This would be a good time to tell him. This feels so much like the date when I first kissed him. I know I can do it. All I have to do is?/em>
"Here we go." Michael set a tray holding two hamburgers and a pair of drinks on the table.
Daria emerged from her reverie. "Huh? Oh, thanks."
He sat and said, "Thinking about something?"
"What? Oh, um? Crap. "Uh, not much. I was kind of wondering about how laid back your parents were about us being together. After all of the paranoia from mine about us possibly having sex, yours seem almost unconcerned."
"Not unconcerned, realistic. They know that if we were determined, we could find the time and place to do something. However, if they give us some time alone, we will be less tempted. They've always trusted me and they're extending that to you. Also, Mom and Dad are a couple of perpetual romantics who've been more than thrilled at me finding someone."
"I'm just not used to that kind of attitude. It seems so卹easonable."
"They're probably mutants, but I'm not complaining."
Late in the afternoon, they were heading back from the museum in the same silver/gray sedan Michael had driven to Lawndale. Daria was in the passenger seat, holding up a t-shirt from the Contemporary Art gallery. "Jane's going to get a kick out of this one."
Michael briefly looked over at the abstract design. "If you say so. I always thought the Pollack style was overrated."
"Don't say that when she has a loaded glue gun in her hand."
"I'm sure there's a story behind that."
"Several, actually."
"Hmm. I'm sure I'm going to hear about them from her at some point."
"Only the ones that will embarrass me."
"It's going to be frightening to see you three together under one roof next fall."
"Speaking of which, what are your plans?"
"I'll be back in the dorms. I've been scanning the online apartment ads and everything is out of my price range. I don't know anyone in Boston I could split a place with, so it'll be back to Milton Hall and the roommate lottery."
"I'm sorry."
"Hopefully, this time I'll get one that understands the concept of hygiene. I would like to get my room deposit back."
"You lost your deposit?"
"Well, because I卽h卨eft early. Ken was the last one in the room and exerted his usual amount of effort at cleaning. Meaning, none at all. Because we both signed, we both were responsible for the summer cleaning."
"That sucks."
He looked away from her and said, "I kind of see it as paying for my rash behavior that week."
She rested a hand on his thigh. "You better not be tormenting yourself over that. We both made mistakes and apologized."
He rested his hand on hers. "I know. But, if I had stayed, the room would have been clean and I'd have my deposit."
"True, but I can tell you're still beating yourself up over the rest."
He released her hand and carefully watched the road. "Maybe."
"No maybes, you are."
Slightly peeved, he said, "Okay, I am."
"Michael?"
"Don't tell me when to forgive myself."
"What?"
"You're trying to convince me not to feel bad about what I did."
"Well, yes. We made mistakes. You forgave me, I forgave you."
"Thanks, I do appreciate you forgave me. But, I'm a little rougher on myself."
"Michael, don't you?
"Daria, it's best to drop it."
Surprised, Daria said, "Um, sure. Okay."
The rest of the trip passed in silence until they reached the house and parked. Daria turned to him and said, "Michael, what's wrong?"
He gripped the steering wheel and sighed. "Look, remember when you told me I shouldn't make decisions for you?"
"Yes."
"The same applies here. Please don't tell me what to do on things like that."
"I only wanted?
He turned and held her hand. "To help. This is something I have to work out myself. I know you understand holding yourself to a high standard and why I was upset."
"Yes. I've been there."
"And why you can't tell me to take it easy on myself?"
She clasped his hand with both of hers. "I also understand what I've put Jane through, watching me do what you are doing. I agree, I can't tell you want to do. But, can you agree that doing this is hard on those around you?"
"Yes."
"Can you also agree that you don't have to do it alone?"
He looked into her eyes and saw the concern. "I agree."
"Good. I? Daria suddenly felt her throat tighten. "I?care for you." Dammit, that's not what I wanted to say.
Michael brought her hands up and kissed them. "I know you do; thanks."
Daria closed her eyes and turned her head away. Crap, I'll have to try again later. "I don't see your parents' car."
"They must have gone somewhere."
Daria looked at the house door. "I suppose we should head inside, before your sister starts to spy on us."
"If they were serious about a Buffy marathon, those two have been glued to the television all day."
"Fangirls?"
"Big time."
