Daisy carried the cupcakes through the back door and set them on the kitchen counter, making sure the red and blue frosting she’d piped on each one hadn’t gotten damaged too badly during transport. “Mamá? Papi?”
“In here!”
She found her parents in the hallway. Her father, Marcus, wielded a mop. He was tall and thin with salt and pepper hair. He wore red pajamas and a dark blue robe. Her mother, Rita, wore a pink house dress and fluffy green slippers. She still had thick, black hair that fell in waves to her shoulders. She glanced at her over her shoulder. “The bathroom sink had a moment earlier. Thankfully, your uncle knew exactly how to fix it and talked Papi through it.”
Daisy grinned. “I guess all those years with a plumber for a brother paid off.”
“Happy Fourth of July.” Her mom gestured with her hand, and they walked back into the kitchen. “Thank you for the cupcakes. Are you staying?”
In a couple of hours, her parents’ home would fill with teenagers for a backyard pool party celebrating the holiday. In every church he’d served as a youth pastor, he’d had this annual Fourth of July party. Daisy had never missed one. “Actually, I have a date.”
Her mom raised an eyebrow. “Jason?”
Trying not to shudder at the sound of his name, Daisy said, “No. We broke up last week. This is with Ken Dixon. Remember him?”
“Ken Dixon? Of course! Although I’m not sure which one was Ken. I do remember the Dixon brothers, though. I even remember one time they switched their names just to mess with your dad. It was rather funny.” She cupped her mouth and said in a conspiring whisper, “Your Papi didn’t think so.”
Daisy chuckled. “Well, apparently, his family is having a big thing at Ken’s cabin on Lake Oconee. So, I’m going out there. I think he’ll even do a big firework show from the water.”
Her mom grabbed two coffee cups and headed for the carafe. Daisy did not tell her mother she didn’t want coffee because she didn’t want to explain why she didn’t want it. “So, how did you end up on a date with Ken Dixon?”
“His company’s donating the materials and equipment to build the house we’re raising on Labor Day. Our paths just kinda crossed.”
Her mom handed her a coffee cup then toasted her with her own and said, “I love it when God does stuff like that. Don’t you?”
Thinking of the way she’d likely disappointed God and how she deserved no special arrangements filled Daisy with embarrassment and shame. Her cheeks heated, and a bitter taste filled her mouth. “I do. Especially when you can look back and see it.” She set the untouched coffee cup in the sink and said, “I have to run. I have barbacoa in the Crock-Pot, and I need to make some tortillas to go with it. I was telling Ken about it last night, and he insisted that I make some for him. I’m going to surprise him with it today.”
Her mom grinned. “Cooking for him already?”
“Mamá!” She kissed her cheek and breathed in the familiar smell of cinnamon. “I’ll see you soon.”
“Have fun with Ken Dixon. You have to tell me everything. Can’t wait to hear about it.”
“Tell Papi bye for me. Have a good party!” Making a mental list of everything that she had to get done between now and the time she needed to head to the lake, Daisy went back out the back door and headed to the grocery store. She knew it would take an hour to drive there, and possibly more depending on traffic. Ken had assured her she could use the oven there to warm up her dish.
At home, she spent the next hour making a couple dozen corn tortillas, then packed everything into her car and followed the directions to Ken’s lake house. On the drive, she had a talk with herself.
“You know, of course, that this will only end in heartbreak. You need to tell him not cook for him.”
She grimaced and met her eyes in the rear-view mirror. “But, he’s so nice and so, you know, Ken Dixon. I can enjoy today, right?”
Focusing back on the road, she gritted her teeth and said, “No, but apparently, you’re going to, anyway.”
She arrived to find cars and trucks filling the dirt and pine straw covered yard. She’d pictured a wooden cabin, like one would find near a snow-capped mountain, not the square gray-stone structure with the red tin roof. When she went inside, though, the beautiful tile floors and fully furnished kitchen surprised her. The kitchen opened up onto the main room that contained tables bowing under with food. She set the stone crock in the oven she’d asked Ken to preheat. It would need more than a few minutes to get back up to temperature. She found the spot reserved for her dish and set the basket of tortillas next to the empty Crock-Pot shell. She looked up as the door opened, and one of Ken’s brothers came in.
