cracked. “What if I transferred my credits to Fenton County Community?”