"Good, then maybe they will leave us alone for a while."
"It'll be our best chance."
"Let's go."
Daria picked up the bags from the museum gift shop and followed Michael into the house. Inside, Gina and Natalie were lounging on the sofa, feet propped on a coffee table. An empty pizza box was between them and partially finished cans of Ultra Cola were on the end tables.
Michael looked at the two and said, "Have your brains fallen out yet?"
Gina fired back, "Why, haven't had dinner yet?"
"Where are Mom and Dad?"
"They went out to see a movie. That's why we came down here to watch."
"Any idea of when they'll be back?"
"Probably after ten. Gave me a twenty to order pizza. Looks like you two are on your own."
Daria looked at the empty box. "You two split a large pizza?"
After taking a drink, Natalie said, "One Grand Supremo with bread sticks. Sure was good."
"And I thought Jane, Karen and I were the only females that did things like that."
Michael walked into the kitchen and said, "Care if I fish for leftovers?"
"I'm kind of beat from being on my feet all day. I'd rather skip going out again if we can help it."
"Have a seat, I'll bring something out and we can go up to my room."
Daria sat in the recliner and began to watch. "Hmm, haven't seen this one. But then, I've missed most of this season."
"How come?" Natalie asked.
"No television in my dorm room."
"You're kidding. No TV?"
"We couldn't run cable in, so why bother?"
Gina scrutinized Daria and said, "Damn, my brother was right. You don't wear makeup."
Michael returned with a plate of leftover lasagna held in each hand, and two cans of soda, still in the six-pack rings, dangling from one finger. "Why cover up beauty?"
Natalie looked a little surprised. "When did Goof-Ball learn to talk like that?"
Gina leaned over and said, "I think he's been taping Dad."
Daria said, "On that wonderful note," and crawled out of the chair to go upstairs with Michael. Out of the corner of her eye, Daria noted that Natalie had looked over at them just before they walked out of sight, almost with a look of relief.
Michael left the door open about six inches. "If it's open, they won't be as curious. If we close it, you can bet their ears will be plastered to the outside within a minute."
Daria took a plate and a drink from Michael and sat on the bed. After taking a bite, said, "Oh, even cold this is so much better than all that frozen stuff I ate over the years."
Michael picked up Daria's feet and swiveled them up onto the bed. She looked at him and said, "What are you doing?"
As he unlaced her boots, he said, "Going to massage your feet. You said they were tired."
"You don't have to."
"I want to." He removed her boots and began to rub her feet.
"Ah卭h. That's nice."
"The day you first said yes to going out with me, my life changed. I haven't exaggerated when I've said being with you is the best thing that has happened to me."
"Michael."
"I almost threw it all away because I panicked and didn't think about you. I really hurt you because of that. I've never wanted you hurt."
"I know. I'm here for you."
"That helps a lot. I'm not used to facing things like this with someone."
Daria closed her eyes and enjoyed the tension releasing in her feet. "Michael, I厀ant to tell you?
He watched her and continued the massage.
Daria felt the butterflies return and her tongue freeze. Argh! "I卽m? Why can't I do this?
Michael extended his massage up to her calves. "Relax and enjoy. You can tell me later." He felt his heart race as he remembered the numerous occasions butterflies had stopped him from saying anything. Almost.
Dressed in a nice Sunday dress, Samantha looked back through the open door. "I know it's not your custom, but you're welcome to come with us."
Daria said, "Thanks for the offer, but I'd feel out of place. I can spend the time writing; don't worry about me."
"Okay. We should be back in an hour and a half or so."
After Samantha walked toward Ron, Gina and Natalie waiting in the car, Michael stopped in front of Daria and encircled her waist with his arms. "See you in a bit. I know you're fine with this, but Mom insists on making sure."
"She wasn't pushy. I appreciate that. I'll warn you, Melody may be in the middle of deep trouble by the time you get back."
Michael gave her a kiss. "Nothing she can't get out of, I'm sure."
"You better get going. They're waiting."
"They can wait on me for a change." Michael kissed her again. "Bye, now."
"Bye."
Once the car had pulled away, Daria went to her laptop case and removed a spiral notebook and a small box. She removed a silver fountain pen from the box. Mrs. Blaine, this is still one of my most cherished gifts. Thank you. She sat on the recliner, crossed her legs to make a platform for the notebook, and began to write.
