The Cinderella Deal - Jennifer Crusie [12]
Linc blinked. “How did you know?”
Daisy looked smug. “You’ve got yuppie written all over you, sweetie. The only thing I’d never have guessed was that you were a Killer Bee.” She bit into her sandwich, happy to have nailed him.
Linc put down his reuben and smiled at her. “You were in Art Club. You were in Drama Club. You were in National Honor Society. You wore glasses and weird clothes. You wrote poetry; you got straight A’s in English, and you dated guys who were very serious about Life. You didn’t lose your virginity until college, and then it was a great disappointment. You’ve spent your entire life hoping that a former football star from Sidney, Ohio, would ask you to marry him and move to Prescott, Ohio, so you could have lots of kids and become a Republican.”
Daisy swallowed and grinned at him. “You were doing pretty good until you got to the former football star from Sidney, Ohio.”
“Well, for the weekend, pretend the rest is true too.”
Daisy tried to understand him. He must have had a repressed childhood, the kind she would have had if she’d had to live with her father for more than summers. He probably had one of those pushy mothers. “Does your mother like me?”
“My mother doesn’t like anybody, including me.”
Daisy put her sandwich down, suddenly not hungry. “That’s awful.”
Linc shrugged. “She’s not an emotional woman. She doesn’t dislike me. I’m fine. She leaves me alone. I’ve seen guys whose mothers call every weekend to see if they’re married yet.”
“That’s my mother.” Daisy picked up her sandwich again.
“And your dad calls you ‘cupcake.’” Linc took another bite of his reuben.
Fat chance. “My father doesn’t call me anything,” Daisy said. “What’s your father like?”
Linc chewed and swallowed. “Dead.”
The lousy memories of her father disappeared under an onslaught of sympathy, and she let her sandwich drop onto her plate. “Oh. Oh, Linc, I’m sorry.”
He shook his head. “He died when I was thirteen. He got to see me make a touchdown in my first junior high game, though.”
“Oh, good.” Daisy thought of Linc alone at all his other games. The story built in her mind—the valiant young athlete looking at the empty place in the stands after every touchdown, searching for the father who wasn’t there, who wasn’t ever going to be there—and her eyes welled with tears.
“Stop it.” Linc handed her a napkin. “That was twenty-five years ago. I barely remember what he looked like. Tell me about your father.”
Daisy blotted her tears and pulled herself together. “There’s not much to tell. He left.”
You had to ask, didn’t you? Linc told himself. “That must have hurt.”
Daisy shrugged and swallowed. “He left when I was one. I’m over it now.”
Linc tried to think of something sympathetic to say. “Oh.”
“I used to spend my summers with him and he’d try to make me neat and well-behaved so I wouldn’t embarrass him. When I turned sixteen, I wouldn’t go anymore. So I haven’t seen my father much since then.”
“Oh.” It sounded messy, and Linc really didn’t want to talk about it. “So did your mom remarry?”
“No.” Daisy fished a pickle from her sandwich with such elaborate unconcern that Linc knew she was upset. “She’s waiting for my father to come back.”
“What?”
“I know.” Daisy nibbled her pickle. “Even when I was a little kid, I knew it wasn’t going to happen. But she still thinks he’ll come back. She just can’t see reality.”
So it’s hereditary, Linc thought, but all he said was “She must have loved him very much.”
Daisy looked thoughtful. “I don’t know. It was very romantic the way they met. He saw her behind the counter in a flower shop she worked in, and he swept her off her feet and into his limo, and I guess they were really crazy about each other for a while, and then the crazy part wore off for him, and he got a good look at what he’d married and didn’t like it.” Daisy shrugged. “He’s a very conservative person. Very proper, very serious.” She met his eyes. “Like you.” Linc wasn’t sure what to say, but she went on. “And my mother’s sort of … fluffy. I don’t think she ever caught on that she wasn’t what he wanted.