But the pain was just as bad as it had been fifteen years ago. No, he thought as he walked back into his house. Itwas worse now. Now that he knew what could have been. Now that he'd had a taste of that life.

The chair he'd sat in while he'd made love to Daisy was still pushed away from the table. The table where she'dlain while he'd taken her into his mouth. He stared at it as the hole in his gut burned hotter. Burned up into hischest and throat-he about choked on it.

He picked up the chair, carried it out the back door and tossed it into the pitch-black yard. Then he turned andstared at the heavy wooden table that had belonged to his mother. Where they'd eaten family meals.

Where he'd eaten Daisy.

In his present mood, he probably could have picked up the whole damn table and chucked it outside with thechair, but it wouldn't fit out the door. He went to the shed and grabbed his power tools. When he returned, heflipped the table with one hand. It hit the floor with a loud satisfying crash. He popped a beer, fired up his Black&Decker, and got busy.

By the time he was finished, the table was in pieces and lying about the yard along with the chair. He'd gonethrough a six pack and started on a bottle of Johnny Walker. Jack had never been a big drinker. Never thought itsolved a damn thing. Tonight he just wanted to dull the pain.

With glass in hand, he moved from the dining room, passed his open bedroom door. Passed the lamplightshining on his messed up sheets that he was sure still held the scent of her skin. He walked into the living roomand drained his glass. He didn't bother turning on the light. He sat on his black leather sofa. In the dark. Alone.

Light from the kitchen spilled out into the hail and almost reached the toe of his boot. He was tired and beat upfrom the football game and from Daisy, but he knew he wouldn't sleep. He'd told her he loved her and she'd saidit wasn't enough. She wanted more.

He closed his eyes and the room spun. He felt the pitch and roll of his stomach. He'd flicked up. He'd let herinto his life. He'd known better. He'd known she'd carve him up again like he had a big X on his chest. He'd heldhis arms wide and given her a good shot, too.

I'm telling you that you have a right to your anger. Youhave a right to it for the rest of your life. She'd told him.

But it seems to me very lonely company when you can have so much more if you could somehow let it go.

Jack was a man who was used to fixing things. Of working until it was as close to perfect as possible. But heknew his limitations. He knew the impossible when it faced him.

What Daisy asked of him was impossible.

Jack didn't even realize he'd fallen asleep on the couch until Billy's voice woke him up.

"What the hell?"

Jack's eyes opened and he squinted against the light. Billy stood before him wearing his work overalls. "Wha t-"

His mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton and he swallowed. "What are you doing here?"

"It's almost tea. The shop's been open for an hour."

Jack was sprawled out with his feet on the coffee table, and he'd slept with his boots on. He picked his head upfrom the back of the couch and felt like he'd been hit with a brick. "Ah, Christ."

"Have you been drinkin'?"

"Yeah."

"By yourself?"

Jack stood and his stomach roiled. "Sounded like a good idea at the lime." He moved into the kitchen andgrabbed a bottle of orange juice. He raised it to his mouth and drank until his throat wasn't so dry.

"Why are there only five chairs where the table used to be?" Billy asked as he looked across the hail into thedining room.

"I'm redecorating."

Billy glanced at Jack, then returned his gaze to the five remaining chairs. "Where's the table?"

"In the backyard with the missing chair."

"Why?"

"I like it this way."

He moved to the back door and looked out. He let out a low whistle and said, "Having woman trouble?"

Jack reached into a cupboard and pulled out a bottle of aspirin. Woman trouble sounded as if it were fixable.

Like a little fight or squabble.

"Daisy Lee?"

"Yep. She comes back into my life. Fucks it up and leaves it that way."

"Are you sure it's fucked up?"

"Yeah. I'm sure." He swallowed four aspirins and asked, "Has Nathan shown up yet?"

"Yep. Right on time."

"Give me a few minutes to shower and shave and get my shit together, and I'll be there."

"Maybe you should take a day off."

"Can't. Nathan will be leaving in a few weeks, and I want to spend as much time with him as possible."

It took Jack a good forty-five minutes to pull him-self together enough to show up at the garage. His body achedand head pounded.

Nathan looked at him and his brows lowered. "Are you okay?"

"Yes." Jack carefully nodded and sank into the chair behind his desk.

"Did you take too many bad hits in the game yesterday?"

