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Back The Favorite Daughter Save as PDF
Chapters (57)
  1. Cover
  2. Back Cover Text
  3. Booklist
  4. Dedication
  5. Quote
  6. SUNDAY
  7. 1
  8. 2
  9. MONDAY
  10. 3
  11. 4
  12. 5
  13. 6
  14. 7
  15. TUESDAY
  16. 8
  17. 9
  18. 10
  19. 11
  20. 12
  21. 13
  22. 14
  23. 15
  24. WEDNESDAY
  25. 16
  26. 17
  27. 18
  28. 19
  29. 20
  30. 21
  31. 22
  32. 23
  33. 24
  34. 25
  35. 26
  36. 27
  37. 28
  38. 29
  39. 30
  40. 31
  41. 32
  42. 33
  43. 34
  44. THURSDAY
  45. 35
  46. 36
  47. 37
  48. 38
  49. 39
  50. 40
  51. 41
  52. 42
  53. EPILOGUE
  54. DEAR READER LETTER
  55. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  56. READERS GROUP DISCUSSION QUESTIONS
  57. Best Day Ever

As I hurry back to my car, I do have to give Kylie credit. She works fast. That’s the younger generation for you. And David turns out to be an easy mark. David has a type: women like Kylie and me who are not quite what they seem to be. And for some reason, women like us can sense that about him. It must be in his pheromones. Easily conned.

But I’m no longer fooling myself.

Was I a fool? No, I am just a devoted wife who was willing to give him another chance.

And now? Now I’m a formerly devoted wife who is over him. But don’t think I’ll just leave them to their new little life. I think by now you know me better than that.

11

11:00 a.m.

I pull into the garage at the same time Sam’s text lights up my phone: I’m here.

I push the garage door button and welcome the darkness as the door rolls down.

I want to text back: Go away. But not because of Sam. I need to think, reflect. I need to find the note writer, and I need to set everything in motion. David may have carried Kylie over the threshold but he has pushed me over the edge.

I also need to make a showing for Betsy, because this is one of our last times to be together in public. It’s important for the other moms to see me, for them to think I’m just like them, showing my love for my daughter by wearing on-trend athletic attire and by being overly involved in every facet of her daily life. To be the helicopter mom they all are, that they expect me to be. That’s the mom Betsy hates, or does she hate the housebound mom I’ve become? I’m not sure. Maybe she hates them both?

For some reason, though, she wants me to be at Volunteer Day or she wouldn’t have mentioned it this morning. Does she have a surprise for me? I doubt it. She doesn’t think that way. She’s simple, her father’s daughter. Perhaps she just needs help painting and she doesn’t have any friends.

I text Sam: Coming.

Driving to the high school, I sit behind Sam. It’s the same direction on Coast Highway, south, as driving to Dr. Rosenthal’s office. He keeps glancing at me in the rearview mirror.

“Were you just coming home from someplace, Mrs. H.?” Sam asks, his eyes meeting mine in the rearview mirror.

“No. I don’t go anywhere, not without you, Sam.” I smile. He couldn’t have seen me pull in the garage. He’s not that observant.