When Daisy McGulch Stone looked back over her life, she should have known that the inflection point, the moment her life would be divided into before and after, would happen at the Little Wonders Preschool Family Fun Fest (and Silent Auction).
Not that any one thing went wrong at the Family Fun Fest itself. Because, in fact, everything went wrong.
Not through any fault of Daisy’s, of course! After her pep talk from the human starter pistol known as Quinn Barrett, she dived into the madness of making the Family Fun Fest the funnest damn fest in the history of Needleton—nay, in the history of Massachusetts!
She’d wrangled down prices on bouncy houses. She’d drawn up the schedule of musical events. She’d double- and triple-checked the audio equipment they had in the Parent Association closet for the musical acts, and borrowed Robbie’s old amp as a backup. She’d reinstituted the goldfish toss, animal cruelty complaints be damned, because according to last year’s financial breakdowns, it made bank for the school. She’d arranged for the food trucks. She’d gotten permits from the Needleton town hall, and she’d reported everything back to Shanna, who reclined on the couch when she and Daisy met. Every freakin’ night.
“Thank you so much for taking all this on,” Shanna always said. “I would never have been able to do this without you—I swear, if this baby’s a girl, I’m naming her after you.” Then, she would look over the day’s spreadsheets and say something like, “Martino’s Bakery is where we are getting the cakes for the Cake Walk? Not Bedford Farm and Cafe? Oh my.”
But not even Shanna’s nitpicking could stop the train of Daisy’s production skills coming to the fore. She analyzed, she brainstormed, she went over the breakdowns with a fine-tooth comb, looking for ways to maximize their budget, their profit, and the kids’ fun.
Damn, she was on fire. When she wasn’t dying of sleep deprivation, that is.
And the most important thing Daisy had done was to follow Quinn’s command and delegate. She sent emails to various parents who were low on their volunteer hours for the year, saying they could burn them off by soliciting donations for the silent auction and raffle baskets.
And they delivered. In spades.
Suzy Breakman-Kang was absolutely livid when she learned about this—Suzy, being the warden of all things volunteer hours. She had placed herself in that role when Shanna had taken over from Quinn, and she had relished the authority it gave her.
“You can’t just give away volunteer hours!” she practically screeched. “That’s my job!”
“For everything not related to the Family Fun Fest, yes,” Daisy had said. Okay, maybe it wasn’t Daisy. Maybe she was channeling Cosplay Daisy, the way she did on the phone. But it turned out that Cosplay Daisy very much enjoyed flaunting her authority. “But you all officially appointed me deputy to deal with the Family Fun Fest. And to complete that task, I’ll dole out volunteer hours as I see fit.”
Suzy was left with her mouth hanging open, no doubt composing the world’s meanest newsletter in her head.
But as the items that the volunteers managed to procure came in—and began to overwhelm—Daisy might have had her most genius moment yet.
“Quinn, why did you never do an online auction?” she said over coffee, as she stared at the spreadsheet in front of her. They were at the café on Main Street, taking up Quinn’s favorite table by the window, getting dirty looks shot their way by computer-lugging caffeine addicts coveting their good table with outlet access. Ostensibly they were here to do anything but work, but Quinn had so artfully dodged any questions about her reunification with Stuart that they had no choice but to work.
On top of the pile of papers was a list of all the items that had been collected for the silent auction. It included but was not limited to Red Sox tickets, passes to goat yoga, breakfast with the Needleton firefighters, a signed headshot of an Affleck brother, and a new-in-box pair of size seven Christian Louboutin ankle boots.
“We looked into it,” Quinn replied. “But ultimately decided that we didn’t have the kind of items that would do any better online than in person, so the effort wasn’t worth it.”
“Well, we have some items this year that would be worth it,” Daisy said. The Louboutins were made for eBay (curse her size nine feet, else they’d be hers!). As was the Affleck headshot, and . . . maybe the goat yoga? But that wasn’t enough to justify making a separate online auction. And she knew, without a doubt, that she could sell stuff online. She had plenty of retail experience, and hadn’t she made ends meet in between production jobs with some judicious selling of her geek stockpile? She just needed more product . . .
She contemplated it as they left their coveted table (it was quickly scooped up by laptop junkies).
And started to make their way up the street. But then, she stopped in her tracks, right in front of the empty storefront that used to be the Knick Knack Nook.
