No, she didn’t; she didn’t want to hurt anyone, even him. But enough was enough, and she wasn’t going to put up with this another second. If he wanted to arrest her, he’d have to stop laughing to do it, because she was leaving, and taking her PartyPak with her.
He held up his left hand to ward her off as she approached, evidently thinking she was going to hit him, though that didn’t stop the chortles and wheezes. Daisy snatched the box away from him and said, “Adolescent!” in her most freezing tones, and marched away.
“W-wait!” she heard him gasp. “Daisy!”
She didn’t stop marching, or even turn around. Fury propelled her all the way across the square to the library and up the two marble steps to the front door. She paused there, taking deep breaths in an effort to appear composed, then breezed through the door and up to the checkout desk as if she were Miss America. It was only when she reached out to raise the counter barrier that she realized she held the PartyPak in her hand, and there was no white paper sack covering it.
Kendra was behind the desk, and of course she immediately looked at what Daisy was carrying. Her eyes popped open so wide, white showed all the way around the irises. “Daisy! What—” She stopped, remembering where they were and that she should lower her voice. She pointed mutely at the box.
Everything else had failed her, so Daisy tried for nonchalance. “This?” she asked, lifting the box as if she couldn’t understand Kendra’s reaction. “It’s just a box of condoms.” Then she sailed into her office, shut the door, and collapsed in her chair.
“I hear you bought some condoms,” Todd said on the phone that evening, his amusement clear even through the telephone line.
“You, my mother and aunt, half the church, and all of the neighborhood,” Daisy said, and sighed. After all, that had been her plan. Sort of.
“And that you and our illustrious chief used half the box during lunch hour.”
“I went straight back to the library!” she wailed. “I knew that’s what Barbara Clud would say, the gossiping busybody! He wasn’t with me; he just came up while I was checking out.”
“She also said he didn’t buy anything, said he was in a hurry, and left with you.”
“This is going to ruin everything.” She sighed and sat down at the breakfast table, having taken the call in the kitchen. Her mother and Aunt Jo were watching television, as usual.
“How’s that?”
“If everyone thinks Chief Russo and I are having a—a thing—”
“An affair,” Todd supplied.
“—then no other men will come near me! How am I going to find a husband if no one will ask me out because they think the chief of police wouldn’t like it?”
“I can see where that would be a problem. He’s a big bruiser.”
“Well, that takes care of all the local men, so I bought those condoms for nothing.”
“I’m not certain I understand. Are you saying only local men could use them?”
“Oh, I’m not planning on using them. I knew Barbara would get the word out I’d bought them, and then some of the single men in town would find out I’m available, and modern, and things like that, and they’d be interested enough to at least check me out. That’s how it worked in theory,” she said glumly. “In reality, the chief ruined everything. Now I’ll have to concentrate on the nightclub men.”
“Are you going out tonight?” he asked.
“No, there’s too much to do getting my house ready. Buck Latham is finished painting, so now I have to clean and look for furniture, buy appliances, that sort of thing.”
“What style of furniture are you looking for?”
“Well, the house is small, so I’m aiming for cozy and comfortable. Whatever style that is, that’s what I want.”
“Does it have to be new? Or would you like some individual older pieces? We can pick those up at auctions for a fraction of what you would pay in a furniture store for something new.”
The idea of saving money always interested Daisy. “I’ve never been to an auction. Where is one, and when?”
“Everywhere, and always,” he drawled. “I’ll find one for tomorrow night, and we’ll have that house decorated before you know it”
Daisy moved into her little house on Friday, after a whirlwind of preparations that left her no time to fume about the way Chief Russo had sabotaged her condom plan. She was so busy she didn’t really mind the way some people whispered behind their hands when they saw her. This was the twenty-first century, after all; it was no big deal to buy condoms, even in Hillsboro. A lot of people did, or Cyrus Clud wouldn’t carry such a large supply.
For the most part, she didn’t have time to think about anything except the herculean task of moving. She had never let herself buy things to put away for when she got married and had her own home, because that would have been like admitting she wasn’t satisfied with her life. Well, she wasn’t satisfied, but now she was admitting it—and doing something about it.
She still wasn’t married, but she had her own house. So what if it was a tiny rental in a run-down neighbor-hood? It had a fenced backyard, she was going to get a dog, and it was her very own place. Unfortunately, because she’d never bought any household things beyond her own bed linens, that meant she had to endure some shopping marathons to get stocked up on the thousand and one items needed to set up house-keeping.
She bought curtains and cookware, stocked up on groceries and household items, bought brooms and a vacuum cleaner and a dust mop—her own vacuum cleaner! She was ecstatic—and worked every spare hour cleaning and getting things put away.