Daisy (19 page)

Paul came home around eight thirty—Paige and Stormy had already left—and we snuggled in bed with popcorn while watching a movie together. It felt so perfect, so comfortable and normal and right, but we still skirted that electric fence, smiling at one another and being kind, but not going too deep. I didn’t know how long I could do this, but I wasn’t ready to discuss it either. My conversation with Paige kept coming back to me.
One day at a time. Don’t miss the present by worrying about the what-ifs.
I fell asleep beside Paul and woke in time to watch him sleep for a little while before he got up. I enjoyed those moments immensely.

He eventually got going for the day, running errands, taking care of household chores, catching up on work he’d missed because of yesterday’s conference. I lay in bed and got lost in
The Help
again. By the time I finished the book that afternoon, I had a whole pile of tissues beside me. I didn’t know what to think of it. On the one hand, it was beautiful and educational and so well written. On the other hand, it was raw in places, and it made me so angry. The most uncomfortable part, though, was that, once again, it didn’t have a happy ending. Maybe it was happy enough, but it wasn’t happy-happy. I had wanted a happy-happy ending. I had wanted big changes and amazing discoveries. Instead, every character went on with their life pretty much as they had been in the beginning, only wiser for what they had experienced together. Good things were on the horizon for some, but bad things were coming for others. It wasn’t fair.

And yet one line stood out to me. Toward the end of the book, one of the characters reflected on the fact that while things weren’t perfect, she felt that everything had turned out the way it was supposed to.

Why did that make me uncomfortable?

Paul started straightening up for book group while I continued to ruminate on
The Help.
I hated feeling like an invalid, and then I felt like an escaped convict when I got up to take my shower for the day. I hadn’t had any additional spotting since Thursday, which, to me, seemed like proof that remaining on bed rest was silly, but I didn’t dare risk it, so I took my three-minute shower and then pulled my hair into a sloppy bun to save me from having to do anything with it. I did my makeup in bed and felt better once I could smile at myself in the mirror and admit I looked human for the first time in three days. I was pathetically excited about book group tonight. Paul, though gracious to prepare the house, disappeared into the bedroom as soon as the first attendee, Paige, arrived.

I’d chosen to wear a powder-blue top Paige had helped me pick out a couple of weeks ago. It looked huge until I put it on and frowned at how snug it was. The stretchy maternity capris were just as unflattering, but at least my toes were still cute from my last pedicure. If nothing else, I had glittery toes. I was on the love seat when Paige came in holding a pie tin; she was wearing a green top that made her eyes sparkle. She set her purse by the door and headed into the kitchen.

“What did you bring?”

“Lime cheesecake,” she said from the other room.

“Key lime?”

“No, uh, lime Jell-O cheesecake. It’s out of this ward cookbook I have.”

“Ward?”

“Oh, a
ward
is a Mormon congregation,” she said, reappearing. I didn’t ask any more questions but wondered if they realized how strange it was to depict a group of religious people as a
ward.
She hugged me before pulling back and looking me over. “You look great.”

“I’m telling your minister you’re a liar. What’s his number?”

“I don’t have a minister. Mormons have bishops. And you aren’t getting his name
or
his number.” Paige laughed and sat down, pulling her trim little legs up underneath her and leaning her elbow on the arm of the couch. She opened her mouth to say something just as the doorbell rang, and she popped up to answer it.

It was Ruby, decked out in a shimmery blue blouse over black pants. She immediately swooped in, and I reached up to get as much of her powder-smelling hug as possible. When she pulled back, she asked all kinds of questions about how I was doing and what I needed. I assured her that I had all my needs met, grateful that she didn’t know about Paul’s leaving and subsequent return.

Athena came in right behind her, still looking burdened and beautiful. She didn’t come over and hug me, but we didn’t really have a huggy relationship, so that was okay. Ruby hugged her, however; Ruby had a huggy relationship with everyone. She informed us that both Shannon and Ilana were unable to make it. I was disappointed, but I hadn’t connected with them as much as I had with the others so I didn’t necessarily miss them. I hoped the change of location from Ruby’s house to my house hadn’t made it too far out of their way.