“What?” Quinn asked, but Daisy didn’t hear her. Her mind was caught on an idea. It was only when Quinn waved her hands in front of Daisy’s face that she snapped out of it.
“Are you okay?” Quinn said with concern.
“I’m better than okay,” Daisy said, grabbing her friend’s hand, a maniacal grin spreading across her face. “I just got an idea that is absolutely terrifying!”
“Terrifying?” Quinn asked. “For whom?”
“For me . . . and if I can convince him, probably for Rob.”
Indeed, it wasn’t terrifying for Rob. Or if it was, he certainly didn’t say so.
“I know what I want to do.” It was one week after her initial idea had formed. One week, where she had done some research, priced her options, and formulated a rough-draft business plan. It had been the most nerve-wracking, exhilarating secret she’d ever kept from Rob, and considering all the strange looks he’d given her this past week, he probably thought she was cheating on him.
Now, Rob looked up at her, dubiously, from the circular saw he was setting up. They were in the basement, which was swiftly being transformed. Currently he was working on some cabinets for the corner kitchenette, but he stopped the second Daisy came down the stairs.
“Carrie go down for her nap?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said, and then repeated, “I know what I want to do.”
“I was hoping to start the new Great British Bake Off season, but if you’ve got something else in mind . . .”
She laid down the copy of Chainmail in front of him. The one from the long box she’d gotten in trade for Rob’s well-intentioned Christmas present. She held her breath, waiting for his reaction.
“Is this a new adventure module?” Rob asked. “You want to play D&D? I mean, I’m all for a campaign, but there’s only two of us and Carrie will be awake soon—”
“That is a copy of Chainmail—it’s Gary Gygax’s first published rules for medieval fantasy wargaming, basically his proto D&D. I found it in a long box at that comic shop in Cambridge. It’s in great condition, and see that squiggle there? . . . it’s signed by Gygax.”
“Wow,” Rob said, with proper reverence. “I take it that’s quite the find.”
“I have friends in Los Angeles, people from games I’ve run, who would pay over a thousand dollars for this.”
Rob finally looked up from the booklet to her face.
“A thousand dollars?” he said. “Seriously? What else was in that box?”
“Stuff That Guy at the comic store wouldn’t have recognized as worthwhile in a million years,” she said. “But I did. And it got me thinking—if That Guy can have a successful store, why can’t I?”
Rob blinked at her. Waiting.
“I figured out what I want to do—here, in Needleton. I want to open up my own comic and game store.”
Rob looked down at the booklet. Ran his finger across the (plastic-covered) title and signature.
“This is a great find, and I’d put you up against any professional nerd any day of the week, but . . . do you really think you can run a store?”
“Yes,” she answered definitively. “I have retail experience, I know how to order and inventory stock. And having run around like crazy trying to put this Family Fun Fest on I know what it takes to get something on its feet. Not to mention more than a passing acquaintance with the permit office at town hall. But instead of selling sweater sets or ordering bouncy houses, I’d actually be doing something I care about.
“There’s nothing like this store in Needleton—comic lovers stuck in the suburbs have to go into the city to get their in-person comic fix; I can siphon them off. I know the market and what customers are looking for. I have connections from my D&D groups in LA; one bookstore owner even offered me a monthly column on his website, which is good promo and offers credibility. I would have a physical store for weekly releases and to hold stock—there’s a storefront on Main Street that’s an amazing location, right next to the coffee shop, and we will turn it into something beautiful and classy, not junky and dusty like most comic shops—but a good portion of my business would be online. Selling things like that.” She pointed to the book.
She had a bunch of other points in her business plan. She could have kept going—a parent/kid comic book club was something she was really excited about—but the look on Rob’s face told her to hold off.
Because Rob looked . . . intrigued.
Daisy’s heart swelled. Maybe . . . maybe this was possible.
“I love this idea, Daze,” he said, rubbing his chin. “Trust me, I would have died for a comic shop in Needleton when I was a kid.”
“But . . .”
“But . . . where are we going to get the money?” he rationalized. “We are so tight as it is.”
“Well . . . we kind of do have the money,” Daisy replied. “The down payment fund.”
“You want to use the money we are saving up to buy this house?” His eyebrows disappeared under his baseball cap. Then he snorted a laugh. “Where would we live?”
