Vic Vaughn is Vicious by J.A. Huss

CHAPTER ELEVEN - VIC

The next morning Daisy and Vivi are waiting for me in the parking lot of their apartments. I pull up the truck up and then lean over and open the passenger door. Vivi scoots in first, sitting in the middle of the bench seat.

Daisy hesitates. “Is this… legal?”

“Is what legal?”

She points to Vivi sitting in the center. “That.”

“We have a seatbelt, Daisy. She was wearing one last night when I dropped you off.”

“Right. I’m aware. But that was a few blocks over. This is a trip up to Bellvue. So is it legal?”

I sigh. “I guess. I mean, I’ve never been stopped and I’ve put two nieces in this cab plenty of times.”

“I’m not trying to be a witch, I’m just trying to get the facts.”

“Understood.” I hold up a finger, pull out my phone, and do a search for bench seat safety laws in Colorado. “Well. I can’t find anything specific, so I’m gonna go with legal. But if it makes you feel any better, how about you and Viv change places so she can have the shoulder belt?”

“Aww,” Vivi complains. “But I wanted to sit next to you.”

Daisy’s face falls when these words come out of Vivian’s mouth. And I don’t blame her. I’m the new, shiny thing and she’s the one who’s done all the work. If I were her, I would hate me too.

I pat Vivi’s knee. “Scoot out, child. Your mom’s gonna sit in the middle so you can have the safest safety belt.”

“That’s dumb,” Viv complains. But she moves.

Daisy slides in, and then pulls the shoulder belt over our daughter. Then she belts herself in and settles back into the seat rest. “OK, we’re ready.”

This is when it occurs to me that Daisy doesn’t talk much. Or no. That’s probably not right. She just hasn’t said much to me. She did a lot of listening last night, and Vivi talked enough for ten people, but Daisy was quiet.

I pull away and we start heading north towards Ronnie’s farmhouse. “So. What are you studying in school?”

“Cows,” Vivi says.

But at the same time Daisy says, “Ag business.”

“Huh. Cows and ag business. That’s… cool. But highly unusual.”

“Not really,” Daisy says. “This is CSU. Half the kids there grew up on ranches. Weld County is the dairy farm capital of Colorado.”

“Dairy cows. Interesting.” And then it hits me. Her costume that year. Milkmaid. I have to turn my head so I can smile big without Daisy seeing me. She really is a milkmaid. And those jokes about her jugs? I suddenly remember more of that night. And dammit, it was fun. After we fucked the first few times, we drank some more beer, and joked around and laughed. There was more sex too. Different sex.

“Why is that interesting?”

“Because despite living across the freeway from the dairy cow capital of Colorado, I do not know a single dairy farmer.”

I catch a slight chuckle from Daisy. Maybe I will crack her yet.

“Yes, you do,” Vivi says. “Us.”

“You have a dairy farm?”

Daisy opens her mouth to answer, but Vivi beats her to it. “No. Not anymore.” Then she sighs very loudly and crosses her arms, suddenly grumpy.

“We sold it last year,” Daisy says quietly.

“Oh. OK. But you’re still going to school to be a dairy farmer?”

“I dropped out in sophomore year, so.” She shrugs, her shoulders bumping into mine. “I didn’t want to lose a whole year of classes, so I kept the major and now I’m really just going to focus on the business side instead of the animal side.”

“So you want to run a dairy farm when you’re done?”

“We’ll see.”

OK then. I’m getting the hint that Daisy is not interested in sharing her hopes and dreams with me. So I move on. “Do you like living on campus?”

And once again, these two girls say two different things. Vivi says, “No. We hate it. We want our farm back.”

But Daisy says, “Yes. I love it. Getting that apartment was a stroke of amazing good luck.”

I’m on strike two now, so before I ask my next question, I think it through first. “How about you, sis? What do you want to do when you grow up?”

“I want to be a tattoo artist,” Vivi proclaims.

Daisy mutters something under her breath. Swear words, for sure.

But Vivi doesn’t catch it, because she’s still talking. “And don’t forget, Vicious, we still have to have our tattoo art show. You didn’t forget, right? I will show you my notebook.”

That notebook. Vivi forgot it yesterday, so last night I took it up to my room and just stared at Daisy’s drawings. I don’t want to give it back, so I don’t encourage any more talk of that. Viv talks some more about her tattoo ideas. She is partial to flowers and ladybugs. And she proudly takes off her shoe and shows me how she has drawn daisies on her toes.

