Vic Vaughn is Vicious by J.A. Huss

CHAPTER TEN - DAISY

Would I like a truck?

He can go shove his truck right up his ass.

I don’t need his truck. I’m not late. I’m early. My final doesn’t even start until ten. I’m just meeting some classmates in the library before the test so we can do last-minute cramming. I mean, does he think I’m just some seat-of-her-pants girl?

I was late getting to his house because Vivi and I stopped off at Beaver’s Market to pick up her little cell phone. I programmed it on the way down Mountain Avenue.

It’s just… insulting. The way he shows up out of nowhere and starts acting like he’s some prince or something.

I almost guffaw out loud as I cross Laurel and head across campus towards the library. Truck.

This makes me so angry, I’m still thinking about it when I go up to the second floor where my study group is and plop my shit down on the table.

“What’s up with you, sister?” Ella is a cheerleader. An honest-to-God cheerleader. I have actually never known a real-life cheerleader until I met Ella in my required PE class two semesters ago because I went to school way out in the country. It was literally one room, we had a grand total of thirty-two kids, and we all came from dairy farms. The dairy cow is to Weld County, Colorado what aspen trees are to Vail. Or something like that.

Ella is a stereotype in many ways. She is cute, she is blonde, she is tiny, she is flexible, and she is perky. She’s not dumb though. And she’s not stuck-up. So I like her. I also answer her. The whole story comes spilling out and all three of my new-adult women friends are captivated by my real-life problems as they gingerly nibble on their muffins or croissants and drink their seven-dollar lattes.

They are all under twenty. They have no clue what my life is like. They live in dorms and their evenings are spent partying or fucking boys. They do not have childcare bills and they do not pay their own tuition.

So I’m like… kinda cool in their eyes. I think they look up to me.

But when I mention the name Vicious Vaughn, they go speechless.

“I know,” I moan. “I know. It was a total lapse in judgment. And I never talked to him again until—”

“Whoa,” Luu says, putting both hands up in a full-stop motion, her brown eyes going wide. She’s the real jock, not Ella. Luu plays… hell, everything. Tennis, soccer, volleyball. She’s Sporty Spice in our little girl group. She was also in that same PE class with me. “Hold the fuck on, Daisy. Are you telling us that you banged Vic Vaughn seven years ago and now he’s your baby daddy?”

All three girls look at each other with mouths open.

I sigh. Again. “Yep. I don’t know what I was thinking. I mean—”

“No, no, no,” Rina says. Rina would be… is there a Rocker Spice? I don’t think so. But that’s who Rina would be. I’m like a hundred percent positive that Vic has had his hands on Rina at some point—probably several times, because she’s got at least four visible tattoos. “You do not regret this, Daisy.”

“Oh, hell yes, I do. Vic Vaughn? Come on, ladies.” I tap my head. “Use your brains. He’s not father material.”

“Father material?” Luu says. Then they all laugh. Loud. So loud, other tables of studying students start shooting us dirty looks.

Finally, Ella calms down enough to speak. “Daisy. Come on, girl. You won the jackpot.”

“How do you figure? He took her to an AA meeting to steal donuts, Ella. And have you ever been to their house?”

“Oh, my God.” Luu sighs. “I have tried to get into one of their parties my entire college career. They card people at the hedges.”

“I got past once,” Rina says. She high-fives Ella. “It was amazing.”

I clap my hands between my words. “Attention, young fertile ladies. Eyes up here.” I do the two-finger point to my eyeballs. “Let me give you some motherly advice. And you need to listen carefully. When you start thinking about having children you do not choose a biker tattoo artist who lives in a falling-down mansion and thinks his offer of a truck that looks like it was born back in the nineteen sixties counts as reliable transportation for a mother and child!”

“Oh, hell yes, we do!” Rina exclaims.

“Bitch,” Ella says, “I’m not even into the tats, but I would have Vic Vaughn’s baby any day of the week.”

“Mmmm,” Luu says, fanning herself with her notes. “I’d even take the fucking dad. He’s hot for an old man.”

“I can’t,” I say, shaking my head and leaning back in my chair. “I just can’t talk to you people. You have no idea what a bad choice he was.”

“I don’t know,” Rina says. “I mean, I get they come off all crazy—”

“Come off crazy? No, Rina. They are crazy. The gramps was shooting BBs at the police last night when they went over there to find my daughter.”

“He bought me coffee once.” Luu laughs. “He was having a senior moment downtown while I was in line at the FoCo Theater. I sat with him out front until the pops came and picked him up in a dragon sidecar.” She huffs out a laugh, like she’s picturing it in her head.

“OK.” I put up both hands. “You guys are not hearing me. All of this is cute and funny until your daughter is one of them and gets to spend the night.”

“Holy shit, did she spend the night there?” Rina asks. “Are you gonna spend the night there?”

