Daisy's daughter's ex.

Dylan was the last boy Summer, Daisy’s daughter, had dated before marrying Caleb. In truth, he looked a lot like a shorter, scrawnier version of Caleb. Otherwise, with round faces, pronounced jowls, and their ballcaps, the two of them could be twins down to the cut-off sleeves of Dylan’s shirt. The same could be said of many of the young boys where she lived, however. Daisy’s own husband, Willy, was very much cut from the same camo-wearing cloth. In fact, the fishhooks on Dylan’s hat evoke memories of every man she has dated since high school.

Dylan gave her an easy smile as he spoke. He wore his shirt with the sleeves cut off, showing his slender, farm-tanned arms with a hint of underarm hair. He wasn’t particularly muscular but, looking at him, Daisy felt a hint of arousal. It was the fashion of the town, but it looked good on him. “How’s Summer doing,” he asked.

Daisy smiled back in a sad, commiserating way. “It’s hard for everyone, but it’s definitely hardest for her.” Daisy returned to shopping, moving through the store with Dylan following her. She could feel his gaze roaming her body, but it didn’t bother her. It was flattering to think a boy so much younger than her would still find her attractive.

“I can imagine,” he said. “Must be really hurtful to know what a coward she married, huh?”

Daisy paused in her shopping and turned to glare at him. “Excuse me?”

Dylan stuffed his hands into his pockets and retreated a few steps. He tried to shrug nonchalantly. “I’m just saying, what kind of man takes his own life when he’s got kids to feed? Pathetic, really.”

Frowning the frown of a married woman and a mother, the frown she used to keep her family from every repeating their mistakes again, she left Dylan quiet. “You’re lucky that we’re in public,” she said. “Because if we weren’t, you’d be knocked straight into the wall, do you understand me?”

Dylan lifted his hands up in front of him like a wall between them. “Didn’t mean nothing by it. Just thought you’d be angry at him for being such a coward, too.”

“How I feel about him, or how Summer feels about him, is none of your God damn business. Whatever Caleb did, he was her husband and he was the father of her children. You might think you get an opinion, but you were only a boy, and you’re still acting like a boy. So, watch your damn mouth!”

Still with his hands between them, Dylan grinned. “Fine, fine. I’m just saying that I wouldn’t run away like that. Real men ain’t like that.”

“Real men don’t talk shit on the dead, either,” Daisy snapped. “And I can promise you, even after death, Caleb is twice the man you could ever be. Got it? Now, get!”

“I’m getting,” Dylan said, laughing as he retreated down the aisle and around a corner. Once out of view of him, Daisy sighed and glared at the empty space where he had been. It took a few deep breathes before she was able to finish shopping, and she didn’t see him the rest of the way inside of the store. After paying and returning to the parking lot, however, she did find him waiting by the driver’s side of her SUV. Daisy met him with a renewed glare. “What do you want?”

Dylan stood still as Daisy pushed by him, or at least tried to. Daisy was not a big woman. Where she came from, women were to be dainty but domineering. She ran her house on tradition, not on muscle. She didn’t have the strength to bypass Dylan, who kept himself in front of her car door as she tried. “I just wanted to apologize for how I acted in there,” Dylan said.

Daisy regarded him with her arms over her chest—a feat considering the size of her breasts—and she held her glare fixed firmly on him. Dylan responded by staring openly and brazenly at her breasts. “You should be sorry,” Daisy said. “Caleb wasn’t a perfect man, but he was my son-in-law and the father of my grandchildren.” Suddenly smiling afterward, Daisy added, “And if I remember correctly, he did kick your sorry ass when he first started dating Summer, didn’t he?”

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