“I don’t want to move out—just delay the purchase. See if Grandpa Bob would hold off on his gift for a year, if your uncle could wait for the purchase to go through. And then if the store isn’t viable, we’d know it.”
“Daze . . .” Rob’s face lost all trace of humor. “You’re talking about risking our future. For—”
“For our future,” she finished for him. “A different version of it. The more I’ve thought about this, the more I’m convinced it’s what I need to do.”
“I . . . I think we’re going to need more than your assurance that you can do this to sell Grandpa Bob and my uncle on the idea,” Rob replied. “I don’t know how to convince them. My uncle especially. They don’t really understand this kind of stuff. When I made the move to LA my uncle thought I was insane for pursuing a dream.”
“Your uncle understands money, right?” Daisy challenged. “How about this—if I sell Chainmail for over a grand—over fifteen hundred—in the Family Fun Fest silent auction, would that be proof enough?”
“It would certainly go a ways to show your knowledge and the fact that there’s money in comics and games,” Rob replied. Then, after a moment, “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Okay.” He leaned over and kissed her. “Better get to selling that book.”
The way she kissed him back . . . well, suffice it to say, it was a good thing Carrie took a long nap that day.
But Daisy found she didn’t have time for many such interludes. Because March quickly gave way to April and Daisy spent the time running running running to get everything done and perfect for the Family Fun Fest.
So by the night before the big day, Daisy was just about out of juice. She had done everything she could. Workers would begin arriving in the morning, bouncy houses, miniature trains, and goldfish would be arriving shortly thereafter. The big yard had been cleaned and cleared yesterday, ready for its transformation. Everything was going to be perfect. Daisy had nothing left to do but sleep.
She woke up the next morning well rested, utterly focused, ready to go. She opened up the kitchen blinds as she started the coffeemaker, ready to greet the day she had been killing herself for.
And it was pouring.
Daisy stood there, utterly gobsmacked, long enough for her coffee to burn, one single thought running through her mind.
Oh FUCK.
How . . . how was it raining? There wasn’t any rain in the forecast! It had been nothing but clear, bright blue sky on every single weather update she’d been tracking. There wasn’t even a hint of wind! This was supposed to be the perfect early April weekend!
It would be one thing if it was a drizzle that would clear up by midmorning—basically a little spritz just to clear the dirt away. But no, this was a full-on, straight-down pour, and the darkness of the sky indicated that it wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.
Snapping out of it, she quickly moved to the living room, and flipped on the TV. She sat through three minutes of early morning news (Red Sox fans were lining up for opening day already, and traffic was abysmal) before they got to the weather.
“. . . cold pressure system moved in swiftly overnight, and parked itself over the southern Boston region. Keep those rain boots handy, because it’s going to be hanging around for a while—”
Daisy turned the TV off. No need to belabor the point—it was raining, it wasn’t stopping, and the Family Fun Fest was going to be soaked.
Daisy checked her clock: just 6:00 AM. The first deliveries were slated to begin at the school in an hour. She had to start reacting. She had to start canceling everything.
First thing first, though, she had to tell Shanna.
Shanna picked up the phone with a muffled and sleepy, “Hello?”
“Shanna, it’s Daisy. Look outside.”
“. . . Daisy?” Shanna replied. “What’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong is that it’s raining! Like, really really raining!”
“It’s raining?” Shanna sounded awake now. Even alarmed. Daisy could hear her leveraging herself out of bed and the footfalls across the floor, presumably to a window.
“Oh, my god . . . ,” Shanna said, after a few moments. “Oh my god—what are we going to do?”
“We have to cancel,” Daisy replied. “We have insurance policies for most of the rentals—we can reschedule to the backup date. There will be a small penalty for the move but at least—”
“Okay . . . what’s the backup date?” Shanna asked.
Daisy nearly dropped the phone.
“Are you telling me you never set a backup date?” Before dropping everything in my lap, she wanted to scream.
“Are you telling me you didn’t?” Shanna’s voice bit out.
“No, Shanna, I didn’t. If there’s no backup date, then we have to cancel the whole festival outright.”
“No! Daisy, we can’t cancel!” Shanna cut in. “We are not canceling the Family Fun Fest.”
“But . . . everything is outside! There’s a petting zoo!”
“Figure out how to make it inside,” Shanna snapped. “Really, didn’t you plan for this contingency?”