“Well, if it isn’t Daisy Ruiz, as I live and breathe,” he said.
She smiled because she liked both of Ken’s brothers. She used to have the ability to tell them apart when they spoke, but apparently, that skill had declined over the years. “And you are…?”
He laughed and said, “Jon.”
“It’s good to see you, Jon. It’s been a long time.”
“It has. How’s your brother? It’s been a couple years since I’ve seen him.”
“He’s doing very well. Still at a church in Panama City. DJ is a joy and has just started saying auntie.”
He walked into the kitchen and opened up a door revealing a large walk-in pantry with an ice maker. He grabbed a cooler from a shelf and filled it with ice. When he lifted the cooler, his muscles rippled beneath his T-shirt sleeves. “Ken’s out there. I can take you if you want.”
“Thanks. I’m just about done.” She found a dish towel and used it as an oven mitt to take the crock out of the oven and carried it over to its shell. She plugged it into the extension cord someone had run to the table, then put the glass lid on it and turned to Jon. “All done.”
He wiggled his eyebrows and said, “That smells amazing. I remember your mom’s barbacoa. I know where I’m headed first thing.”
Jon led her out the door he’d come through and gestured with his chin toward the dock. Then he carried the cooler of ice in one direction, and she walked down to the dock in the other. A large tent covered about twenty tables and chairs. Red, white, and blue flags hung from banners all around the edges of the tent. A couple played volleyball at a net, and another group swung from a rope swing and fell into the lake. Country music piped from somewhere to the speakers set up all around the perimeter. As she walked into the crowd, she realized that she didn’t really recognize anybody. Finally, she found Ken.
He wore a pair of red shorts and a dark blue tank top. Sunglasses hung loose on a strap around his neck. He had a red cap with the black Dixon Contracting logo.
“Hey, Ken.”
As soon as he heard her voice, he turned in her direction with a smile covering his face. “Daisy!”
When she approached him, he put his hand on the small of her back and gestured at the woman standing in front of him. She had blue hair pulled up into pigtails with red and white pompoms fastening them. She’d secured a sparkly blue star on the side of her face. “This is Brad’s assistant, Sami. Sami, this is Daisy Ruiz.”
Daisy looked down at her simple outfit of cutoff denim shorts and a sleeveless white shirt and felt a little less patriotic. “I love your style,” Daisy said. “I would never have the guts to pull it off.”
“I often get a double-take at work after people see me at a party.” She laughed. “Most of the extreme hair color is temporary.”
Ken grinned. “Think this is something? You should see her at Christmas.”
Sami excused herself, and Ken gestured to the raft next to the dock. “Hope you’re up to going out on the water with me tonight. There’s nothing like fireworks when you’re surrounded by water.”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
He had taken her to a jazz festival yesterday. They’d had the best time walking around, listening to different jazz performers, eating food on sticks, and drinking frosty fresh lemonade. They’d stayed until well past sundown. When he drove her home, he insisted that she come today. Even though she promised herself she would say no to the next invitation, she found herself agreeing to come and then looking forward to it all morning.
The music stopped, and a sharp whistle sounded over the speakers. She turned and saw Ken’s dad, Philip, standing near the big white tent with a microphone in his hand. Like his sons, he stood about six-six and had a brown and gray goatee. She remembered being so afraid of him when she was younger. One day, she’d fallen in the church parking lot. He’d helped her to a bench where he tended to her bloody knee in such a gentle way that she’d never felt intimidated by him again. In a deep voice, he said, “We’re going to ask God to bless this food! Bow your heads, please.”
Silence descended upon the crowd. Philip prayed a prayer of thanksgiving over the nation’s birthday and then asked God’s blessing on the food. As soon as he said amen, the music started back up, and people headed into the building to get their dinners.
