Grams went pale. Her eyes turned to Royal, beseeching. “No, Royal, no. Not at all. I'm so sorry Darren was so rude. I've been thrilled you two are together. Daisy's been so happy—” Her voice faded away, and she looked at the floor. When she raised her head, her eyes were wet. “He's my baby.”
“I thought I was your baby.” The plaintive tone of my voice brought tears of humiliation to my eyes. All my life my parents had ignored me, but it was okay because I had Grams. Except now, it seemed that, in the end, I didn’t have her either.
Grams reached for me. I stepped back. I got it now. My dad needed more, so he got more. All my hard work wasn't worth anything. Taking another deep breath to steady myself, I reached for Royal's hand. His fingers closed around mine, holding tight.
“Just so you know,” I began, “I lent Dad the twenty thousand dollars we had saved for the renovations. He had a business plan and spreadsheets and I truly thought he was going to pay us back. You've probably figured out that he changed his mind. That's why I keep putting you off on the renovations. Because the money is gone.”
“Oh, Daisy, it's okay, baby, I understand.”
“Do you? Because I don't. I asked him about it before we came here, and he said he wasn't going to pay us back and technically he could press charges against me for stealing from the bakery.”
“Well, that's absurd! Of course, I'd never—”
“I'm telling you because keeping the secret has been making me miserable. And also because when you take over the accounting, you'll see what I did. I'm sorry. I screwed up and now you won't get your deck or outside seating. Not for a while. Probably not ever since Dad won't let you save up that much without talking you into giving it to him instead.”
“Daisy, your father—” She stopped and stared at me in confusion. “Why would I take over the accounting?”
“You can't let Mom or Dad do it,” I said slowly. I thought that was obvious. “Whatever you do, don't give them access to your banking or the checkbook.”
“They wouldn't—” Grams cut off again.
I ignored her. Of course, they would. They'd already gotten away with stealing from her once, though that was mostly my fault. Now that we were talking about accounting, I remembered our clients and the schedule.
“I'll come in tomorrow to finish the event cakes for this weekend.”
Grams just stared at me, mouth open, stunned silent. Royal took pity on her. “Eleanor,” he said gently, “Daisy quit the bakery.”
Another thing I thought would be obvious. A tear spilled down Grams' cheek, and I felt like absolute dog shit for making my grandmother cry.
“Grams,” I said, my voice hitching, “I can't stay. I thought it was ours, that we were a team. I won't work with Dad. Not after what he did and the things he said. I don't think you should either, but it's been made very clear that it isn't my business.”
“Daisy. I can't choose—”
Horror engulfed me. That wasn't what I meant. “I'm not trying to make you choose. I understand that he's your son. I get it. I know how much you love him, how happy you are when he's home. If this makes them stay—”
My throat locked up, tears flooding my eyes until I couldn't see. I wanted Grams to be happy. I loved her too much to want anything else. I just couldn't be a part of her happiness if it came at this cost. Dad would ruin her. I wasn't sticking around to watch.
At that thought, I reached my limit. “I love you,” I forced out, darting forward to catch her in a brief hug before I bolted out the front door. Royal followed after a moment, taking my arm and helping me into the car.
“What did you say to her?” I asked when I thought I could get a word out.
“That I'd look out for you.”
I wanted to be strong, to tell him I didn't need him to look out for me, but right then, I very much did. I couldn't really see where he was driving. Grams' face kept popping into my head, that look of confusion and pain. Hurting her left my chest hollow and aching, my stomach sick. I almost told Royal to turn the car around and go back, but then I thought of my father, that smug smile and the sound of him calling me a slut for falling in love with a good man.
No, there was no going back. I loved Grams so much, but Dad was her problem. I'd never been able to get him to be a good father or a good son, and he sure as hell didn't fit my definition of a good husband. I'd never understand why my mother put up with him. How could she choose him over her own child? That question pulled a hitching sob from my throat.