July 2, 2000
This is the first time I've had a chance to write this weekend. Michael and his family just left for church and I have a little time to myself. So far, I'm glad I made this trip. Samantha and Ron have been so accepting, almost treating me as another daughter. Gina is, well, a younger sister. Bound and determined to give us grief at every chance, but somehow, not as mean-spirited as Quinn was at 15. Her best friend, Natalie, is staying the weekend, also. The two of them together remind me a lot of what Jane and I were like the first summer I was in Lawndale. It makes me wonder what kind of family dynamic would have occurred if I had been the younger sibling.
We spent the entire day yesterday at the Detroit Institute of Arts and had a nice time. On the way home, we got into a disagreement. He's still blaming himself for our short breakup and he got mad when I told him he shouldn't. Kind of like how I kept blaming myself for hurting Jane long after she forgave me for kissing Tom the first time. Things look a lot different from the other side. At least he's letting me help.
Even in my diary, I'm putting off the most important part. Why can't I tell him I love him? Every time I've tried so far, I haven't been able to say it.
Daria looked off across the room for several minutes in thought, absent-mindedly sucking on the end of the pen. She sighed and wrote again.
In some ways, this is worse than my agonizing over whether to have sex with Tom. Then, the physical intimacy that scared me, but we became closer emotionally. This emotional intimacy's even more powerful. I now know why Michael had such a hard time telling me how he felt. I wonder how long he tried and failed before it snuck out on him at the Mystik Spiral concert? That was over three months ago. How much has he wondered about my feelings? Last night, after one of my stuttered, failed attempts, he said something interesting while massaging my feet (such a brave man, after they were in my boots for over ten hours). "Relax and enjoy. You can tell me later." I wonder if he knows what I'm trying to say?
This may be procrastinating again, but I'm not going to try today. Maybe if I give my nerves a break, it will go easier.
With her feet propped up on the recliner's footrest, Daria typed with well-honed speed and precision on her laptop computer.
Red tracers streaked past and struck the wing and engines as Melody dove out of the open rear ramp of the C-130 and into the night sky. With arms tucked close to her side, she streamlined herself to fall past the flight path of the rapidly closing MiG. Behind her, the steady stream of autocannon fire caused the wing of the Hercules to disintegrate and the aircraft to fold toward the failed wing as is burst into a fireball. With a distant roar, the pursuit plane banked away from the kill as she continued her dive toward the ground.
A gentle kiss on the cheek brought her back to reality. She turned as Michael said, "Hope we're not disturbing anything important."
Daria returned the kiss and said, "Well, Melody is in free-fall at twenty-thousand feet."
"I hope she remembered her parachute."
Daria gave him a slim, sly smile. "Well, she remembered a parachute, but it wasn't hers. The original owner didn't need it anyway."
"I knew there was a reason I liked her."
Ron approached and said, "Michael showed us the last story you'd published. Working on another?"
"Um, yeah. The two I had published I wrote last summer. I haven't had much chance to write since then."
"Good luck."
Daria closed the file and began the computer shutdown. "With everyone back, I suppose it would be rude to ignore you all and keep writing."
After lunch, Michael took Daria on a tour of his old haunts. Places like his high school, the park he would frequent for a little extra solitude, the local library, and his favorite used bookstore. They followed with a quiet dinner at a small, French caf?
When the oriental waitress, clearly a family member of the owners, walked away, Daria asked Michael, "Vietnamese?"
"The grandparents learned when it was a French colony. They've been a fixture around here for over twenty years."
Daria reached over the table to hold his hands. "Thanks for showing me around today."
"My pleasure."
"Spending the day with Gina tomorrow is going to feel strange. But, I understand."
"Sorry I have to work. Hopefully, the property we have to survey won't be overgrown like Friday, and we can get done early."
Daria rubbed the small sore spot from the thorn. "And not be as painful."
"Yeah."
Daria looked around the warm, friendly atmosphere of the caf? "I wish there'd been someplace like this in Lawndale. The only French restaurant was very pricy and formal. Of course, Quinn, in her serial dating phase, ate there on a regular basis."
"I'm glad Gina hasn't done anything like that. She's been fairly picky about the boys she's gone out with."