"A few." He'd taken the worst hit after the game.

"What are you doing tonight?"

"I'm going bowling with Brandy Jo." He shifted his weight to one foot and pulled his lip ring into his mouth. "Iwas thinking about kissing her. I think she wants me to, but I don't want to suck at it." His gaze stared intoJack's and he asked, "How did you learn to kiss a girl?"

Jack smiled and his headache subsided at bit. "Lots of practice. And don't worry about not being good at it rightout of the chute. If Brandy Jo really likes you, she'll want to practice with you."

Nathan nodded as if that made sense. "Did you practice with my mom?"

He pretended to give it some thought, but the truth was the memory of the first time he'd kissed Daisy on herporch was imbedded in his mind, eating at his brain like acid. "No, I'd turned pro before I dated your mom."

Nathan sat and they talked about girls and what girls liked to do besides put on makeup and shop. He waspleased to hear that Nathan was thinking about more than just how to make out with Brandy Jo. He wanted tobuy her something nice and do nice things for her.

They talked about cars and Jack was surprised to hear that Nathan was over his obsession with the DodgeDaytona. He now wanted to buy a Mustang, like Jack's Shelby. Nathan was to get his driver's license next week.

Jack saw the snow job a mile away. He'd let Nathan drive the Shelby. Not a problem, as long as Jack was in thecar.

Jack spent the rest of the day at his desk trying to tune out the irritating whine of sanders and power tools.

Around two o'clock, his head quit pounding, but the pain and anger in his chest remained. A constant reminderof what he'd almost had, and what he'd lost.

When Nathan came to work that Thursday, it got a whole lot worse. He mentioned that Daisy was leavingMonday for Seattle. They'd sold their house.

That night as Jack finally dealt with the mess in his backyard, he couldn't help but think of Daisy and how shewas getting on with her life. Moving forward, while he seemed forever stuck in the past.

He put all the pieces to his mother's table in a shed on the side of the house and he stuck the chair in there too.

Maybe he should move. He'd thought of it a time or two. He'd thought of converting the house into more officespace. That in turn would open up more space in the garage.

Jack sat on the back porch and looked out over the yard. He couldn't see tearing it down. The house held toomany memories for him and Billy. It's where he and Steven had dug up the time capsule and read Daisy's diary.

Right in the corner of the yard under the maple tree. It's where they'd buried it too.

He stood, and before he could give himself time to think better of it, he walked to the shed and grabbed ashovel. The earth was packed solid. Sweat ran down the side of his face as he dug for over an hour. It wassomewhere around seven-thirty and the sun was still blazing when the end of the shovel finally hit the old redcan. He exhumed it from its twenty-one-year-old hiding place. The paint was faded and it showed signs of rust.

The plastic lid had turned a dull yellow but was still intact.

Jack took the can to the back porch. He sat on the top step and dumped it out. Green army men, HansSolo and Princess Lea Star Wars figures, and a switch comb fell out first. Next, Jack's "Dukes of Hazzard"

Matchbox car, a whistle and a pack of trick gum. Daisy's diary, a fuzzy pink barrette, and a cheap ring withabout a three-carat hunk of glass fell on top of the pile. She'd said he'd given her the ring. He didn't remember it,though.

He picked up the ring and put it in his breast pocket. He reached for the little white book with a yellow rose onit, the lock busted from the last time he'd held it in his hands. The pages had yellowed and the ink had dulled.

He leaned forward, rested his forearms on the tops of his knees, and read:Mr. Skittles bit Lily on the nose today. I think she was trying to kiss him, Daisy had written when they'd allbeen in about the sixth grade. My mom put a stupid Snow White in our front yard. It's soooooo embarrassing.

Jack smiled and flipped passed references of her cat and yard decoration. He stopped when he saw his name.

Jack got in big trouble for climbing on the roof at school. He had to stay after and I think he got a whooping.

He said he didn't care, but he looked sad. It made me sad too. Steven and I walked home without him. Stevensaid lack would be okay.

Jack remembered that. He hadn't gotten whooped, but he'd had to wash all the windows in the school. His gazeskimmed past more entries about her cat, what they'd all had for dinner, and about the weather.

Jack yelled at me today. He called me a stupid girl and told me to go home. I cried and Steven told me Jackdidn't really mean it.