“Can I come?” Ella is begging with her hands. “Please!”

“No. She’s not spending the night there. Yet. But she will. He’s gonna get all possessive over her. Start demanding his weekends or whatever.”

“I think you’re overreacting,” Ella says. “My older sister once dated Vic—”

“Holy shit, my older sister did too!” Rina says. They high-five again.

“Oh, my God. I can’t take this. I gotta go.”

“What?” Luu exclaims. “You can’t leave now. We need more details!”

“And the final doesn’t even start for another thirty minutes,” Ella adds.

I grab my backpack. “I’m going to call Vivi and make sure she’s OK. I’ll see you guys in class.” And then I walk away before they can say any more flattering things about the stupid Vaughn family.

I leave the library and walk across campus to the ag building. But I don’t call Vivi. I just go into the dark empty room and sit down to wait for the final. Because I literally just walked away from them less than an hour ago. She is fine and if I turn into that mother, I will not only hate myself later, but that’s who I will become to Vic. Right now, he doesn’t know me at all. I am some random girl from his past. No different than Ella’s or Rina’s sisters. Women he also banged back in the day.

Vic and I could still end up in court over this. He could try to take her away from me. So how I handle things right now counts. Especially since I didn’t tell him about Vivi from the beginning. That’s already a strike against me, I just know it.

I should be happy that Vivi has a father. I should be happy that he’s even interested in her. He will probably pay child support. And I could use that support, I’m not gonna lie.

As much as it hurts to see the two of them together, enjoying each other’s company and having fun, I need to put those jealous feelings aside and be rational.

But I must keep it in perspective.

He’s not interested in me.

He only wants her.

My ag ec final goes fine and then I have a history final after lunch, and then statistics at four. We’re allowed to use notes and calculators for statistics, so I’m actually fifteen minutes early when I approach the mansion on Mountain Avenue. I’m just about to walk up the driveway when a horn honks and makes me jump.

I look over and see a truck trying to enter the driveway.

Great. It’s the pops. He smiles at me as he pulls his antique truck up and parks diagonally, blocking four other trucks. One is big and black and screams I like mud. That’s Vann’s truck. Everyone in town knows that’s Vann’s truck. It’s the only modern one of the bunch. These Vaughn men sure do like their vintage vehicles.

I linger at the bottom of the driveway, unsure what to do. I was hoping Vic and Vivi would be out front, but they’re not. So I have to go knock on the door.

The door of the newly arrived truck creaks open, then slams. “Lemme guess,” Pops says, narrowing his eyes at me. “Daisy.”

He’s… Vic. Like, I’m talking spitting image, but with gray hair and twenty years older. Except he doesn’t look twenty years older because he’s wearing a white t-shirt that shows off all his muscles and he’s tatted up with… I squint. Battleships, I think. Navy theme. He’s wearing a pair of light-blue tattered jeans and mirrored sunglasses. If I didn’t know he was Vic’s father, I’d peg him at forty-five. Maybe.

“How’d you know it was me?” I ask.

“I heard it all go down in real time last night.” He nods to his truck. “Police scanner.”

Of course he has a police scanner in his truck.

“So. You just gonna stand there, Daisy?”

“Um. No. I’m here to pick up Vivian.”

He rolls his head towards the house. “All right then, let’s go. I can’t wait to meet my newest granddaughter.”

I can’t even process those words so I just pretend I never heard them.

We walk up the porch steps and I can immediately hear Vivi’s voice from inside. Pops chuckles for a moment, his hand on the screen door knob. But he pauses to look at me and smiles. “She sounds just like the others.”

“What do you mean?”

“Her voice. She sounds like a Vaughn.”

I nod. What else can I do? I just want to get my daughter and get the hell out of here.

He holds the door open for me and I enter first.

I’ve been in here, obviously. But that was seven years ago and it was a very short trip from the front door to the stairs and I wasn’t paying attention to anything but Vic’s ass at the time, so I quickly scoot out of the way because I don’t know where to go.

This first room is huge. But it’s also weird. Is it a dining room? Is it a foyer? Is it a living room? I can’t tell. There’s a bench where countless motorcycle helmets are piled. A rack holding at least a dozen leather jackets. A dining table directly in front of me that looks big enough to seat twelve, but it’s hard to tell because there are no chairs. And, if that wasn’t confusing enough, there’s a giant TV on one end of the room and an open bedroom door on the other.

“Vicious!” Pops calls. “Your lady’s here.” He yells the first part loud but he’s looking at me for the second part and it comes out soft.

I say nothing.

Gramps appears first. “Lucille! So nice to see you again!” He comes over, takes my hand, kisses my knuckles, then looks me in the eyes. Squints. “You’re not Lucille.”