“Me?” she practically screeched. This isn’t my job! she wanted to scream. You made me do this! But she couldn’t. Partially because, at this point, she had taken over so completely, it was her responsibility. And partially because . . . she hadn’t planned for this. She’d assumed there was a backup scheduled. And, as she tracked the weather, it just continually listed sun, sun sun sun sun . . . so she didn’t concern herself with less and less likely scenarios.
Because up until yesterday, it wasn’t going to rain—so why bother planning for it?
“I am not giving up. People are expecting a Family Fun Fest today, they are getting a Family Fun Fest. Shanna Stone does not fail. Understood?”
“Shanna, it’s going to be awful . . . impossible . . .”
“You can’t cancel anything, because as Parent Association president, I’m the one who signed all the leases you brought me, I would have to be the one to cancel them. So start figuring out how to make this an inside festival. Now, if you’ll excuse me, according to my doctor I need another hour of sleep.”
Daisy stared at the phone for several seconds after Shanna hung up.
Daisy could have chucked it all. She could have walked away, washed her hands of it, called Shanna crazy and let the Little Wonders gossip mill eviscerate her. In fact, that sounded like the best possible option at the moment. But . . .
But . . . Daisy wasn’t a quitter, either. The kids, the teachers, the parents—they were all looking forward to this day so, so much. Heck, the auction website had already started. Bids were being placed. In some ways the Family Fun Fest had already begun.
And . . . Daisy had an idea forming. Something that she could do to make the Family Fun Fest unforgettable. And if not unforgettable, at least fun, and dry.
Swiftly, she dialed her phone again.
“Daisy?” Quinn said, picking up on the second ring. She too sounded sleepy, but the call had alarmed her. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I’m sorry to wake you,” Daisy said.
“I finished The Brand New Home nursery last night. I am exhausted,” Quinn said on a yawn. “But nothing some coffee can’t cure. What’s up?”
“What’s up is that I have eight hours to save the Family Fun Fest.”
* * *
Eight hours later, the rain was still coming down, but the Little Wonders Family Fun Fest (and Silent Auction) was absolutely rocking. And Daisy was riding a high of adrenaline and caffeine that should be regulated by the FDA. But she had done it. Somehow, she had taken an outdoor festival and managed to shove it inside, without losing many of the events, or any of the fun.
“This is amazing,” Robbie said, as he walked down the Little Wonders hall, now done over to look like a board game. Each primary-colored tile was part of the Candy Land-esque path, leading the kids from one event to another in each of the different rooms.
“Thank you,” Daisy said, taking his hand. “It was . . . a challenge.”
“You rose to it.”
Things had to be pared down, of course. The three bouncy houses became one, the train and the soccer league were both gone, not to mention several of the carnival-esque games that simply did not fit inside buildings, and the food trucks were converted to stalls, walking back and forth to the trucks for freshly made tacos, sandwiches, and chipped ice.
In between fielding phone calls and texts from parents asking if the festival was still on, posting updates to the Facebook group and the Slack saying, “Yes, we are still on” but not adding “because Shanna is a slave-driving lunatic,” Daisy and Quinn managed to rearrange the entire event.
Half of the festivities found a new home inside the large, historic barn on school grounds. Interestingly, since it was a historical landmark, it was not nearly as decrepit on the inside as she had been led to believe by the outside. It was structurally reinforced and very sound. And since the chickens had moved to their outdoor coop at the beginning of the month, it was unoccupied.
The petting zoo and the remaining bouncy house were very happily ensconced in there, as well as some of the games that needed the space: the strongman striker game, the milk bottle toss, the corn hole game. Anything that involved hitting, or throwing more than a Ping-Pong ball, was not going to make it inside Little Wonders itself.
The inside of Little Wonders had been transformed by Quinn’s hand—which was no mean feat, considering they did it in less than a day, and while school was in session.
Once Quinn and Daisy had hung up that morning, Quinn chugged down some coffee and dug out her crafting supplies. Untouched since the creation of the ill-fated Halloween spaceship, she and Hamilton loaded every can of paint, brush, cardboard frame, and tube of glitter she had into the car and drove over to the school. They made a pit stop at the craft store on the way, the very first customers inside, and cleaned out the fabric section.