I expect a pretty big objection from Daisy over this revelation, but she is stoic and silent, staring straight ahead as we make our way east.

I decide my end of the conversation is over. That was definitely strike three.

But soon enough we’re at the front gate to the farm and I’m punching a code to open it.

“Wooooooow,” Vivi says, leaning forward in her seatbelt. “This is amazing.”

Daisy lets out a huff of air as we pull forward onto the dirt road that leads to the house.

“Spencer was so in love with my sister, he changed the name of their road from Private Road Whatever to Bombs A-Way.” I laugh every time I say the name of this dirt road and this time is no different.

“I don’t get it,” Daisy says.

“Oh, right. My sister, Veronica? We call her Ronnie sometimes. So Spencer nicknamed her Ron the Bomb because he said she was an explosion waiting to happen. Get it? Ron the Bomb? Bombs A-Way?”

“That’s funny.” Vivi chuckles.

Daisy says, “Cute.” But the way she says it… I dunno. She hates me, I guess. Not even Bombs A-Way can make her smile.

Suddenly Vivi screams so loud, Daisy and I both jump. “What is that? Is that a pony?”

“Oh, you’re in luck here, sis. These nieces are pony freaks. They have a dozen of them, at least.”

“What?” She squeals this. “No way.”

“Yes, way. You wanna ride one?”

“Do I?” She’s looking at me like a dog begging for a bone. “Heck yeah, I do.”

I park the truck next to Ronnie’s Suburban and turn it off. “If it’s OK with your—”

That’s as far as I get. Vivi is already begging. “Please, please, please!”

“Do you ride, Viv?” I ask.

“I do. I had a pony. Once.” She narrows her eyes and throws her mom a dirty look. I can only assume this is leftover resentment over the sale of their dairy farm.

“OK. Well, let’s go meet everyone and then you can—”

But Vivi already has her belt unbuckled and is jumping out of the truck before I can finish.

Daisy and I follow as I take in the scene. Two of my nieces are riding. I force myself to remember which ones they are because I’ve learned my lesson, and come up with Rory and Ariel, oldest and… lower middle child.

The screen door bangs open and two more girls come spilling out. Belle and Jasmine. Plus Veronica, holding baby Cindy. I expect the kids to run up to greet me, that’s how it usually goes, but they are all focused on Vivian and take off after her.

I look over at Daisy and find her frowning. “Hey.” I nudge her with my elbow. “You OK?”

“Mmhm.” She shoots me a tight-lipped smile. So fake. “Yep. I’m great.” Then she turns to an approaching Veronica and extends her hand. “Hi. I’m Daisy. Vivi’s mom.”

And then Ronnie takes over, ushering her into the house and talking a mile a minute about whatever it is that moms talk about.

I stand there for a moment, wondering which way to go. With Vivi? Or with Daisy?

Neither group of females has any use for me. And Spencer is at work. But suddenly I realize that Oliver is still on the porch watching me from a long, wooden swing.

“You can sit with me,” he says. “I totally get it.”

Poor Oliver. Five sisters. That’s kinda crazy. I sit down next to him and the swing sways for a moment. “Ya know, when I was your age, I really wanted a sister.”

Oliver side-eyes me. “No way.”

“Yeah. Uncle Vinn and Uncle Vonn were best friends and didn’t need me. But when your mom came along, I couldn’t get enough of her. I loved having a baby sister.”

“Oh. Baby sister,” Oliver says. “Yeah. OK. I like the baby.”

“Ya do?” I can’t help but crack a smile.

“Sure. I like Cindy. But Ariel is always too busy for me. And Belle doesn’t like me.”

“That’s not true.”

I get another side-eye for that comment. “And all Rory wants to talk about is her stupid boyfriend.”

“What about Jasmine?”

“Jasmine only cares about her ponies. I like to swim. Why can’t they love swimming? I’m gonna make Cindy a swimmer. Then we won’t need them.” He crosses his arms and huffs.

“Oliver!”

He and I both look over at the barn. Ariel is the one yelling. “What?” he snaps back.

“It’s swim time!”

“Ohhhh!” He jumps up and takes off down the porch steps like I am not even here.

Five. Sisters.

Yeah, I feel for the little dude.

I go inside with the girls and find Ronnie and Daisy sitting at the kitchen table drinking coffee. I sit down on the long bench seat next to Daisy and smile at them. “What’d I miss?”

“Your sister has offered to babysit,” Daisy says quietly.

