“Yeah, same age, too.” She put a hand to her chest and sighed. “She was just three. I was so ready to take her on because her mom was my best friend. It made it easier, losing her, to have Valerie, to look into her eyes and see her mom in them.”
Valerie stood and walked over to Rosaline’s chair. Daisy felt a warm flood of emotions when Valerie leaned down and hugged her. Then Valerie stretched her arms above her head and shifted her weight from one foot to another. “I don’t ever remember not being in that pack.”
“You were a pack,” Rosaline laughed. “Oh, what days.” She gestured with her hand at Daisy, then Alex. “You girls, knowing I’m about to have three more babies to play with, I can’t explain how that fills me.”
“You’ve certainly waited long enough,” Valerie said.
The door opened, and Ken strolled into the room. “Dishes are done,” he announced. “Brad’s putting the last platter away, and Jon took out the garbage.”
“And your father?” Rosaline inquired.
“Oh, he and Buddy supervised like I can’t explain.” He glanced toward Daisy. “Ready to go?”
“I am.” She pushed herself to her feet. Rosaline got up, too, and hugged her. “I enjoyed cooking with you today.”
“Likewise,” Daisy said, breathing in the floral scent of Rosaline’s lotion. “With all of you.”
After hugging Valerie and Alex, she preceded Ken from the room. Out in the foyer, she gathered her jacket and purse. Brad and Jon came and said goodbye. “We still have to do Thanksgiving again,” Ken said.
“Hardship, having extended family in the same town,” Brad said on a laugh.
Daisy nudged Ken. “Not until tomorrow.”
“True. Give my stomach time to reset.”
They left the house on a wave of cheer, confirming plans and bidding farewell. On the drive home, she leaned her head on her husband’s shoulder. Another mountaintop day. “I think that was the best Thanksgiving ever.”
At a red traffic light, he kissed the top of her head. “I agree. I think they’re only going to get better from now on.”
Kensat back and watched as Daisy looked in the mirror, turning sideways. The ball gown’s red lace top fell off her shoulders, tying just under her breasts in a red satin bow, then falling in loose waves to the ground. She’d thrown the red heels across the room in frustration and now wore a pair of nude ballet slippers.
She turned from the other direction and looked that way, finally slapping her hands over her eyes, a sound of frustration escaping from her mouth.
“What’s wrong?” he finally asked, coming up behind her and slipping his arms around her. The faint floral scent of her perfume wafted up and filled his senses. He didn’t think he’d ever get tired of the way she smelled.
“I’m a fat cow.”
He spun her around and pulled her hands off of her face. She had tears in her eyes, but none fell down. “You,” he said, kissing each temple, “are not,” he added, in between kissing her eyelids and nose, “a cow.”
For a moment, she paused, then she gasped and looked at him. Mirth filled her eyes instead of sadness. “But I’m fat.”
“No.” He put his hands on either side of her stomach and leaned down, pressing kisses along the top of it. The baby moved and shifted under his hands. “But you are very round.” He straightened and looked down at her upturned face, overwhelmed with love and desire for her. “And incredibly sexy and beautiful.”
She pouted out her bottom lip. “I don’t feel beautiful. Or sexy.”
“That’s okay.”
He straightened and stepped back. She ran a hand down the front of his tuxedo shirt. “Speaking of sexy,” she said with a coy grin.
He picked up her hand and pressed a kiss to her wrist. “We need to get downstairs. You’re not going to distract me.”
“Fine,” she snorted.
They left the bathroom and went into the bedroom of their hotel suite. The red wrap that went with her dress lay across the bed. “Since we’re staying in the hotel, I don’t think I’ll need that,” she said, picking up the end of it and letting it fall back to the bed. “No reason to have to keep up with it.”
“Smart.” He went into the main room, scooped the tickets for tonight’s Presidential Inauguration Ball off the table, and slipped them into his jacket pocket. “Do you want me to hold your phone?”
She looked at it, plugged in on the desk, and shook her head. “Nah. No reason. You have yours and a pocket.”