Meanwhile Daisy loaded up her car with every single board game, action figurine, poster, and costume that she had (that was age appropriate, that is). They convened at the school. While Quinn began to transform the auditorium, Daisy had stood outside the school, under her umbrella, basically accosting parents dropping off their kids, begging them for help. She was practically giving away two-for-one deals on volunteer hours—no doubt once the final tally came in, Suzy Breakman-Kang’s head was going to spin around Exorcist style.
She didn’t have much luck—most people had to go to work, after all—until Charlie and Calvin’s moms came, and with them ladders, sewing kits, and a working knowledge of how to put things together. They also had the help of the teachers, who ducked out of class when they could to give them a hand. Because nobody but nobody knows how to wield construction paper and a wall stapler like a preschool teacher.
And once Daisy had convinced Ms. Anna to let the classrooms “visit” each other, Quinn got access to the Tadpole Room, the Iguana Room, and the Rainbow Room, and turned them into their themes.
The Rainbow Room became a princess’s tower. Pink and white fabric hung from the ceiling like a circus tent, giving the entire space a “PG-rated harem” vibe. It was where the dress-up house and face painting were set up, as well as a backdrop for a “photo booth.” Daisy, with all of her cosplay experience, was the lead makeup artist, and all the little kids were happy to trade their tickets to be transformed into a unicorn or a tiger, or in the case of one enterprising young man, a Sharknado.
The Iguana Room became a jungle. Green streamers and cloth (left over from St. Patrick’s Day) hung from the ceiling tiles, making a path for kids to pass through. The smoke machine (left over from the dance party portion of the Happy Halloween Parade and Dance Party) made a reappearance, and Robbie was sent out on a mission for dry ice. In the Jungle Room, they managed to relocate the few carnival games they could accommodate inside—the Goldfish Toss, renamed the Piranha Toss, and the Cake Walk, now called a “Trek Through the Amazon.” Everyone had an amazing time exploring the jungle.
But the third room was Daisy’s favorite. She’d reimagined the Tadpole Room into the Dungeon Room. Quinn had found at the craft store a fabric patterned with large stones, so when hung all around the room, it looked like they were in the belly of a massive underground dungeon. And Daisy had one of her cosplay outfits that looked the most like a suit of armor posted at the door on a mannequin she’d borrowed from the Cranberry Boutique—what Elaine didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.
This was the Escape Room.
Tickets were paid for at the entrance. To get out, you had to play a game—board games like Candy Land, Chutes and Ladders, Sneaky Snacky Squirrel, Uno Attack, Don’t Wake Daddy, Mousetrap, kid-size Jenga. Or a game of Simon Says, Red Rover (not easy to play inside but when needs must), or the game where you fished rubber duckies out of a kiddie pool, whatever that was called.
When you won, you were given a small prize and allowed out—only to have most of the kids come running back in, eager to play again.
However, while those rooms were filled with fun, all paths led to the auditorium/multipurpose room, where the stage had been given over to the musical acts. Currently, a young woman with a rainbow wig named Zuzu who played nursery songs at everyone’s third birthday party in the Needleton area was currently on the stage, and the kids were enthralled, clapping along with a silly version of “Wheels on the Bus.”
While the kids grooved out to the classics, their parents could peruse the silent auction items and the raffle baskets, where they had been placed in long rows for easy bidding and ticket entering. And at the far end of the room, was the pièce de résistance . . . the Easter Bunny.
Aka, Robbie, in a rental Bunny Suit.
Daisy had snuck over to him as he finished handing out jelly beans to Elia. He broke free from the little girl’s hug and made his way over to Daisy.
“Where’s Carrie?” he asked.
“In the Dungeon Room, of course,” Daisy replied. No doubt making sure everyone played by the rules of each game. “Quinn is keeping an eye on her.”
Quinn was running the Dungeon Room. While it might have been more Daisy’s speed, she was needed for her face-painting skills in the Princess Room, and Quinn was also impressively capable of running multiple games at once.
Daisy should take her to Vegas.
“How’s the face painting going?” They’d ducked behind the stage curtain, where Rob could take off his bunny head, and take a drink of water, without scaring the kids.
“Did you see the lizard I did on Hamilton? He looked like he was in the remake of V. I think that’s my pièce de résistance.”
“Seriously,” Rob replied. “You should consider making geek game parties part of your business plan. This turned out amazing.”
“Are . . . are you serious?” she asked. “You’re going to back my plan?”