While milling around, waiting for the line to die down, Ken introduced her to Brad’s wife, Valerie. Valerie had beautiful skin the color of rich milk chocolate. She wore an orange sundress that perfectly complemented the caramel color of her eyes. “It’s nice to meet you. Ken talks about you often.”
It felt weird to say that because she had only spent a little bit of time with Ken. But in several conversations, he exuded his love for his family.
Valerie smiled and cut her eyes toward Ken. “I wish I could say the same thing. You have Auntie Rosie and me just dying of curiosity. Ken never dates, and Auntie Rosie remembers you from church. Somehow, I don’t remember you, but I do remember your parents.”
Daisy really appreciated her directness, even if it made her laugh a little nervously. “Since Papi led the youth boys, they spent a lot of time at our house during my formative years.” She put a hand on Ken’s arm. “I would love to know some stories from when he was younger. I understand you have all the scoop on that.”
Valerie threw her head back and laughed. “I have so much scoop. You can come to me and get it all.”
Ken said, “Hey now. Let’s save the dirt for a little more time to go by, can we?”
Valerie shrugged, and her eyes gleamed with amusement. “We’ll see how it goes.”
For the rest of the evening, Ken stayed by her side. He introduced her to friends and family and coworkers and made her feel like the most important person there. As the sun went down, he helped her onto the flat wooden raft. She fastened her life preserver and helped him untwist a strap on his. “You’re going to want these,” he said, holding out a pair of headphones.
It surprised her how much noise just went away once she slipped them on. She could even hear herself breathing. She slipped them back off and let them hang around her neck. The din of the crowd and the sound of the music immediately returned.
“Those are for the shooting range. But they work great here.”
Once he secured the raft, he showed her his sequence of order for lighting the fuses. Jon manned the music they had choreographed for the fireworks. He pulled out his phone and accessed the stopwatch.
“What can I do?” she asked.
“Just have a seat. They’re already set up in order. I just have to light them. So, the hard work’s over. Time to enjoy the fruits of our labor.”
She sat down, feeling surprisingly steady on the flat craft. During their short journey, the sky had gradually darkened. “Here we go,” he said, then hit a button on his phone. Seconds later, he said, “Thirty seconds.” He hung up without saying anything else and started the stopwatch.
Thirty seconds later, she slipped the headphones back on while he lit the first in the line of rockets. Seconds later, fireworks lit up the night sky with glorious white and red colors. All around her, the water reflected the explosion, and it felt like she bathed in the light.
A grin covered her face as the show encompassed her. The fireworks exploded overhead, filling the night with color and flashes of pure light. For fifteen minutes, Ken lit fireworks in sequence to his stopwatch. He focused entirely on his job, allowing her to watch him as much as she could in the flashing, dancing, reflecting light.
As soon as the last rocket flew up into the air, he sat down next to her so close that his arm brushed against hers. “Grand finale,” he said loud enough for her to understand him through the headphones. She smiled at him and leaned against him. Soon his arm came around her. Nothing had ever felt more perfect than the weight of Ken’s arm. She leaned into his chest as the last of the embers dissipated into the sky that suddenly seemed so very, very high.
Daisy slipped the headphones off and let them rest around her neck. She and Ken sat like that for several moments before he pulled her close and hugged her. She felt as if she soared higher than any of the rockets that had just raced high overhead. The air felt crisper, and the world vanished except for the feel of Ken Dixon’s arms around her.
“You did a great job,” she said.
He waved a hand dismissively toward the spent explosives. “I do this every year. Once you plan it out, it’s not so hard.” As they slowly maneuvered their way back to the dock, Ken said, “I really enjoyed the dish you brought. What meat did you use?”
“My family’s tradition is goat, but I couldn’t find any, so I used lamb. Similar flavors.”
He nodded. After a moment, he said, “I think I’d like to try the goat.”