I study her for a moment. I can tell this is a sore spot with her. But I’m just not sure why. I mean, it’s free. Ronnie loves kids. Vivi is at that low-maintenance stage. And babysitters are fucking expensive. So what is the problem here?

“What’d you say?” I ask.

“I said sure.” Daisy smiles. It’s wide. It’s appropriate, but again, I can sense the tension underneath. “She would love it. I mean…” Daisy pauses. Her smile falters, but only for the smallest of moments, then it’s back. “She loves horses.”

“Oh, then she is gonna love it here!” Ronnie says. “This house is filled with horse-crazy kids.”

“Yeah,” Daisy replies. “She already loves it here. And I see you guys have a pool.”

“Oh, hell yeah. If you have six kids, you gotta have a pool. Hey, this reminds me. We’re having a little get-together next Sunday. You and Vivi will come, won’t you? Then you can meet all my girls.” Ronnie cups a hand to her mouth and whispers, “Grown-up girls,” then winks at Daisy.

“It sounds fun,” Daisy says. Then she pulls out her phone and looks at it. “Well, I have to get back to town. Work.” She shrugs. Another fake smile. “Vivi has all her stuff for the day in her backpack. And she’s got a phone in there. She’s not allergic to anything, so…”

There’s a long moment of awkward silence. Then Ronnie rallies. “OK. Perfect! I’ll have her call you later and report in. And then you can swing by after work and grab her. And it doesn’t even matter what time that is. We have dinner at seven in the summer, so just drop by whenever.”

Daisy gets up from the table. “Thank you so much for this, Ronnie. I really appreciate it.”

“It’s no problem at all. This farm and this family, this is my life. And I’m thrilled—beyond thrilled—that my kids have a little cousin. I hope there are more to come.”

Neither Daisy and I say anything to that.

Ronnie smiles sheepishly. “Sorry. Getting ahead of myself, I guess.”

I put a hand on Daisy’s arm and point her towards the door. Outside, we yell goodbye to Vivi, but she’s too busy with the princesses to do more than wave back at us.

We head home and the silence between us is thick.

“You’re mad,” I say.

“Nope.” She’s not even looking at me. In fact, she’s got her whole body angled towards the passenger window.

“You are, I can tell. Which part of this day pissed you off?”

“I’m not mad, Vic.” She says my name, but she’s still not looking at me. “It’s just a very big change.” More silence. Then, finally, she turns her head in my direction. “Everything is changing.”

“Yeah, but it’s not a bad thing, right?”

“I don’t know that yet.”

“What do you mean?”

“You, Vic. Me.” She sighs and turns away again.

“You, me… what?”

“I don’t know you. You don’t know me. You have no idea who Vivian is.”

“That’s not my fault.”

“I’m not saying it is. I’m simply saying this is a huge change. You have taken over our lives.”

“That’s not true.”

“Really? Last week I had my own babysitter—”

“If you don’t want Veronica to babysit, just tell her no.”

“That’s not it. And don’t interrupt me when I’m talking. It’s rude.”

I roll my hand at her. “Continue, then.”

“My point is, last week I made all the decisions. It has taken me every moment of these past seven years to sort things out. And I’ve been thrown some curve balls recently, and I didn’t expect to be living in a shitty family-housing apartment with my six-year-old daughter while I waitressed and went back to school with a bunch of people who still qualify as teenagers. But whatever. It is what it is. And I was still in control. But now—”

“Oh, I get it.”

“Do you?”

“I’m stepping on your toes.”

“See, Vic, it’s not that simple. I mean, of course it’s that simple in your eyes because you haven’t been the one dealing with parenthood for seven years. And you maybe even think of yourself as some kind of hero, right? You’re gonna save us from… whatever.”

“Daisy, I really think you’re reading too much into this.”

“No. You’re reading too little. Listen, I get that you have rights. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I was young, you are much older than me, it was a one-night thing and we didn’t know each other. So that’s my bad. And it’s a big one, I understand, and you have every right to be mad at me. But flipping my world upside down? It’s not fair. Even if everything you bring to the table makes our lives better, it’s still not fair.”

I don’t say anything back at first. I just try to understand where she’s coming from, but it doesn’t make sense to me. Finally, I say, “So what do you want me to do?”

Daisy shrugs. “There’s nothing you can do. It’s done.”

“So why are you blaming me?”

“Because you’re the only one I can blame.”

I chuckle a little. “Well, at least you’re honest.”

She nods. Looks out her window. “And at least you’re not defensive.”

“I kinda am. I’m just trying to help.”