“After this, how could I not?” Rob replied. “Besides, I checked the online part of the auction about a half hour ago. Chainmail is already up over three grand.”
“It is?” Daisy squealed in excitement. “Yes!!”
“One day you’ll have to explain to me why we donated that to a preschool auction instead of selling it for ourselves. That could have gone a long way toward outfitting your store.”
“Don’t worry,” Daisy replied. “You don’t know what else was in that box.”
“Really?” His eyebrows went sky high. “Like what?”
Daisy was about to tell him about the Dave Arneson–signed original Blackmoor campaign–setting booklet, but they were interrupted when Jamie ducked his head behind the curtain.
“Hey, Rob—you’d better get back out there. A line of sugared-up toddlers is forming. Mutiny is on the horizon.”
“On it.” And with one last very sweaty kiss, Rob ducked back into the auditorium, to his adoring fans.
Daisy remained behind the curtain for an extra couple of seconds. Just to take a moment, to take a breath, and enjoy the fruits of her crazy, crazy day.
“Thank you,” came Jamie’s voice from beside her. She jumped slightly—she’d forgotten he was there. “I know that Shanna can be a bit crazy these days, but you really, really came through for her.”
Daisy smiled up at Jamie. Daisy actually hadn’t seen much of Shanna since the start of the festival. She had obviously been texting her all day long, blowing up her phone with “Just checking in!” and “I’m sure everything will fit inside, just talk to Ms. Anna.” Daisy texted back with unspecific but firm reassurances, but eventually was so busy she could barely do more than text back a thumbs-up emoji. Then, about fifteen minutes before the doors opened, Shanna arrived, hoping to put the final touches on everything. When she saw just what had been pared down, and what state the rooms were in with only fifteen minutes to go, she nearly broke down in tears, such was her panic.
Luckily Jamie was there, and he took her for a walk in the afternoon drizzle, telling her everything was going to be great. They must have snuck back in while Daisy was knee deep in toddler faces in want of paint.
“You’ve really only known her since she’s been pregnant,” Jamie was saying. “But I promise, she’s usually a normal person. Funny and smart and holds our lives together. You really helped her out, stepping up like this.”
Daisy put her hand on his arm. “She’s just taking care of her health, and the baby’s health. It’s completely understandable.”
He looked at her strangely for a moment. Then, as if a lightbulb went off over his head, “Oh—you mean the blood pressure thing? Yeah, it really freaked her out when it was slightly elevated. But then they took it again and she was normal.”
“Normal?” Daisy asked, a strange sour feeling in her stomach.
“Yeah—and normal every time since. But it’s so great of you to be aware of it, and to give her a break from her Parent Association duties.”
“Hmm, yeah. That was . . . awesome of me,” Daisy said. She must have come off as self-deprecating because Jamie just laughed.
“Well, you were there. You knew she bit off more than she could chew with the Parent Association. Like I’ve told her, it’s not a one-man job. So, you stepping up to help—that was really clinch. Good cousin vibes.”
Jamie, like the darling oblivious man that he was, extended his fist for a bump. Daisy hesitated before dully bumping him back.
Daisy made her excuses—the Princess Room and face paint awaited—and Jamie ducked away, on the hunt for his wife.
But, Daisy did not head back to the Princess Room. No, she made a furious beeline straight for Quinn and the Dungeon Room.
She could not beLIEVE that Shanna had used her health to mock up an excuse to shove off the entire festival onto Daisy’s already stressed shoulders. She was trembling with rage.
However, she didn’t need to go as far as the Dungeon Room, because just then, Quinn appeared in the auditorium. She had Hamilton and Carrie at her side, Gina trailing behind, having been conscripted to watch the kids while the moms worked the festival.
“Hey,” Quinn said. “What’s going on?”
“Do I look that pissed off?” Daisy said. Quinn raised her eyebrows, alarmed.
“Come to think of it, yes you do—but everyone was just told to come in here for an announcement.”
Daisy blinked and looked around. The room was being crowded by people streaming in from the other rooms and outside.
“Daisy, what’s going on?”
“I don’t know, I just know I’m going to K-I-L-L”—spelled out because Carrie and Hamilton were looking at her with decided interest—“Shanna when I see her.”
Quinn glanced over Daisy’s shoulder. “Well, if you want to begin your homicidal spree, I’d start up there.”