Pleased, she smiled. “I think I’d like to make you some.”
When they approached the dock, Brad and Ken both helped secure the raft, then Brad held his hand out to help her up onto the dock. She stepped back as Ken hopped off the raft.
“We’ll leave them on the raft for now,” Ken said. “That way, they completely cool before we throw them away.”
She looked at her watch. It was already well after ten. “I’m going to start heading back.” She lifted her hand at his brothers and said, “It was so good to see you guys again.”
After they said their goodbyes, Ken held out his hand. “I’ll walk you to your car.” It felt natural to slip her hand in his. It took several minutes to work their way through the crowd of people wanting to thank Ken for the fireworks. Eventually, they made it into the house, and she grabbed her empty dish that someone had already washed. She found the basket and slipped it into the dish, then set the lid on it.
“Looks like it was a hit,” Ken said, taking the empty slow cooker from her.
“It always is with my family.” By the time they made it out to the yard, more than half of the vehicles had gone. She looked at a pup tent in a nearby clearing.
“A lot of folks will just camp out here tonight.” He set her slow cooker into the trunk of her car. “I couldn’t convince you to, could I?”
She didn’t think he meant that in an underhanded way, but she still giggled a little nervously. “No, I’m afraid I have to go. But I bet it’s fun to camp out here.”
He used his head to gesture toward the house. “I have a bed there. It’s built into the wall. That lets me use that main room as living, dining, or bedroom without having my bed out in the open.”
She would enjoy seeing the way that worked. “Roughing it, I see.”
He chuckled. “There’ll be a lot of tents out here tonight, but I’ll be in the bed. I won’t be the one complaining.”
She opened up her door and turned to face him. “Thank you again for inviting me.”
Ken stepped forward and surprised her by cupping her cheek with his hand. She could feel his rough palm against her skin. “I had a selfish reason.”
“Selfish?”
He nodded, his eyes never letting hers go. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since last night.”
She gasped, imagining it as she had hundreds of times. In an unusually bold way, she asked, “What’s stopping you?”
Even in the darkness, she could see the flare in his eyes. Seconds later, his mouth covered hers. The feeling of his lips against hers stunned her, sucked the breath right out of her body. She put a hand on his chest and just left it there, unable to move, just feeling his heart pound against her palm. He ran his hand down her neck, and she felt his touch all the way through her chest and down her body to her toes. She relished the feel of his lips, the smell of him, the taste of him.
When he lifted his head, she realized she clutched his shirt in her hands. He looked down at her face and gently brushed the side of her cheek. “Can I see you tomorrow?”
“Yes.” Yes? Yes? What do you mean yes? Are you crazy? “Yes. I hope so. I should be free by late afternoon.”
She knew she shouldn’t see him ever again. But somehow, standing up here on the very peak of the mountain, her heart once again overrode her brain. Then he gave her one more hard kiss that stole her breath and every thought. He stepped back and said, “Please let me know when you get home.”
As she drove away, she brushed her lips with her fingertips, trying to remember how it felt to have Ken Dixon kiss her. As many times as she had imagined it, nothing compared to the real thing. Nothing. She could lose herself in kisses like that.
She looked at her reflection in the rearview mirror. “You are absolutely insane, Daisy. You cannot keep doing this.”
She looked back at the road, shaking her head. Her mouth tingled with the taste of Ken Dixon’s lips.
The clock on the coffee maker read four-thirty. Ken hit the button, and the sound of beans grinding filled the little kitchen. While the coffee brewed, he slid his Bible across the table and found the spot where he’d left off yesterday.
As he stared at the paragraph he’d just read three times, he couldn’t remember what it said because kissing Daisy good night on Saturday night overwhelmed his thoughts. Nothing had ever felt so good and right as that kiss, as if he’d waited his entire life for that single moment in time.
He lived life as a cautious, careful man. Ken was the brother who didn’t jump his bike over homemade ramps and break a leg or impulsively talk back to adults. He made sure to make every move careful, methodical, concise. He made plans, wrote lists, and systematically managed every minute of his life, content and at peace.
