Free Daisy by Josi S. Kilpack

followed. We ended up laughing over how often December found herself running for the bathroom now that she was six months pregnant, and how she and Lance were still arguing over names for their son. She was fighting for the name Tennyson—her favorite British poet—while Lance wanted something more traditional, Matthew or Samuel.
    Whenever I came across Stormy’s things in the house, I put them on her bed, waiting for her to start coming around and letting us repair the chasm between us. She didn’t visit, though. Instead, she tried out for her new high school’s play— Phantom of the Opera —and got a part as a ballet dancer, which she was really excited about. She’d met a couple of girls she hung out with now and then. I called her every day, but she only answered a couple of times a week, and our conversations were short and superficial. Still, overall, the change seemed to be as positive as Jared had assured me it would be.
    By the time my anniversary trip weekend with Paul came around—Halloween weekend—it almost seemed superfluous to go anywhere. We had so much time together these days that it seemed silly to spend the extra money to go to Mexico like Paul had planned. But it was all reserved, so we went. Paul went parasailing while I soaked up the sun and noted that while my waistline was shrinking—I had officially fit into my size ten swimsuit—I was falling out of the top. I sure didn’t remember that being a problem the last time I’d worn it, although Paul didn’t seem to mind.
    I’d always loved Mexico, but I couldn’t tolerate the molé—which was my favorite. It sent me running to the bathroom to throw up as soon as we got back from the restaurant, and then kept me up half the night with heartburn. Nothing I ate sat well after that, so I settled on rice and tortillas for the rest of the trip. Paul gave me a new handbag as an anniversary gift, a beautiful red leather case that would fit my laptop and most of the contents of my purse. I gave him a battery-powered GPS unit he could use while hunting or hiking. Computer nerd Monday through Friday, outdoorsman on the weekends, was a pretty good description of the man I’d married.
    I tried to get comfortable with this new life, the first time in more than two and a half decades that there wasn’t a little person demanding to be taken care of, but my freedoms felt like failures somehow.
    As the first Saturday in November approached—the date of my second book group—I found myself more and more excited to go. I had finished The Poisonwood Bible and while I didn’t necessarily like the story—it was a very sad commentary about the effect one person’s choices can have on everyone else’s—I loved the writing and looked forward to discussing it. I barely knew the other women in the group, so it wasn’t that I was excited to see them. Then I realized, with even more regret, that as much as I enjoyed being with Paul, I was looking forward to spending an evening with someone else. With women. He was wonderful, but I needed some texture. Book group offered something that had nothing to do with the rest of my life, and I was excited to take a break.
    You really are a horrible person, Daisy, I thought.

Chapter 11
    There were already two cars at Ruby’s when I arrived at book group. I’d been fifteen minutes early last time, and I wished I’d gotten my act together quicker this time as well. I took a minute to adjust my makeup and return Paul’s text about what time I expected to be home.
    Ruby must have been waiting right by the door because she opened it almost before the doorbell chime had stopped reverberating.
    “Oh, Daisy, honey,” Ruby said, spreading her arms and wrapping me up in a wonderful hug. Once released, she immediately turned toward the living room and I followed. “I’m so glad you’re here,” she said over her shoulder. She wore a plum-colored suit with a jacket long enough that it flowed behind her like a cape. I’d