Chapters (59)
- Cover
- About the Author
- Praise
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- January
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- February
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- March
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- April
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- May
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- June
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- July
- Forty-One
- Epilogue
- Acknowledgments
- Author’s Note
- Ladies of the House - Reader’s Guide
- Questions For Discussion
- Excerpt
“I want to talk about something else,” Wallis said. “Let’s talk about Atlas. I’m so looking forward to seeing him at this miserable fucking wedding. How is he?”
“He’s good,” I answered, as honestly as I dared. “I mean, he’s happy with his work, and generally still the good person he’s always been.”
“It’s a shame he’s still traveling so much. It’s a shame all he does is work, period.”
“A shame?” I asked. “Why would he not devote his life to his work? It’s important and he loves it.”
“I didn’t mean it like that, Dodo. And anyway, it doesn’t matter what I think. It matters what you think. What you feel, I should say.”
“I think he’s honest. He’s an amazing journalist. Always compassionate, even when people are yelling obscenities at him. Levelheaded in situations that would send me running for a cliff.” I chose my next words carefully. “I admire him so much. I respect what he’s doing for journalism and this country.”
“You respect him?” Wallis threw her hands over her face. “You admire him? Oh my God, Daisy, you’re killing me.”
“I can’t do anything more than admire him,” I said. “Don’t encourage me to do more.”
“You’ve done it!” Wallis cried, all drama. “I’m dead.”
“He has a girlfriend,” I reminded her, again. “He always seems to have a girlfriend. This one is especially gorgeous. I’ve seen her picture. Besides, if he liked me that way, he would’ve done something about it by now.”
“But—” Wallis began, serious once more.
I shook my head. “There are no buts. At least, not about this.”
Wallis took a piece of my hair between her fingers and twirled it as she spoke. “I think you’re wrong. And I’m really trying not to pry, you know. And I’m well aware you don’t want me hoping that you two get together.”
“Your hope sometimes transforms into expectation.”
“Yes, but I can’t help but marvel at how good you two fit. You carry yourselves similarly, you know? You aren’t the kind of people who say stuff just to say stuff. Not like me, anyway. You don’t mind the quiet.”
“You seem to know me very well, despite claiming the other day that you had no idea who I was.”
Wallis stopped playing with my hair. She held my hands and wouldn’t let go. “I’m sorry I was so mean to you, Dodo. I’ve been super on edge and moody.” Then she laughed, bitter. “What I mean is, I feel like I am channeling the ghost of Dad.”