Daria looked at him over her drinking glass. "Do I detect a little protectiveness for your little sister?"
"Yes. She can be a pain, but she is my sister."
Daria nodded and raised her glass. "I know what that's like."
Daria was just about to turn off the lamp next to the sofa bed when she heard Natalie quietly say from the stairs, "Can I talk with you?"
Daria put her glasses back on and said, "Sure."
Natalie came over and sat on the edge of the bed. "I kind of had my doubts, but it's been nice meeting you."
"It's been nice meeting you."
"And cool seeing you and Michael together."
"Oh?"
"You two are so happy together, like Samantha and Ron. I can see that they're not entirely an exception."
"Um卼hanks."
"I don't remember my father. He left when I was a baby."
"I'm sorry."
"Mom's had a lot of bad luck with guys she's dated. I think she quit trying a couple years ago. She's also a cop and sees a lot of bad stuff. I'm sorry I made some bad assumptions about you at first."
Daria looked at the young teen, not sure of what to say.
"Gina's folks gave me hope before; now I feel better seeing you and Michael."
"Thanks again, but I should warn you we're not perfect."
"I know. But, look at you now. It's obvious how much you love each other. Mom said she'd let me start dating when I turn sixteen. I'm not as worried now."
Daria felt a light blush. "We're that obvious?"
"Well, duh. I better get going. Thanks."
"You're welcome?"
Natalie slipped off the bed and ran upstairs.
Obvious?
While Daria was finishing her bowl of breakfast cereal, Ron answered a knock at the front door. There waited a strongly built woman in her later thirties, wearing a police uniform. Ron said, "Morning, Wendy."
She gave him a tired smile. "Hey, Ron. How've you been?"
"I'm good. You look tired."
"It was a long night, and I'm glad I don't have to work again until Wednesday."
Natalie came down the stairs carrying a small, soft-side suitcase and her bags from the mall. Smiling, she moved quickly to embrace her mother and said, "Mom."
She returned the gesture and said, "Nat, have you been behaving for the Fultons?"
Samantha entered the living room from the kitchen. "She has."
Wendy said, "Samantha. Thanks so much, again, for letting her stay."
"It's our pleasure."
Wendy noticed Daria in the kitchen. "Who's your guest?"
"That's Daria, Michael's girlfriend. She's visiting for the weekend from Boston."
Wendy waved and said, "Hi."
Daria waved back and said, "You have a nice daughter."
"Why, thank you. I've tried." She looked around. "We won't keep you; good bye."
Amid a chorus of "Good bye," Wendy and Natalie left.
Samantha used another day of vacation to stay home with Daria and Gina. Through the morning, Daria and Samantha talked over coffee while Gina watched television. Daria learned that Samantha and Ron met in 1979, while she was a senior at Michigan State. He'd graduated from University of Michigan the year before. They dated through her senior year and married two months after her graduation.
Daria smiled. "That means your twentieth anniversary is at the end of the month. My parents renewed their vows on their twenty-fifth, last weekend."
"That's sweet."
Daria did a quick mental calculation. "You weren't married very long before you became pregnant with Michael."
"True. But, that's the way we wanted it. I wanted to have children while I was young enough to chase after them." She laughed and patted her round frame. "Could you see me trying to chase after small children like this?"
Daria wasn't sure how to answer.
Samantha continued. "Anyway, after Gina started preschool, I became a safety inspector for the factory and worked my way up to Supervisor. Ron's now the senior surveyor for his company. So, that's how we ended up like we are."
Daria told her about Highland and Lawndale. How she and Quinn had been such rivals and now were closer. She talked about how she met Jane and how important their friendship was. She finished by talking about Raft, meeting Karen, and finally getting to know Michael.
After a simple lunch of sandwiches, Samantha asked, "Daria, do you mind if I run out for a few things?"
"No problem. I guess I should spend some one-on-one time with Gina."
Gina looked in from the living room with a little concern.
Samantha picked up her purse from the table. "That's wonderful. I shouldn't be too long." On her way out, she said to Gina, "I do expect you to behave for Daria."
Once her mother was gone, Gina turned to Daria. "Okay, what's up?"
Daria pulled out a chair from the dining table. "Just a little conversation."
Gina came over and sat in it, with her hands folded.