Livvy was the last to arrive and apologized profusely for being late. It took me a moment to realize what was different about her.

“Your hair,” I heard myself say after I figured it out. “It looks awesome.”

My announcement made her the object of everyone’s attention, and she reached up and smoothed her hair that had recently been colored a beautiful burnished brown. It was a very nice fit for the red flush that had crept up into her cheeks. It was cut in an A-line bob and was perfect for her.

“You like it?” she asked.

We all assured her that it looked wonderful, and I could tell from her smile that she appreciated the feedback but was hesitant to believe it completely. “I was ready for a change,” she said by way of explanation, still standing just inside the doorway.

“Well, it was a good one,” Paige said.

As though suddenly realizing she was still the center of attention, Livvy quickly sat on the couch between Paige and Athena, but she was smiling. I wondered what had happened since that day she’d come to my rescue three weeks ago. She looked different, and it wasn’t just the hair.

“So,” Ruby said from her spot on the kitchen chair Paul had brought in earlier. She looked directly at me. “You need to give us a bit of an update, young lady. An awful lot has happened since we met in December.”

That was the understatement of the New Year. I gave them a quick recap, pointing out Paige and Livvy’s roles in the story, though I didn’t delve into the emotional train wreck I’d been all month. They asked for pictures of Tennyson, and I passed my phone around, over which they all oohed and aahed.

“So, anyway,” I said, concluding my saga. “I’ll see what the doctor says next week. Until then, I am your token bump on a log, but I sure appreciate you guys coming all the way up here tonight. I’d have hated to miss it.”

“Of course, of course,” Ruby said, waving it away. “Athena was gracious enough to have picked me up on her way. We had a wonderful visit.” She turned her attention to Athena, who suddenly had a look on her face that seemed to hold a certain hesitation. “Athena’s had a big month too.”

All eyes were on Athena, which was fine by me since that meant no one was looking at me anymore.

Athena smiled, shy and uncomfortable, and the silence stretched for a few seconds too long. I knew Ruby was waiting for Athena to confess all, but obviously Athena wasn’t ready for that. I felt bad she’d missed the November book group and had so many things put on her plate since losing her mom that I hadn’t gotten to know her as well as I had the other women.

“So,” Paige said, breaking the silence.
“Silas Marner.”
The topic had been officially changed. “As I said last month, I chose this one because it was short—always nice for the holidays—and because it had kind of a Christmas message. I read this the first time in high school, and I liked it then, but I found that reading it now was even more powerful. Now that I have kids of my own . . .” She paused and looked at me as though for some support. I smiled, though I didn’t know what I was encouraging her to do, exactly. “Like Silas, I’ve felt mistreated by some people I trusted.”

Ouch. And yet it was fair, even if it embarrassed me. I also knew she wasn’t talking about me specifically. She had far more hurts to deal with than what I’d added to her shoulders.

She continued. “Both of those things stood out to me in regard to Silas’s story, and I felt like I was reading it on a different level than I had before. What did you guys think?”

We all looked at each other, waiting for someone to speak. Ruby was the first who did so. She talked about how she’d always loved the classics but hadn’t read this one for years and years, but it made her remember what it was about classic literature that she so appreciated. Her thoughts somehow ended up on her college years—I didn’t know she had her master’s degree in English literature—and what she felt set
Silas Marner
apart from the other books of its day. It was a fascinating lecture. When she finished, she turned to me and raised her eyebrows.

“Oh, I really liked it,” I said, smoothing my hand over the front cover.

“Well, not at first,” Paige said, trying to hide a smile.

My gaze flicked toward Paige, and my mouth curved up. “But once I really gave it a chance, I was struck by the fact that some of the most horrible things that happened to Silas were actually building blocks that prepared him to be the man he was by the end of the book. That was refreshing to me.”

“I noticed that too,” Athena said. “Up until he found Eppie, it was like he wasn’t really there. I mean, it was as though he didn’t even remember his life or his relationships before he came to Raveloe—like they were a dream. It was like he was asleep, so absorbed by his gold, caring and seeing nothing else. And then Eppie came into his life and became everything to him—she brought all of his life lessons to a head and solidified his life. Does that make sense?”