Ever since Daisy came around that corner of the cubicle, chaos suddenly interrupted his perfect order. His thoughts weren’t clear. He had a hard time staying on task. He just wanted to call her and listen to her voice.
And kiss her.
He could feel her hesitation to date him, and he could sort of understand. The idea that some other man had used her so deviously filled him with anger. Even though he wanted to know more about it, he didn’t want to pry or press. He hoped she would eventually trust him with the story on her own. If he had the responsibility of a woman’s heart, if she loved him, he would do everything in his power to protect her and everything he could to prevent harm from ever coming to her. He would never use her and discard her.
He also couldn’t help but think about the wife of that man. What would it be like to have a spouse who could treat other people that way? Personally, he held his integrity to very high standards, and he just naturally expected all men to do so as well.
Maybe the problem lay in his expectations.
Either way, he needed to figure out how to break through the barrier that Daisy had put up because of that other man’s actions. He wanted to make sure she knew she could trust him and that he would never do anything to hurt her. It certainly had become a matter for centered prayer for him.
He closed his eyes and tried to focus on this time he had set aside to spend with God, not to get distracted by chaotic or judgmental thoughts about another human being. He needed this time to center his day and set his focus. Feeling more in control of his mind, he went back to the spot he left on in the book of James and continued reading.
An hour later, as he raised his head from his prayer, his phone rang. Only one of his parents or brothers would call this early, and they often did. “Hey,” he said to Jon.
“Hey. The Nashville tornadoes destroyed the home of an employee last night. Can you put her into one of your apartments since you haven’t closed yet?”
He thought about the empty units in building three. “Yeah, sure. If she signs a lease, we can make her part of the closing agreement. We’ve had people moving in as each building gets finished. I have eight apartments ready to go right now.”
“Thanks. She’s a good kid. She just needs a break right now.”
“Being a Dixon Company employee just became that break,” Ken snorted. “We can throw in furniture and put her up rent-free for the first sixty days.”
“You’re way ahead of me. Thanks, Ken.”
His mind started clicking into gear. He opened the key box and grabbed the key for apartment 311. On his way out the door, he poured a cup of coffee. As he crossed the parking lot, he looked over at the cars parked under the streetlights in front of the first two buildings. It always felt good to know people lived in a building he built. This one, he and Brad had spent two years ripping apart and putting back together. He knew it would have required less work to knock everything down and start fresh, but he personally gained so much satisfaction with every swing of the sledgehammer, every installation of a kitchen counter or cupboard. He hadn’t asked, but he guessed the woman Jon had called about was his assistant in Nashville. Knowing her tiered salary, he chose a first-floor apartment in building three.
He let himself into the freshly painted apartment. The door opened onto a foyer with the door to the laundry room immediately on his left, and the hall closet on his right. He could go right and head to the master bedroom or the doorway to the kitchen. Instead, he walked straight into the living room. They’d stocked it with very simple furniture that lacked any true style or color, giving the resident plenty of room for expression. A gray couch and matching chair sat on the teak hardwood around a coffee table.
He thought he’d have a television installed since she’d lost everything in a tornado. He knew one bedroom held a double bed, and the other was empty. Maybe he’d ask his mom to set up the kitchen for her.
He wouldn’t normally go to this much trouble for a new tenant, but Jon really respected his assistant’s skills and work ethic. As an employee, he considered her a member of the family. The Dixons took care of family.
He took a couple of pictures to send to his mom. On his way out of the apartment, he called her.
“Good morning, son,” she greeted.
“Hi, Mama. Jon’s assistant lost everything in a tornado last night. She’s coming to work for him here, and I have a furnished apartment for her. Can you maybe stock the kitchen and do sheets and stuff? She’s coming with nothing.”
“Of course, I can. I have the whole morning free. Can you get me a key?”