“I know.”

“What time do you get off?”

“Around eight, I guess.”

“I have clients tonight. But come on over when you’re done and we can go get Vivi.”

She scoffs. She even looks at me. “Go get Vivi? Are you fucking kidding?”

“What do you mean?”

“She’s not coming home tonight, Vic. She’s in heaven up there at your sister’s farm. Your nieces are living her dream life. There is no possible way that she doesn’t stay the night. Hell, there is almost no possible way she doesn’t stay the fucking week. We’re not picking her up tonight. I’m going home after work, and I’m going home alone.”

This is when her deal finally sinks in.

She’s afraid she’s going to lose her girl. And she can’t even complain about it, because there’s nothing to complain about except her own sad heart.

Vivian was right yesterday. She’s not mad, she’s sad.

“Yeah,” I finally answer back. “That’s probably true. Hell, if I was a kid, I’d want to live at Ronnie’s house too.”

“No-brainer.” Finally, she smiles.

“But that’s what your house probably looked like when you were a kid, right?”

She scoffs again. “Um. No. Your sister lives in the Chip and Joanna Gaines version of a farm. I lived on a real farm. Our house was not trash, but it wasn’t high-end shabby chic.”

“That’s all Spencer,” I say. “He’s the rich fuck, not us. You’ve seen my house. It’s a wreck. And when I was a kid, it was much, much worse. Spencer and Ronnie built something good. Yeah, he always had money. He grew up in the rich side of Denver. But what they have now, they built that together. It took them fifteen years to get it looking that perfect. So, you know, you’re only seeing the endgame.”

“I know. But my parents were a team too.” She stops for a moment. And then it turns into a long moment.

“Yeah?” I prod her.

She takes a deep breath. “Yeah. So. They never quite realized their Chip and Joanna farmhouse dream.”

“What happened to them?” I probably shouldn’t ask, but I do anyway.

“They died in a car accident a little over a year ago. My father had just upgraded the farm. New milking barns, new concrete silage bins, reseeded about a hundred and fifty acres and put in a water pivot to keep it green all summer so we could sell organic milk. He invested everything we had—”

“Oh, fuck.”

“Yep. And then they died and I didn’t know what to do with it. It’s just a lot harder to make money with cows than I ever understood. So I fucked it all up and we went broke.” She throws up her hands. “And now?” She looks like she wants to cry. “This is my life.”

“I’m sorry, Daisy. I really am. I wish I was there when that happened. I would’ve helped. Not that I know anything about cows.” I laugh. “Can you imagine me milking cows?”

She laughs. Sniffles a little. “I’d actually pay money to see that, Vic.”

“Listen, I know that I’m fucking things up for you. I get that. But I’m not doing it to be mean, or to take her away from you, or to boost my ego. I just like her. And I never thought I’d have kids. I never thought I’d be like Spencer. But suddenly these two girls appear in my life and there it is. That possibility is suddenly a reality, or at least an opportunity. So if I come off as… eager, it’s not because I’m trying to take something from you. I just think…” Now it’s my turn to sigh. “After all the shit me and my family have been through—and whatever you know about us, that’s just the tip of the iceberg—after everything we’ve been through, I think we all want a little less drama. We all want what Ronnie has. We’re tired of being whatever this town thinks we are. And you’re my way out, Daisy.”

“Me?” She looks over at me and laughs.

“Yeah. I’m not the prince in this scenario. You are.”

She shakes her head and looks out the window. But her smile is reflected in the glass.

“So, since our child is going to spontaneously spend the night at my sister’s house tonight, do you want to have dinner with me?”

She looks over at me, surprised. “You want to have dinner with me?”

“Is that shocking news?”

“Umm. Kinda.”

“Yes, let’s have dinner. Go home after work, wash up, and then I’ll pick you up at nine-thirty. You can wait that long to eat?”

She sucks in a deep breath, takes her time to think about my question, then finally—“Yeah, I can wait.”

“Cool. Then it’s a date.”

We’re just entering downtown when those words come out of my mouth. And then, before things can get too silent and go awkward, I’m pulling up in front of Sick Boyz. We get out, smile nervously as we say see ya later, and then she crosses the street and I go inside.

A date.

I have a date.

And regardless of that one night we had seven years ago, Daisy Lundin is not the kind of woman who dates men like me.

Mothers hate tattoos.

Mothers hate motorcycles.

Mothers hate me.

But I don’t care.

I’m finally getting my second date with Daisy Lundin.