"First off, by all indications, you haven't said anything about Saturday morning. I appreciate that."
"It was fun seeing how embarrassed you were. But, you haven't given me a reason to spill the beans. As a little sister, I have certain duties to keep my brother on his toes."
"I have a younger sister myself; I'm fully aware of your family obligations to annoy."
"But, you two are safe. Do you think I want Mom finding out we were spying on you?"
"I wondered."
"I really do love my brother. Even if he is a goof-ball, he's also been protective of me. I missed that while he was in Boston with you."
"It feels the same for me, too."
"Don't forget, you're still a target. Have to keep you on your toes, too," Gina said and winked.
With a faintly evil, narrow smile Daria said, "I know. But don't you forget. Michael and I work as a team."
Late that evening, Daria sat on Michael's bed. His room was unmistakably one that had belonged to the bearer of a Y-chromosome. The single bed had a plain blue sheet and bedspread. The nearby nightstand was unadorned and held only an alarm clock and a half-read book. His dresser had two drawers partially open, with the edges of several garments hanging over the sides. His computer desk was a complete disarray of papers and books. His wide interest in history was evident from the books in the case and the historical timeline posters on the walls. Daria smiled to notice his windows faced east, and remembered one of hers faced west.
Daria looked down at the faded image of Mark Twain on her nightshirt. She filled out the top more than she did at 17 and it was now a bit tighter around her hips. I guess some things have changed. I actually look female in this now, and I'm not paranoid of being seen in it.
Michael came in wearing shorts and a black t-shirt and sat next to her. "I haven't forgotten Jane's party. Spending the night next to you was a joy."
Daria leaned against him. "Neither have I." And I remember a little more than you do.
He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and kissed her cheek. "I love you."
Daria put her near arm around him and rested her cheek against his chest, barely whispering, "I love you."
For a moment, Michael thought he heard something and very gently hugged her tighter and caressed her back. Did she? I don't want to ask and seem like I'm pushing.
Daria felt the slight change. He couldn't have heard; I could barely hear myself. When she tried again, the butterflies were back. She inwardly sighed and looked up. "I'm a little beat." She gave him a nice kiss and said, "Goodnight."
He released her and rose, offering his hands for her to pull herself up. "Goodnight."
He watched her go down the stairs. Should I just tell her I know? Do I know? Or, am I hoping?
Daria sat on the sofa bed and placed her glasses on the end table. She looked toward the stairs when she heard a door quietly close. She thought of how his embrace had shifted when she spoke and felt a change in her resolve. With certainty, she smiled and said, "Tomorrow."
For lunch, all five sat around a picnic table in the park Daria and Michael had visited before. The table was covered in a red and white checkered tablecloth and provisioned with fried chicken, potato salad, cole slaw, baked beans and dinner rolls from a local deli.
Michael finished a bite of food and asked, "Dad, can I take Daria out in the boat to watch the fireworks tonight?"
Gina said, "Gee, and miss Mom's company barbeque? That must have been a difficult choice to make."
Samantha looked at the two. "A couple of people in my office had been curious about Daria? She gave a half smile, "卋ut if your Father trusts you with his toy, I guess my nosy coworkers can wait."
Ron also looked at them. "Hmmm. We will be losing our excuse to get away from the barbeque early to take Daria to the airport. But, it also means she won't run the risk of being late because we couldn't get away early. Okay, you can use it. But, you're paying for the gas."
Michael reached across the table and shook his hand. "Deal."
Next to the boathouse, Daria shook hands with Samantha, Ron and Gina. "Thanks for having me stay."
Samantha told her, "We enjoyed having you. Have a safe flight back to Boston."
"Thanks. Enjoy the barbeque."
Ron grinned. "We'll try. Enjoy the view from the lake. Until next time." He and Samantha both hugged Daria.
Samantha said, "Take care."
"I will," was Daria's response.
After Samantha and Ron headed for the car, Gina stood for a moment and smirked. "Behave yourself big brother. I like her."
He said, "I'm glad to hear that. Trust me; it's in my best interest to behave."
"Good. Daria, keep the Goof-Ball in line, will you?"
She turned slightly to look up at him. "I can do that."
"Great. Bye, then." She turned and waved as she walked fast to catch up with her parents.