“No, Gramps.” I look up and Vic is standing under an arch that leads to a hallway. “This is Daisy. She’s Vivi’s mom.”

“My mom,” Vivi says, pushing her way past Vic. “’Member? I told you about her?”

“Oh, yeah,” Gramps says, not paying any attention to me at all.

“Well, who is this?” Pops walks over to Vivi and kneels down. “Is this Rory?”

“Who?”

“No, no. Let me guess. Don’t tell me. You’re… Belle.”

“Nooo,” Vivi laughs.

“Jasmine?”

“No!”

“Ariel?”

“No!” she squeals. “You’re wrong, wrong, wrong!”

At first, I’m annoyed at this. But then I get it. This man has a whole pack of beautiful little granddaughters who look just like Vivi and he’s teasing her. And reminding me of this fact.

“You’re… Cindy?”

“I’m Vivian.”

“Vivian?” Pops looks over at me and smiles. “Nice name, Vivian. I’m very pleased to meet you.” Then he offers her his hand and they shake.

But he knows what I did when I named my daughter Vivian. All his kids have names that begin with V. Vic, Vinn, Vonn, Veronica, and Vann.

And now he’s got himself a Vivian.

He stands back up looking proud as punch. Then he turns to me. “Well, Daisy. It’s nice to meet you too. I hope you will not be a stranger.” Then he nods his head at Vic. “I had quite the weekend, so I’m beat. I’ll be in the basement.” And then he disappears down another hallway.

I look at Vic, ready to get the fuck out of here.

But before I can make my getaway, Vivi says, “Do you want to see my bedroom, Mommy?”

Bedroom? She has a bedroom?

“It’s not what you think,” Vic says.

“No?” Remain calm, Daisy. Do not make a scene.

“No. My nieces have had a room here for almost fifteen years.”

“Come on, Mommy,” Vivi says, grabbing my hand and dragging me towards the massive set of polished wooden stairs that are steep and slippery enough to make me worry about breaking my neck should I fall. “I’ll show you.”

There is no good way out of this, so what can I do? I follow her.

We climb up to the second floor—which is massive—and walk into the first room facing the stairs. All four walls are painted with a mural of a pack of princesses and a whole herd of unicorns. There is a castle, there is a forest, there are billowing clouds on the ceiling with a night sky behind them dotted with pinprick stars.

There are also three sets of bunkbeds, four wardrobes, a thick shaggy white rug, and flowy curtains blowing in the breeze that lead to a balcony which overlooks the unkempt backyard.

“Isn’t it amazing?” Vivi is breathless with awe. “And look! I got so many goldfish we had to get a giant tank!”

And sure enough, there it is. Her dream goldfish tank. Thirty gallons? More? I can count fifteen goldfish in there. And it’s got plants, and bright pink rocks, and a shimmering castle big enough for the fish to swim through.

The entire thing is a little girl’s fantasy room. Hand-painted walls. Luxurious bedding. Fluffy decorative pillows. All the wood is vintage white. Like every single piece was hunted down in a flea market, then brought back to life by careful, attentive hands.

I look at Vic and my stomach sinks.

He shakes his head at me. Not a big shake. Not a warning. “It’s not what you think. My sister did this. But there is one extra bed.” He nods to one of the bunks. “Oliver sleeps in the basement with Pops and Cindy has a crib in the nursery. So there’s plenty of room for Vivi.”

“How many bedrooms do you people have?” It comes out… nasty. I didn’t mean it that way, but I can’t take it back now.

“Ten,” Vic says, “altogether. But three of them are up there.” He nods to the third floor. “That’s where Vann and Belinda live. That one’s mine.” He nods to another door on the other side of the stairs. Double doors, actually. Must be nice. “Vinn and Vonn have that wing up those stairs.” He nods to an almost-hidden set of stairs tucked into a corner. I can only see four steps up before it curves and disappears. “And Gramps is on the first floor.”

“Where are you gonna sleep, Mommy?”

I look at Vivi and sigh.

“Hey,” Vic says. “Who’s hungry?” He looks at me. “Wanna stay for dinner?”

Do I want to stay for dinner?

No. I want to go home, get in my crappy, shallow, student-apartment bathtub, and cry my eyes out. Because I can’t compete with these people.

And that’s pretty fucking sad. Because they are a clan of tattoo-artist bikers who collect decrepit trucks and live in the eyesore of Fort Collins and still they are so much better off than we are.

“Hey, sis?” Vic says. Oh, God. He already has his own nickname for her. “Go help Gramps with dinner. We’ll be down in a minute.”

“OK!” Vivi scampers off towards the stairs.

She is so clueless. And why should she care how I’m feeling in this moment? In her eyes, she has won the jackpot.

“Daisy?”

“What?”

“I know what you’re thinking.”

“No. I don’t think you do.”