“That’s a great way to put it,” Ruby said. “Solidified, became whole.”

The comments brought a lump to my throat; all I could do was nod. Was that not an analogy for life, trying to find wholeness? With people we loved, with accomplishments and personal growth?

“The people we love have so much power,” Athena said, but a sadness had crept into her voice. “I told you about my mom’s life. She was an amazing person. She loved the people in her life. She gave them everything she had. I miss that . . . I mean, her.” She looked up and smiled at all of us in a nervous way. “I mean, I miss her.”

But we’d all noted the slip. Athena was young, but not that young, and I wondered if she were worried about not having that kind of love in her life again.

“How’s your dad?” Livvy asked.

Athena took a breath and shook her head slightly. “I finally did it. He went into the care center right after Christmas,” she said quietly, looking at her hands in her lap.

“You did the right thing,” I said, wanting to reassure her.

“Thank you,” she said.

Livvy patted her knee. “I’m sure he’s being very well taken care of.”

“He is,” Athena said, blinking rapidly, as though the crack in her voice hadn’t already betrayed how difficult this was for her to talk about. Livvy put her arm around her, and Athena finally dropped the veil she’d been working so hard to hold up. “He’s all alone in there. I feel like I should have done more, especially with my mother gone.”

“Dear Athena,” Ruby interrupted, leaning forward. “Your mother would have done the same thing.”

“You don’t know my mother,” Athena said.

“How is he when you visit?” Paige asked.

“He’s in his own world,” Athena said, sounding tired. “I don’t remember the last time he called me by name.”

“It’s a terrible disease,” Paige said in a sympathetic voice. “But you did the right thing.”

Athena looked around at us as though realizing that we weren’t just here, we were
here.
We cared. I knew she didn’t have the kind of relationship with her mother like I did with mine; she missed her so much. I tried to remember what I knew about her family. I knew she had a sister, but if Athena was shouldering the burden of deciding on the care for their father, it was no wonder that she felt so alone.

“We can trade off and visit your father with you,” Ruby offered. “Maybe having some company will help you put things in perspective.”

We all nodded in agreement, and I hoped I’d be off restrictions so that I could do my part.

“Thanks, everyone,” Athena whispered.

Livvy handed her a Kleenex she’d seemingly produced by magic.

“And while I’m spilling my heart, Grey and I broke up,” she said, dabbing at her eyes. She held up her hand before any of us could start in on the questions. “Don’t worry, I’m fine. It turns out he wasn’t so perfect after all.”

“Are they ever?” I said automatically as everyone else shared their sympathy, then I glanced at the doorway to make sure Paul hadn’t overheard me. I wanted to know if the door between Athena and Grey was completely closed or still partway open, but Ruby cut in, for which Athena looked relieved.

“Livvy,” Ruby said. “We haven’t heard your thoughts on the book.”

“Oh, um, I liked it,” Livvy said. She smiled but it was plastic. “You guys have pretty much summed up my thoughts. It was a touching story.”

“It was, wasn’t it?” Ruby mused. “I’m very glad you chose it, Paige.”

“Me, too,” I said, casting a look at Livvy. There was a crease in her forehead, and she looked a little distracted. I had a feeling she hadn’t even read the book.

“Good,” Paige said. “I’m glad everyone enjoyed it. Daisy, it’s your month to choose one.”

“Oh, really?” I said. The baby chose that moment to do a flip, and I put my hand on my belly to recenter myself. I still wasn’t used to the sensations of pregnancy. “Um, well, Paige brought me some books. One of them,
The Help,
was really good. I know there was a movie, but I never saw it.” I looked around and saw that Paul had set my copy of the book on top of the TV when he’d cleaned up. I pointed at it.

Paige picked it up and handed it to me. “I really liked this book and the movie,” she said. “I only know about the Civil Rights movement from the History Channel and movies, but I felt like this really got to the heart of the situation. I had no idea what it was really like, for both sides.”