As Susan read out each entry, Esther added them to the board. Moving on to Tuesday, she wrote in five more meetings, two of which clashed.

“Seriously, Daisy, how, exactly, did you plan to attend two different clubs at opposite ends of the city scheduled for exactly the same time?” Susan asked. “Were you planning on splitting yourself in two like a sociable amoeba?”

A faint whimper emerged as Daisy shrugged. “I thought maybe I could FaceTime the Debating Society while doing origami.”

“If there’s anyone in this world capable of delivering a speech in favor of”—Susan leaned across to check the e-mail—“compulsory pasteurization of Continental cheeses while folding a paper strawberry, it’s you.”

“Actually, I was only going to listen. Apparently my debating style is too feisty for those thin-skinned public-school boys.”

Susan cast Daisy an affectionate look. “That’s my girl.”

Three meetings scheduled for Wednesday. Six on Thursday . . . three, four, and seven on Sunday.

“Written out like this, it does look like quite a lot,” Daisy admitted.

“You think? I’m exhausted just reading it.” Susan took the pen from Esther and stepped forward. She crossed out anything that interfered with Daisy’s course, which eliminated Comic Club and Marble Enthusiasts. “Now for anything that clashes. Go with your gut. Debating or Origami?”

“Origami,” Daisy said without hesitation, and Susan put a line through debating.

“Esther, unsubscribe Daisy from the list.”

“On it.” Esther hammered out a polite request to be excused from further meetings and clicked the unsubscribe button, looking over Daisy’s shoulder as she removed herself from the group chat.

“Tiddlywinks or Beekeeping?”

“Ooh . . . that’s a hard one . . .” Daisy pondered for a few seconds. “I mean . . . I like bees, but am I ever going to own a hive . . .”

Esther started playing the Countdown theme on her phone, and Daisy grew increasingly flustered before exclaiming, “BEES! I CHOOSE BEES.”

They eliminated two more clubs this way, but that still left Daisy with an impossible twenty-six memberships. After an hour discussing the merits of each, all three of them had lost the will to live, and an alarm sounded on Daisy’s phone.

“I’ve got to go!” She started gathering her things and pointed at the 9:00 P.M. meeting scheduled for Tuesday. “I’ve got a Nicolas Cage Club meeting to attend . . .”

“No, Daisy!” Esther leaped in front of her to bar her exit. “You’ve got to break the cycle. You don’t even know who Nicolas Cage is.”

“Yes, I do! He’s the man who wrote The Notebook.”

“No, you’re muddling him up with the Nicholas Sparks Club. That’s not till Friday.”

“BUT I NEED TO GET TO MY MEETING!”