“I get it. It’s… a lot. But this… I didn’t do this. None of it, to be honest. Veronica wanted the girls to have their own bedroom when they stay here. This was her room when she was a kid. I didn’t do this.”

I want to say all the right things. I want to smile, and play it off like this is no big deal, and be happy for my daughter. I want to see this whole thing through the eyes of Luu, and Ella, and Rina. I want to be excited about it.

But I just feel sad.

“And, speaking of Veronica,” Vic continues, “she called me today. She wants to know if you would like to drop Vivi off during the week while you’re busy with school and work.”

Spencer’s offer of money last night comes back to me. And I can’t take it anymore. I walk over to one of the bunk beds, sit down, and put my head in my hands.

“Daisy?”

I do not look up at him. I just stare at my feet. “What?”

“She’s a stay-at-home mom. Like, that’s literally her life. She loves it. She’s better than whoever you have babysitting Viv, because she’s her aunt, ya know?”

I understand this. It’s logical. And I have no doubt that Veronica Vaughn-Shrike is a top-notch mother. I’ve seen her kids around town. They are hard to miss. They walk around downtown in their little Catholic school uniforms like they own the place. Hell, they almost do. Their mother’s side of the family is Sick Boyz, their father’s side is Shrike Bikes. And I know they are somehow connected to the Fort Collins Theater, because they were always hanging out there after school last spring.

“Daisy?”

“I can’t think about this right now.”

“OK. But you’ll stay for dinner? Vivi is excited. She and Gramps came up with the menu. And I promise, it’s not SpaghettiOs.”

I smile, despite myself. Vivi was very excited about her trip into white-trash dinners yesterday. God, that’s horrible of me. I ate SpaghettiOs when I was her age. It was all we could afford for a few years there when things were tight.

“Are you gonna talk to me?”

I take a deep breath. “I want to, Vic. I do. I want to talk about all of it. But I can’t.” I look up at him, begging him to just… stop. “I need… I need to think about this.”

“Right. I get it. But come downstairs, we’ll eat, and then I’ll drop you guys off at home. Oh.” He smiles at me and then reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a tag. “I got you a permit. So now you can take the truck.”

I just stare at the mirror tag in his hand, then shake my head. “I need another permit to park it in the family housing apartments.”

“What? What the fuck, man? That place is trying to keep you poor. Well, I’ll get that one tomorrow morning. I don’t have any clients until three.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I know. I want to do that.”

“Vivi doesn’t mind walking.”

“I know that too. She told me herself. But I don’t want you walking, Daisy. You don’t have to keep the truck. Those old trucks are kind of an acquired taste. But I’m a pretty good mechanic and my friend Bobby, he runs a garage on the north side of town. I had him pick up your car from your apartments today. He’s gonna fix it for you. But you need a new transmission, so it’s gonna be a little bit. Oh, and can you give me your car keys? He needs them.”

“You picked up my car?”

He doesn’t say anything. He can hear the irritation in my voice. And I get it. I should be gushing with appreciation. But I just feel like… like he has taken over our life.

Our life. As in mine. As in Vivi’s. As in the girls in this house with the last name of Lundin, not Vaughn.

“We could take a drive up there after dinner, if you want.”

“Up where?”

“Ronnie’s house. It’s in Bellvue. They have a farm.”

Now I really want to cry.

“Or… not,” Vic adds quickly. “Yeah. Let’s not. Let’s have dinner so Vivi can stay happy. Then I’ll drop you off at home. Like I said, I don’t have clients until three tomorrow. What’s your schedule look like?”

“I have lunch and dinner shifts.” I’m still looking at my feet. And I feel like a pouty teenager, but if I look up at him, I will cry. I just know it. And I refuse to cry in front of Vic Vaughn.

“OK, well, how about this? I’ll pick you girls up in the morning, we’ll go out and see Veronica and the nieces, you can figure out if you’re comfortable with her watching Viv or not, then I’ll have you back in town for your shift. Sound good?”

I swallow hard and nod, trying my best to rally. Then I fish through my purse, hand him my car keys, and say, “Sure. I think I can handle that.”

“OK. Cool. Let’s go eat then.” He walks towards the door, his heavy biker boots thudding on the hardwood floors.

I take a deep breath and force myself to rally. I’m good at it now. I’ve been rallying like a champion for an entire year.

And when I stand up, I’m smiling.

We go downstairs to the kitchen and find the entire Vaughn family—even Pops, despite his claim of being tired—sitting in the mismatched chairs at the table waiting on us, and I don’t even freak out. I’m calm.

I keep the charade up until we’re done. All the way home in Vic’s truck. All the way inside the apartment. All the way through Vivi’s bath, storytime, and kiss goodnight.

But when all that is over, I am lost.

I have no idea what’s going to happen, I just know one thing for certain—my relationship with my daughter will never be the same again.