Free The Noon God by Donna Carrick

it the week before he died.”
    “ Is it good?”
    “ Better than good. But now’s not the time. After the funeral you can take it home with you. Give it a read, then we’ll talk.”
    “ How are you holding up?”
    “ Not so good, Andy.” I rubbed my eyes, suddenly aware of the throbbing pain that was taking over my senses.
    “ Hang in there, kid. You’re his girl.”
    “ I know. I’ll see you next week.”
    “ Call me if you need anything.”
    “ OK. And Andy, just so you know, it’s his best work.”
    He let his breath out slowly. “Better than Under the Moon?”
    “ Yeah. I’m letting it go ‘as is’.”
    “ I’ll get the wheels in motion before I come up.”
    “ Thanks, Andy.”
    I leaned back in Daddy’s oversized leather chair and rubbed the spot between my eyes. It didn’t help. Wearily I pulled the manuscript pages from my bag and smoothed them out on the desk. I might as well plough through my second reading. So far I’d found only one typo and no other changes but I knew Andy shared my father’s love of excellence. Before I gave him the copy it would have to be perfect.
    The words glared at me under Daddy’s brilliant reading light. I usually preferred a softer light for reading and my headache was worsening. I turned off the lamp and opened the heavy curtain instead, turning the chair to catch the natural light.
    The letters swam in front of my weary eyes. Finally I was forced to give up the effort. I closed the drapes and sat back in the chair, allowing the darkness to comfort me. What was it Yeats had said? Memories. Nothing but memories.
    ~~
    The problems between Ben and me didn’t start right away, but the groundwork was laid the moment our honeymoon was over. Daddy chose to go into a snit during our ‘welcome home’ dinner. He had not expected me to change my name to Williams. It had not occurred to him I might prefer to use my husband’s name instead of my father’s.
    “Desdemona Fortune,” he said, “that’s what we named you. It’s a perfectly good name. I thought this was the nineties. Does a woman still have to deny her individuality to appease a mate? Desdemona Williams – what the hell is that?”
    “It’s my name, Daddy,” I said quietly. Ben was upstairs unpacking. I didn’t want him to overhear the argument. “I don’t want to have this discussion. I’ve made my decision.”
    Daddy stomped off to his study to sulk. I dared to hope I’d heard the last of his complaints. I liked the name Desdemona Fortune, but I knew Ben would be hurt if I didn’t take his name. He was my husband. His feelings had to overrule Daddy’s surliness and my own vanity.
    Gail stayed sober. In fact, she abandoned her moody attitude and seemed to be determined to rejoin the human race. I didn’t know what had changed in her life, but I was grateful for the result. She laughed, smiled and hugged us all easily. When she went up to bed she even leaned over and kissed me on the cheek.
    “I love you,” she said. I nearly choked on my surprise.
    “I love you, too. Good night.”
    Gail stayed close to home for the two weeks while Ben and I waited for our new house to be ready. She helped with the housework and even helped us to pack. We went shopping for curtains and furniture. It was fun to spend the money Ben and I had received from Daddy’s circle of friends. Even Ben had to agree there was a positive side to having a big wedding. Gail and I roamed the shops with Lucy in tow.
    Moving day finally arrived. We spent the day at the new house, scrubbing and supervising the movers. When everything was done I ordered pizza. We sat around on boxes drinking pop and laughing.
    Our new bed hadn’t arrived yet so Ben and I pumped up air mattresses. Daddy opened a bottle of Champagne and served drinks all around to ‘Christen’ our home. Then he rounded up the family and said goodnight.
    Daddy and Lucy dropped Uncle Willard off on the way to their house. Gail stayed behind to help me in the