You Know My Name, Not My Story

Something Old VIII: Rough Days

Philip's POV

'Seriously, Philip? What are you trying to do now?' I thought in my mind.

"I don't know, maybe because I am just a broke peasant and you are the son of one of the most important people in America?" she said sarcastically before getting up.

"Don't you think I would've told you to leave earlier, before you knew my name? Why wouldn't I want you now?" I asked, begging her to stay.

I didn't know why I wanted to stay with Daisy but she seemed so peaceful and calm. She was also very kind. We've only known each other for a while but I felt like it's been years.
She made me forget about all my problems, considering Alice.

Daisy smiled and sat down.

"Thank you." she smiled.

I smiled back at her and we kept on talking until the sun was out.

We had a lot in common except our family issues. She was open minded and we both loved writing poems and painting.

I felt like the time froze as we talked. The conversation was very entertaining. She explained a lot about Virginia and her family. I told her about my favourite things such as my favourite authors, books, plays, painters but also other personal things.

Everything was going well until a woman called her from far away.

"Oh, it's my mother. I should probably go. It was very nice to meet you, Philip. I hope we can see each other another day." she said as she got up. I got up after her.

"It was a huge pleasure, Daisy. What do you say if we meet this Saturday in this exact spot the afternoon?" I asked without any hesitation.

"I'd be very happy. See you on Saturday, then!" she said as she ran away to her mother.

I sighed then thought about what just happened.

'Oh boy, what have you done? Did you lost your mind or something? You can't just invite the first girl you meet to some sort of a date! You have a girlfriend!' I thought as I got mad at myself.

I took the bread and jam, throw the bottle of beer away and walked back to my house.
I was a bit tired, maybe alcohol made me like that, I never drink, it was new to me.

I stood in front of our house, staring at it, for a few minutes.

I finally opened the door.
It was warm and it smelled scrambled eggs. My mother was in the kitchen preparing breakfast. She was still in her blue night gown and her hair was in a half up-do. She saw me entering the kitchen.

"Where were you this early?" she asked me.

"I went to get bread and jam for the family." I said hesitantly showing her what I got.

"You mean the half of the family?" she joked looking at the half eaten bread.

I laughed nervously and put down the bag on the table. She hugged me and gave a kiss on my forehead. I loved my mother more than anything. She taught me so much.