Prologue
Peggy checked the clock one more time.
She really was pathetic. Not pathetic, she told herself. A woman of routine. She’d retired last spring from her forty-two years at Halikarnassus Middle School—did she really expect herself to undo decades of routine in a year?
Still, she would like to know what it was like to sleep in.
She looked down at Starr, her ragamuffin little poodle who was another part of the reason she couldn’t sleep in. “You and your old-lady bladder,” she scolded, without much heat. Starr barely lifted her head from the cushion on the kitchen chair that was closest to Peggy’s.
Peggy had a whole list of things to do, none of which were particularly setting her world on fire. She had promised to make some zucchini bread for her pregnant neighbor, she needed more laundry detergent, she had to make appointments for both herself and Starr at their respective groomers.
She was just biding her time.
She wondered if Joanna was up yet. She was in LA, so it was unlikely—more likely that she hadn’t gone to bed yet. Raising that wild granddaughter of hers had earned every gray hair Peggy meticulously covered up. Peggy still had a hard time thinking of Joanna as an adult, capable of living on her own. Not that Joanna was incompetent, she was just . . . stubborn. Sometimes too stubborn to do the right thing.
Peggy never should have let that girl take guitar lessons.
Oh, sure, it channeled her rebelliousness into something more creative, but now her only grandchild was living across the country pursuing a career that did not come with a 401(k). A rock musician. If Joanna’s mom could see Joanna, well, she’d probably blame Peggy for getting her guitar lessons in the first place.
Peggy reached for her phone—a smartphone, thank you very much—and debated sending Joanna a text. Last night had been a big night for her. Her band, Bunny Slippers, was opening for . . . well, Peggy couldn’t remember. Something to do with pennies? It wasn’t really her style of music. Of course, neither was Bunny Slippers, but those songs kind of grew on a gal. They were all about kick-ass females, as Joanna would say. None of that sappy love garbage.
Which was so very Joanna. That made Peggy even more proud, that her baby was making it big being nothing but herself. Peggy was nervous when Joanna started talking about signing to a major record label—she had visions of shady, predatory A&R men taking advantage of an all-girl rock group. She knew this was sexist, but she couldn’t help it. Joanna was her baby girl; she’d always be protective of her. But their new manager seemed to have the band’s best interests at heart, and he got them on this tour with the Penny . . . somethings. What were they called?
Oh yes, the Penny Lickers.
Absurd.
But very, very popular.
Peggy really wanted to call Joanna to see how the first show had gone. She’d just send the text, and if Joanna was up, she’d call her back. If not, Peggy’d talk to her after her thrilling day of postretirement errands.
She looked up at the clock again.
Finally.
“Come on, Starr. Time for a walk!”
No matter how brightly Peggy said that, Starr always attempted to bolt when the leash came out. She was fast for an old lady, but so was Peggy, and she had ten pounds of squirmy fluff in her arms and leashed in no time. They were running a little late. Peggy hoped she hadn’t missed him.
This is so very wrong, she said to herself as she shut the front door behind her, which was the same thing she told herself every morning. She waved to Doris, next door, who was watering her flowers, and to Carla across the street, who was at her mailbox, which was a little obvious.
Still, she couldn’t blame the woman.
Peggy coaxed Starr down the steps and onto the short path through her front yard, once again amazed at the torque the ten-pound dog could produce when she was faced with something she did not want to do. Starr was just deigning to slowly climb down the stairs when he turned the corner.
It was wrong, surely, to build her morning around the daily opportunity to ogle the new library director in his running shorts. She would never stand for this kind of behavior from a man toward a woman. And yet, every morning, she joined the other women in the neighborhood to wave and smile at Liam Byrd.
Sometimes he stopped to chat, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet while they talked about books or about Joanna. Liam was quite the music aficionado. He knew more about the music she grew up with than she did, and he was always asking after Joanna’s career. He told her that he had bought the newest Bunny Slippers album. He said he liked it, although his face told her otherwise. Such a nice young man.
Lately, he hadn’t been stopping, just waving and jogging on. Poor boy was stressed. The town council was giving him headaches about his budget. Peggy’d like to give the town council a headache. But then she’d watch Liam run on, and she found it hard to be mad at anyone for a good while after that.
Today looked like it was going to be just a waver, which was just as well, because Peggy’s phone was vibrating in her pocket. She reached for it while offering Liam her brightest smile. Then Starr apparently decided she did want to go on a walk after all, because she started barking and following Liam (not that Peggy could blame her). Except that in her stubbornness, Starr had wrapped herself around Peggy’s legs, and Peggy’s attention was divided between her phone and Liam’s shorts, which left nothing for her balance, so when Starr took off, Peggy didn’t stand a chance.
She went down.
Hard.
Oh, Lord.
Peggy opened her eyes to see the cloudless spring sky, then Liam’s flushed face.
“Peggy? Peggy, are you all right?”
She was fine, she wanted to tell him. Just embarrassed. But she found she couldn’t catch her breath, and she thought she might be having a heart attack but it wasn’t her chest that hurt, it was her leg. Oh, Lord, she’d never felt such pain before in her life, not even when she gave birth to Joanna’s father. Liam’s sweet, concerned face swam in front of hers, and she heard Starr barking and someone talking about an ambulance, which she hoped was not for her because she was fine; it was just a little breath-stealing, paralyzing pain in her leg; there was no need to make such a fuss.
“Peggy? Stay with me, okay? The ambulance is coming,” Liam said, and he was such a dear. She really should stop objectifying him like that. She should tell Doris and Carla to back off, too. Especially when he was being so nice to her, even if she didn’t really need it. She wanted to tell him that, and to get on her feet to go into the house and ice her leg and maybe find something to drown her shame in. She started to do that, but as she tried to sit up, her leg moved and the look on Liam’s face told her that she had said out loud the curse words she was thinking. Then his face started to darken, and so did the sky, and then she didn’t feel a thing.