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"Maybe you're right. Maybe something's broken inside me," he said, hoisting the drink toward the women and nodding his thanks. "It's my mother's fault. It's always a parent's fault, right?"
Daisy nodded. "I'm screwed up because of my dad. Yeah, it's always someone else's fault. That's my MO."
"She never told me about my dad and then she leaves me that cryptic plea while on her deathbed. I thought I was happy. I tried to make the thing with Marcie make sense, but a piece inside me was missing."
"You definitely couldn't fill it with that crazy. Maybe you're trying to fill it with someone and that's the problem. You don'tneeda woman. Youneedto find this guy who made the sperm donation, blow that town, and come stay with me. Fill the hole with work. You need to create beauty for this shitty world. Stop teaching snot-nosed rich kids and focus on your art.”
But he didn't want to focus on his work or move to Houston. He wanted to stay in Magnolia Bend. With Abigail. It wasn't the same as it had been with the other women. There was something different between them, something more. It was as if they both needed each other. When he was with Abigail-hell, even when he wasn't with her-he felt as if he'd found where he was supposed to fit.
But that was crazy.
Maybe Daisy had it right-he needed to get on with his life. He'd probably subconsciously attached himself to Abigail, glomming on to her as an additional reason to stay in Magnolia Bend, imprinting his desire to belong to a mixed-up emotional woman who was an integral part of the community. What he felt wasn't real love, just a misplaced need to know his father.
Or something like that.
After all, he hadn't taken psychology in college and had only a few episodes of talk shows to base that assumption on.
"I like Magnolia Bend," he muttered.
Daisy snorted, her nose piercings catching in the light reflecting off the bar. "Why in the hell would you stay in some backwoods Louisiana town when you could be here working with me? Or, hell, you could open your own studio and get a shit ton of contract work.”
"I don't know. MaybeI need to settle into my career more," he said, concluding that Daisy, while fun to hang with for a weekend, didn't understand him well enough for him to trust her advice. Daisy had already shifted her attention to the woman at the end of the bar, who was nursing the beer Daisy had bought her. The blonde wore a shirt thin enough to reveal she wore no bra. Daisy loved hot lonely women and chances were if the blonde played for Daisy's team, he'd be heading to her apartment alone.
Two hours later, he went to Daisy's apartment alone. He met Daisy and Felicia, the hot blonde, for breakfast the next morning before heading to Magnolia Bend.
"Forget that chick," Daisy yelled as he reversed out of the drive. With a wave, he left, heading east, ready to focus more on finding the man who had fathered him and less on his heart.
But when he saw Abigail outside the teachers' lounge Monday morning, trying to carry too many empty tissue boxes, his vows went out the window. Her scent crashed into him, awakening hunger, and totally destroying the crap he'd told himself that weekend.
"Oops," Abigail muttered, scrambling to catch the box falling from the top.
"Here," he said, grabbing the plummeting boxes and taking another from the top of the stack. "Let me help you with these."
Abigail straightened, as the lounge door shut behind her. For a full second she froze like an animal catching the scent of a predator... or like a woman who hadn't expected to face her whatever-he'd-been to-her first thing in the morning.
"Uh, thanks," she said, her gaze shifting left then right... but not falling on him. Like she couldn't stomach looking at him.
"Sure," he said, turning so he stood beside her. No need to act like two teenagers who had just broken up. They were both adults. Ones who had agreed to stop meeting for secret hookups. No big deal. He shoved the hunger for Abigail into its cage and allowed reason to take its place. "So where are we going with these?"
"Uh, the lower school building. Mrs. Dyson's room. I'm subbing for the morning." Her words sounded like an apology.
They started walking. Abigail looked about as comfortable as a missionary in a whorehouse while he pretended this was any other meeting. Just a normal day for two people who were acquaintances, nothing more.
"How was the wedding?" he asked, playing his part.
"Oh, very nice. Shelby looked pretty and John smiled a lot."
"I would hope so." He toed open the door leading to the walkway between the buildings, smiling at a few students standing outside. Two rushed to open the door of the adjacent building. Not snot-nosed brats. Just good kids.
"How was your weekend?" she asked, dutifully playing her role, too. Nothing to see here. We're both just fine.
"I went to Houston to see a friend. She's doing some work for one of the big places downtown and they were unveiling the sculpture."
"She?" Abigail asked, turning toward him before addressing the students. ''Thanks, Lauren and Jordan."
The students waved and jogged toward their friends, leaving him and Abigail alone.
"Daisy Reynolds. She's becoming well-known in art circles. Lots of lucrative contracts so I made her buy the drinks."
