On Saturday Grover surprised Daisy with reservations to a cocktail-making class at a local distillery in northern Virginia. He picked up Daisy in his car early Saturday morning and, after picking up bagels and fruit salad at a café near her apartment, they headed out of the city and toward the rolling hills of suburban Virginia.
The class was fun. Daisy and Grover hadn’t known much about spirits before the class, but they left armed with knowledge of how to make two special Prohibition-era cocktails, the differences between flips and fizzes, and the history of the gimlet.
They ate lunch at the distillery with other cocktail classmates, talking animatedly with their new acquaintances about the weather, politics, their respective work, and living inside the Beltway. As they were driving back into Washington, Daisy’s excitement hadn’t waned.
“I didn’t know you were so interested in politics,” Daisy exclaimed, turning to look at Grover while he drove.
“Sure, I find politics fascinating. It just never comes up when we’re together, I guess.”
“Yeah, but how didn’t I know that about you?” Daisy pressed.
Grover shrugged. “Maybe we should spend more time together,” he suggested. Daisy didn’t know whether he was teasing or serious.
“Maybe you’re right. Who knows what else I might discover?” she replied.
Grover turned to look at her. “Who knows?” he asked with a wink.
Daisy didn’t reply to that, but they talked the rest of the way back to Daisy’s apartment of innocuous things, things that didn’t require wondering or confusion. But Grover turned serious when he pulled up in front of the Daisy’s coral brownstone. He turned off the car and unbuckled his seat belt, then turned to face her and took a deep breath.
“Daisy, I’m serious about maybe spending more time together.”
She blinked and her heart started pounding faster. “What do you mean?” She was pretty sure she knew exactly what he meant.
“I mean, we’re best friends. What could be better than best friends who become more than friends?”
For the second time in an hour, Daisy didn’t know what to say. She looked into Grover’s eyes, finding warmth…and something more.
Grover reached out and touched her hand. “What are you thinking?”
“I...I don’t know, Grover. I’m not sure I’m ready. The thing is, I had a bad experience with Dean and I don’t know if I’m the type of person who should be in a relationship.”
“Have you been afraid to move on?” Grover asked. How could Helena and Grover always get so quickly straight to the heart of an issue?
Daisy nodded slightly. “I think so.”
“Do you still love him?”
Daisy thought for a moment. “I’ll always have a spot for Dean in my heart, but I’m not sure I’d call it ‘love.’ It used to be love, but I guess at this point it’s just happy memories combined with an acceptance of what happened.”
“I think I understand.” Grover looked at her intently. “Would you be willing to try to move on? With me, I mean?” He smiled.
She returned his smile, suddenly shy around this man who had been one of her best friends since arriving in Washington. “Maybe,” she said with a nervous laugh.
“I’ll take it,” he replied, touching her hand again.
“Call me later?” she asked, reaching for the door handle.
“You know it,” he said, a broad smile on his face.
Daisy watched him drive away, knowing he was watching her through his rear-view mirror. She waved once and turned around to go inside.
One of her elderly neighbors, Mrs. Clement, was just coming outside. Daisy held the door for her.
“Has that young man finally made his move?” she asked with a wink.
Daisy threw her head back and laughed. “I think so.”
“Took him long enough.”