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Back Ladies of the House Save as PDF
Chapters (59)
  1. Cover
  2. About the Author
  3. Praise
  4. Dedication
  5. Epigraph
  6. January
  7. One
  8. Two
  9. Three
  10. Four
  11. Five
  12. February
  13. Six
  14. Seven
  15. Eight
  16. Nine
  17. Ten
  18. Eleven
  19. Twelve
  20. March
  21. Thirteen
  22. Fourteen
  23. Fifteen
  24. Sixteen
  25. April
  26. Seventeen
  27. Eighteen
  28. Nineteen
  29. Twenty
  30. Twenty-One
  31. Twenty-Two
  32. Twenty-Three
  33. Twenty-Four
  34. Twenty-Five
  35. May
  36. Twenty-Six
  37. Twenty-Seven
  38. Twenty-Eight
  39. Twenty-Nine
  40. Thirty
  41. Thirty-One
  42. June
  43. Thirty-Two
  44. Thirty-Three
  45. Thirty-Four
  46. Thirty-Five
  47. Thirty-Six
  48. Thirty-Seven
  49. Thirty-Eight
  50. Thirty-Nine
  51. Forty
  52. July
  53. Forty-One
  54. Epilogue
  55. Acknowledgments
  56. Author’s Note
  57. Ladies of the House - Reader’s Guide
  58. Questions For Discussion
  59. Excerpt

A few minutes earlier, I’d been drinking champagne, feeling like I maybe had it together, feeling grand about it all. Now, all I could do was croak the first thing that came to mind. “Wonderful,” I said.

“You have to say something,” said Wallis. “He loves you, I know he does.”

“I agree,” said Cricket. “Stand up and yell I object!”

“I won’t,” I said. “If he loved me, that ring wouldn’t be on her finger.”

“If he knew how you felt—” said my mother.

“Daisy is right,” said Wallis. “No, Mom, stop making that face and listen. Daisy is right. Atlas has made his choice. Why is it up to Daisy to tell him he’s wrong?”

We heard applause from the other room, and the sound of a commercial. My segment had concluded. I pushed my sister’s phone away, left the kitchen. My heart was ruined, but it wouldn’t do to abandon our guests, who were rising from their seats, patting me on the back, high-fiving, telling me bravo.

Thank you, was my mantra, and I said it again and again. Aw, thanks.

Wallis and Cricket trailed me out of the kitchen; someone found the remote and turned off the television. Wallis clinked her glass, inviting everyone’s attention, and made a lovely toast in my honor. Afterward, L.K. said she’d send me the video of it. More surprises—party hats with daisies on them, a sheet cake with my face on it. It was the picture that had appeared with Atlas’s article.

Cricket sliced me a corner, and while everyone else waited to be served, I ate my part of my forehead in my mother’s dark bedroom, where I’d slunk off to check my phone. There had been a text from Atlas waiting for me:

I’m so sorry I couldn’t be at your party. Were you surprised? Hope you’re having a ball. You deserve all the champagne and cake in the world. Save me a piece, will you?

Alone with the coats and purses, I cried tears that were both happy and sad because I felt both whole and empty. Eventually, someone called my name from the living room. I left my phone on the dresser, used the side of my plastic fork to savor the last bit of blue icing, then went back to my party.

Forty