"Bye," Daria and Michael said together. Daria looked at him; he shrugged and said, "Let's get this thing underway."
He stepped down into the boat and turned, holding his hand out for Daria.
Taking his hand and stepping into the boat, she said, "I should warn you the last boat I was on hit a garbage barge and sank."
"I'll try to avoid any collisions."
Michael cranked up the outboard engine and steered the red and white boat at idle speed down the canal toward Lake St. Clair. Once clear, he picked up speed, took the boat offshore about mile from town, and brought it to a stop. Several boats were already scattered widely in the area. Michael crawled onto the bow deck and tossed the anchor out. He went to the stern and set a second anchor. "Keep us from spinning," he explained before sliding a small cooler next to the rear facing pair of seats. "Now, we can sit and watch the town's fireworks."
Soon, the setting of the sun left them illuminated only by the mast light. Across the water, small points of light marked the location of other boats. The wind was light and sky clear as they waited.
The slow rocking with the waves made things seem that much more pleasant. Daria smiled as she leaned against Michael and pulled his arms a little closer around her waist.
Michael lightly leaned his head against hers. "Comfortable?"
"Hmm. Yes."
The fireworks started only slightly late. The view from the lake was spectacular: visually unobstructed and distant enough to soften the reports. As the show continued, Daria began to feel a slight disconnect as she became aware that her only sensation of touch was that of Michael. After several minutes, she gave him a very soft kiss and said, "I love you."
Michael was momentarily caught by surprise. That sounds so wonderful. He lovingly returned the kiss and she rested her head against his shoulder with a contented sigh. He said, "When I first told you I loved you, you had to ask if I meant it. I know I get impulsive at times, but you don't. I know you mean it."
"I'm sorry it took so long."
"Don't. I bet you wanted to be certain, because your honesty demands it."
"Thank you for being patient. I wanted to be sure. I didn't want to be wrong and hurt you."
"It was worth the wait." He kissed her again. "Well worth it."
Holding each other in peaceful contentment, they watched the rest of the fireworks. They passed blissful kisses and soft caresses between themselves and each felt the warmth and caring of the other.
After the show, they wordlessly rode back to the boathouse and tied up the boat. Holding hands, they went to Michael's car. Daria briefly looked in the back seat to make sure she'd remembered her luggage. "I hate to leave."
"You have a plane to catch."
"Plus, I have to go to work and class tomorrow."
She entered the car and he did the same. On impulse, she leaned over and gave him a deep kiss. "Thank you for everything."
"This weekend has been my pleasure."
The trip to the airport also passed in comparative silence as they held hands across the car seat. Neither wanted to break the mood with too much talking. After Michael parked the car, he insisted on carrying her luggage to check-in.
They cuddled together on a bench near her gate as they waited for her flight. When her row number was called for boarding, they both stood. Daria slid her hands around his waist as he wrapped his arms around her shoulders. After a warm kiss, they both said, "I love you," eliciting light laughs from each.
"Please have a good flight, and drive careful when you get home."
"I will. Damn I hate this. I don't want to leave you."
"I know the feeling." Michael smiled at Daria. "Now seems like a good time. My father agreed that I can stay in Boston for the summers from now on."
Daria's eyes opened wide.
Michael nodded. "We won't have to go through this again."
Daria rose up on her toes and kissed him. "You wonderful man. Knowing that will give me the patience to make it through the beginning of fall semester."
"You better get going."
"I suppose. I will be thinking about you."
"As will I. Tonight, you made me the happiest man alive."
Jane stumbled from her room and was instantly alert to the smell of coffee. Following her nose, she found Daria sitting at the table, a cup in her hands, and a glowing smile on her face. Jane grabbed a cup for herself and sat down. "You look awfully chipper for first thing in the morning and after a redeye flight back home."
Daria looked up in surprise. "Oh, you're awake."
Jane waved a hand in front of her friends face. "Earth calling Daria."
Daria continued to smile. "Sorry, just a little distracted."
Jane smirked. "I know you didn't get laid, so what's up?"
Daria completely let the comment go by. "I finally told him."
Jane raised her cup in a toast. "It's about damn time."
Thanks to Martin J. Pollard for detailed information on the Detroit area.
Thanks to Ipswichfan and Kristen Bealer for beta reading.
December 2004-January 2005.