He thought about how much time it would take to get to his parents’ house and then make it to work on a Monday morning through the horrendous Atlanta traffic. Instead, he said, “Brad has a key to my apartment. If he’s still there, you can get it from him. Otherwise, I can leave my door unlocked, and you can get the key off of my counter.”
“Let me check. I’ll let you know.”
“Thanks, Mama. Apartment 311.”
Once he settled that business, he kicked his shoes off and went into the small yard outside the area he used as his apartment. As the sun rose, he got into the starting stance and then performed a series of taekwondo forms. Keeping his mind focused on his body, how his muscles moved, and the perfection of his stance and kicks, he went from the white belt form and progressed up to the third-degree black belt form. It took him just under thirty minutes to go through them all. When he finished, he went back into the beginning stance and started on the judo forms.
Martial arts gave Ken a deep sense of calm and allowed him to stay centered throughout his day. He focused better the mornings he gave his complete attention to the workouts.
He and his brothers had all taken Taekwondo all through middle school and high school. As soon as they achieved black belts, Jon and Brad had just coasted, but he wanted to discover other martial arts. He went on to Judo, got his black belt, and currently had a high Aikido belt as well. His brothers jokingly called him an overachiever, but he knew they respected his skills.
As he finished the last kick, he brought his body back to the starting form and relaxed. His muscles felt loose, and sweat trickled down his back. He rolled his head on his neck and headed into the apartment to take a quick shower.
Ken occasionally still went to his old dojos whenever his instructors needed an extra hand with the younger kids. He enjoyed working with them and seeing them progress through the ranks. His mind wandered to Brad and Valerie and the baby. A warm, loving feeling flowed from his heart, imagining a child that would be a blend of Brad and Valerie. He wondered if he would ever be a father, and unbidden, his mind went back to Daisy.
They had enjoyed an early dinner yesterday before she had to go back to her church. They’d grabbed a bucket of chicken, then went to a park and watched the ducks swim in a pond while they chatted and ate. Ken had kissed her goodbye and promised to call her this morning. He wondered if six-thirty was too early and realized he should have asked.
Ken found dating rituals uncomfortable. He found making small talk more like some kind of torture. He could count on one hand the number of women he had dated. Instead, he found his social contentment with his family, people who understood his stretches of silence and didn’t require chit-chat when unnecessary. Even more than his family, he enjoyed the times he spent alone, no conversation necessary, no one to pull him out of his own head and force unwanted discourse or bothersome social rituals.
But with Daisy, he felt like a whole person. He found that very odd because he had never considered himself incomplete until he shook her hand that day.
With his hair still wet from the shower and his cheeks tingling from aftershave, he sat down with his notebook and made a list of things he needed to accomplish this morning. Using his phone, he wrote a quick email to a friend who worked as a loan officer at a bank and asked him to keep an eye out for a construction foreclosure. His friend had hooked him up a couple of times with houses that construction companies never finished building. With an original investment of way less than the house’s worth, he would finish building it and sell it with a nice profit. Since he could perform most of the work himself, he considered it an easy moneymaking venture. Banks usually just wanted to get back the money they had invested.
If he didn’t hear back from him within a week, he would go ahead and plan to move into one of the empty apartments. He had plenty of options.
After he showered and ate some breakfast, he checked the time again. It was seven-ten. He could probably get away with texting. Ken found that rather ironic because he personally hated texting. He just didn’t want to disturb her with an actual call too early.
After he grabbed his coffee cup and keys, he headed out the door. His mom had texted and had Brad’s key, so he locked the door behind him. With a full day ahead of him, he had a feeling that the paperwork portion would take much longer because of this sudden inability to focus currently happening to his mind. Before he got out of the parking lot, he got a text back.
A grin covered his face, and he actually laughed out loud. If he sat down and wrote out the perfect woman’s exact qualifications for him, someone who ran a charity that helped people, loved Jesus, and an early riser would pretty much top his list. He looked up at the roof of his truck and said, “Thank You, God. I love seeing You work.”