Romance Fiction posted June 14, 2015

This work has reached the exceptional level
Lessons of the heart sometimes have a price...

Picking Daisies In The Rain

by Jacqueline M Franklin

<> Slight swearing...
<> No sex, just inuendo...

‘Picking Daises In The Rain’

It’s interesting how life changes when we least expect it. After choosing a Celine Dion CD, I made myself a glass of iced tea. Then I pushed open the screen door, flipped the porch light on, and sat on the swing. I can’t help but smile as memories come flooding back. 


Had I not picked daises in the rain that definitive day, I could have saved myself so much trouble and sorrow. Nonetheless, as in all things in life, we take the whipped cream with the cherry on top, leaving the generic and boring behind. 

That’s how it was for me—Jerry was generic, a nerd, and oh so safe.

Diego was living on the edge, sexiness personified, and an itch I had to scratch.

It was Sunday afternoon and I had hoped Jerry would take himself away from his computer game and go for a walk in the rain with me—one of my favorite things to do. However, I was only kidding myself because all I got was the expected shrug and, “Maybe later, babe.”

To say he ticked me off would be an understatement for sure, so dressed in my pink sweats, a matching t-shirt—I threw on my raincoat and tucked my long blonde hair under my crocheted cap. For emphasis, I slammed the door behind me—my way of making a point about how angry I was. I walked … no, I stomped to our favorite corner coffee house, and ordered a sugar free caramel mocha frappuccino, no whip, to go. 

I also loved to walk through the park and enjoy the various daisies in the flowerbeds—like a blanket, where each held a different variety. Although I wasn’t supposed to, I stooped to pick a Shasta and Painted Daisy when out of the blue a bouquet appeared in front of me. Attached to the bouquet was a tall drink of water, something my aunt Gretchen would have said about a handsome hunk.

“I understand daisies don’t tell,” he said with a smile to devour.

To this day, I’m not sure where my comment, let alone the flirty look I gave him came from, because it was so unlike me. “Between you, me, and the gatepost, what sinful things would we do that we wouldn’t consider sharing with others?”

He held his hand out to me. “I’d love to dig into that a little more. Come with me. I love walking in the rain, but it’s so much better with someone to share it.”

We spent the next couple of hours chatting in the off and on drizzle, ending up back at the coffee shop where we drank hot chocolate. Before I knew it, we had made plans to go to the local civic theatre on Wednesday night to see ‘Camelot’—he’d pick me up at six.

For the next few weeks, I lived a Cinderella life. I even told Jerry we were through—I couldn’t take his disinterest any longer.

On a particular Friday night at Diego’s condo, after having mind-blowing sex—twice, I took a shower. When finished, I stepped out, grabbed a towel, and then overheard him talking in muffled tones. I grabbed his robe from the hook on the back of the door, tied it, and then walked into the living room.

What greeted me, to this day remains etched in my mind. I walked into the room to hear Diego say in a matter of fact tone. “You said you’d be gone for another week.”

It was too late for me to turn on my heels and dive under the bed—she saw me—a willowy brown-haired woman with brown eyes that could shoot darts. I felt as if she were looking through me when she pushed by Diego with a smirk on her face. “You may be his little bit of fluff, but I’m his wife—pack it up, sister.”

I remember looking at Diego, and all the son-of-a-bitch did was shrug his shoulders with an, oh well, too bad so sad look on his face. I felt mortified. I saw my purse where I had tossed it on a chair earlier when we couldn’t keep our hands off each other.

Feeling as if I had been gut-punched, I knew I had to escape. With no thought to my state of dress, or undress as was the case, I grabbed my purse, and then darted out of his condo. Lucky for me, I had parked in front, so I hurried into it—my humiliation complete. I drove home as if the devil was on my tail. To this day, I’m amazed I didn’t get a ticket.

I spent the next month in a daze. Went to work, did necessary, and then hurried home to hibernate in a book or stare into space, all the while feeling sorry for myself. Then, after tossing and turning all night, as if a light bulb went off, I decided enough was enough. I got up, showered, dressed, and went to work a new person.

When I got home that night—there was Jerry sitting at the desk working at his laptop—I hadn’t bothered to ask for his key back. He looked up at me with that silly smile of his and those few stray, unruly locks of hair that always curled just above his right eyebrow. “I thought maybe we could go for a walk and talk,” he said as he stood.

A few minutes later, as we held hands and walked in an odd sort of silence, I couldn’t help but feel a definite unease. I mean, it felt good having Jerry with me again, which boggled my mind with so much water under the bridge.

Could I tell him all that happened if he asked? I just didn’t know, so I remained quiet until Jerry broke the silence. He stopped, put his hands on my shoulders, and blew me away.

“Marry me, Marnie.”

“Excuse me? Where did that come from?” I asked him, thinking he could have mowed me over with a feather. 

He took my arm and led me to a bench in the park. “Come on, let’s sit down.”

Once settled on the bench he continued. “I saw you with the other guy a couple weeks after you broke off with me. You had just come out of our coffee house,” he emphasized. “It got me to thinking, so I followed you from a distance.”

“Jerry, what do you mean?” I asked him, more confused by the minute.

“I don’t ever remember us being so carefree, making silly, as you two were. I never gave you daisies … your favorite flower. Marnie, I love you, but I didn’t show you in ways that counted. I thought just hanging out said it all.”

Before I knew it, not only was Jerry on one knee, he pulled a two-carat sparkler out of his pocket. I felt myself getting dizzy, because never in all the months we were together had he ever done anything so spontaneous.

“Marnie, I don’t want to be the man who put the kibosh to what you want, need. I want to be the husband who is there for whatever you want to do—from skydiving, to concerts, to skinny-dipping in the pool. Whatever you want, I’m your man.”

I was so touched by what he said as he slipped the ring on my finger … just the right size. I reached out and pushed that stubborn curl from over his eyebrow. “I never stopped loving you—I just didn’t like you very much anymore.”

“I aim to fix that for the rest of my life,” he said as he sat beside me and drew me into a kiss. I mean a suck my tonsils—shake me to my toes kind of kiss—on the park bench—with people all around. He never, ever did that before. I smiled through tears.


I snap out of my contemplation and can’t help but smile when I look up to see Jerry’s car pull into the driveway. I set my glass down, and when he bounds up the steps, I walk into his open arms—because after two years and three months we’re still smiling. 

“Hey, little Mama to be,” he said, his hand covering my tummy, “how’s our boy treating you?”

“He says he’s ready for those sky diving lessons, but only after you and his Mamma skinny-dip before bedtime.”

“Oh yeah, count me in,” Jerry said as we sat on the swing so I could give him a better welcome home … but only after I shut the porch light off!

Strange, but as bad as I felt about my fling with Diego, I’ll admit, had I not picked daisies in the rain that day, Jerry may have not seen the light, and I wouldn’t be happy and content as I am today.

Thanks, Diego, hold the whipped cream and cherry—I’ll take generic Jerry, hands down! 

©2015 Copyright Jacqueline M. (Jax) Franklin

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