I’m standing outside Daisy’s house looking at the fading paint job. This was my house once. A house I bought for us. For a family that never was. I close my eyes for a second and see it again. The fence was a light blue, not the scattered shower of wood sticks it is now. The house a bright red wood on a street of brown brick dwellings. We were both younger then, and Daisy had bright blue eyes that made it easy to get up every morning. I smell the kitchen, feel the warm water from the shower inside, and taste the air of a happy home.
But it’s all nostalgia.
“Jackson. What the hell are you doing just standing there?”
Daisy is wearing a tanktop, her hair pulled back. Her eyes dull, tired.
“Hi Daisy, Henry home?”
She chews on this a bit, looks away.
“Nah, he’s gone, come on in.”
Inside it looks strangely the same as it did some four years prior. The odd picture is missing and I notice the television is gone. Probably sold for a hit.
“You want a beer, Jackson?”
I accept and we sit at the kitchen table. I used to play poker on it. Daisy is running her fingers over the red vinyl top nervously. It smells strange in here.
“Henry left.”
The news does not surprise me. She doesn’t hesitate,
“Jackson. God. I’m sorry. But I need some cash.”
Of course. It’s not like I didn’t expect this when she called. If you ever wonder how long people can use your good will, Daisy is the perfect example. But she knows I’ll give her some, because she understands that even with all the shit, there is a small part of me that still loves her. Not a lot, but just enough to not see her suffer. I give her money for groceries, even though it will not be spent on them.
As I get up to leave she gives me this strange awkward hug. Her shoulders feel frail, as if they are about to give up, to break into dust. My hand comes close to caressing her hair, but stops short.
I pull away, grabbing the beer as I go.
“Goodnight Daisy.”
I think I hear her whisper back, as I exit the house where I my youthful dreams died.