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Shit. Shit. Shit.
“Daisy?” Gwen urges, and when I see the concerned look in her eyes, something inside me just snaps. I know I could play it off as a one-night stand or a short affair with a random New York man and Gwen would understand, but it just doesn’t feel…right.
It’s time for the truth—or, at least, the closest version of it I’m willing to tell before my citizenship is settled.
“Technically, I’m at his place. Our place. Well, our place temporarily.”
Gwen just stares back at me through the camera. Clearly, I’ve confused her so much, she doesn’t even know what questions to ask.
“I guess now it’s time to tell you that I have some news,” I state, and nervous laughter bubbles up from my lungs.
“I’ll say.”
“So… uh…as you know…I’m…uh…living in New York now.”
“Yes. We’ve established that.” Her brow furrows in a way I know is more accusatory than confused. “You told me about the move when I got back from the cruise—I remember the conversation specifically. What I don’t remember is any mention of a man, any man, and certainly not one that you’re living with in New York.”
“Well, it’s a crazy story…” I pause, trying to explain without Gwen focusing on the fact that I’m a big fat liar.
“I’m waiting on pins and needles here, darling.”
“So…that was Flynn…and Flynn is…” I pause again and swallow against the Sahara Desert that has migrated into my throat. “Flynn is…my husband.”
Outright shock makes her jaw drop like one of those clowns at a mini golf course. “I’m sorry…did you just say husband? As in, till death do us part, grow old and die, one man for the rest of your life husband?”
“She definitely said husband.”
Those words aren’t mine, and they definitely aren’t Gwen’s. Eyes wide, I look up from the screen of my phone to find Flynn looking at me with a laid-back smile, as if it’s no big deal that we’ve just dropped a nuclear bomb of truth in the kitchen.
“My Daisy…my strong, big-hearted, independent, doesn’t need a man Daisy is married?”
I look between Gwen and Flynn, and all I can do is nod.
“Daisy! What?! How? I need to know all the details, and I need to know them now. Seventy years of men flowing in and out of my life, and I can’t imagine committing to one of them. And, what? You found someone to do it with in the Yellow Pages? Fill me in here.”
Between one breath and the next, my phone is out of my hands and Flynn’s face is filling Gwen’s end of the camera line.
“Hi, Gwen,” he greets her, still flipping shirtless and only wearing a towel. “I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m sure you know our Daisy is a bit of a talker.”
Our Daisy?
“That she is.” Gwen smiles through a startled laugh. “Though, she doesn’t seem to be doing a whole lot of it right now.” My cheeks flame, and I move farther out of the camera frame of the call. Oh God. “Maybe you can explain to me how you fit in here—a whole husband I didn’t even know about.”
“I’m Flynn Winslow,” he says without a hint of nervousness in his voice. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Gwen. I know this must be confusing and concerning for you, but I think you’ll understand best if I explain it this way—I’ve never in my life met a woman like Daisy, and I doubt I ever will again. She’s the kind of person you don’t forget, and given the opportunity, she’s the kind of person you don’t let go. Understand?”
“Well, this is quite the surprise,” Gwen comments, in a way that, to me, is completely nonsensical, a tiny shimmer of tears in her eyes, and Flynn smiles.
“It was for my family too.”
“I can’t decide if I’m mad at Daisy for not telling me anything or happy for her. Or maybe both.”
What the hell? I mean, that’s it? She’s just done with the questions?
“I think you’re probably just happy for me!” I blurt out loud enough for her to hear, too relieved to give my inner skeptic any credence.
“I think I am too, but I also think you have a lot to tell me,” Gwen responds, but I take heart in the fact that I can sense a smile in her voice.
“Before I make you give the phone back to Daisy, I have a few questions for you, Flynn.”
He nods.
“Are you taking good care of my girl?”
“Always.”
“Are you financially stable?”
He smiles. “Yes.”
“Any criminal background?”
He shakes his head. “No, ma’am.”
“What if I told you I was going to hire a private investigator to do a secret background check on you?”
“I’d tell you to give him my number and address, and I’d be more than happy to give him all the information he needs.”
“I think I like you, Flynn Winslow,” Gwen eventually responds. “I’m not too happy that you and my Daisy got married without telling me, but I might be able to let that slide.”