Daisy turned around, looking up to where Quinn indicated. Shanna was on the little stage, Suzy Breakman-Kang at her side. Shanna looked glowing, resplendent, neat as a pin—not covered in face paint and her hair a mass of frizz. She confidently took the microphone once Zuzu with the rainbow wig had finished “The Itsy Bitsy Spider.”
“Everyone? Everyone!” Shanna said into the microphone. The crowd settled. “Hi—for those of you who don’t know me—all two of you”—pause for light chuckles—“I’m Shanna Stone, the Little Wonders Parent Association president.”
She paused for applause. When only a smattering was forthcoming, she barged ahead.
“I just wanted to take a moment and say thank you. Because of you, not only did we have a great festival, but according to the tallies,” here Suzy Breakman-Kang held up a clipboard, “we have earned more for the school than any previous year!”
That earned hearty applause from the audience. Daisy felt a hot glower come up over her face. Of course they earned more money—her Chainmail was netting them thousands! The online auction was inspired! They could do bake sales and sell cookie dough from here to the next Family Fun Fest and they wouldn’t touch that amount.
And there was Shanna, up on the stage, taking in the applause that belonged to Daisy.
“That means more fun events for our kids, more supplies for our teachers, and a better Little Wonders!” Shanna beamed. “Now, this festival was not easy to pull off, especially considering our little rain difficulty. But we did manage it, didn’t we?”
Oh, sure, Daisy thought. We absolutely did.
“So I want to especially thank Daisy Stone, my cousin and my bestie, for creating the impossible, and giving us this amazing indoor festival!”
As the applause turned to her, Daisy felt her face heating up—but this time with pride. From the stage, Shanna motioned her to come up.
Daisy made her way up to the stage, completely in shock, people applauding around her. So this is what it would have been like if she’d ever won an Oscar, she thought. She could hear the announcer now: “Daisy Stone is the first person to win this award for playing a non-cosplay version of herself in a preschool. This is her first nomination.”
“And . . . a little bird told me that Daisy is soon going to be opening up her own business,” Shanna said into the mic as Daisy climbed up the short steps to the stage. “So if you like comic books and pop culture as much as she does, keep your eyes peeled for her new shop!”
Daisy met Shanna’s eyes, shocked. She hadn’t shared her business plan with anyone but Rob—how did Shanna know?
But Shanna was beaming and handed Daisy the mic. She whispered, “Just say thank you!” in Daisy’s ear.
And for some reason, that made Daisy’s brain start to burn. Daisy had killed herself for Shanna, not just today, but for the past month, and Shanna dared to dictate that she should simply say “thank you”?
Daisy had a lot more to say than that.
“Hi, everyone,” Daisy said into the mic. “I appreciate everything and everyone in this room for coming together as a community to pull off this festival, and have a great time doing it. Everything we do is for our kids and seeing them have a blast today makes it all worth it, amirite?”
Applause at that, and the kids whooped along with their parents.
“All of the volunteers worked their butts off, but I know I wouldn’t be up here today without the faith and support of one person in particular.” Daisy turned and looked at Shanna, who touched a hand to her heart.
Daisy smiled directly at Shanna as she said, “Quinn Barrett—thank you so much for everything! Your dedication, creativity, and hard work made today possible—yours, and yours alone.”
Quinn looked like she was trying to blink SOS in Morse code at Daisy, but Daisy didn’t care. She allowed the applause to transfer to Quinn, and satisfactorily watched as Shanna’s jaw dropped.
But only for a second, because Shanna was well aware of the stage she stood on. She quickly shook off her shock and grabbed the mic back from Daisy. With an unceremonious, “Suzy is going to pull the raffle basket winners. Have a great festival everyone!” Shanna shoved the mic in Suzy’s hands.
As the bowls with the raffle tickets and the baskets were brought up to the stage, Shanna grabbed Daisy by the arm and pulled her behind the curtain, just off to the side of the stage.
“How could you do that to me?” Shanna whirled on Daisy the second they were out of sight.
“How could I do that to you?” Daisy said, chuffed. “How could you do that to me?”
“I just wanted to say thank you—and to plug your business idea, Robbie is so excited about it! And you go and . . . and . . .”
“And thank Quinn for her help?” Daisy asked. “Why is that a bad thing?”
“Because . . . you know why!” Shanna blurted out.
“No, I don’t!” Daisy shot back.
“Hey, um, guys?” It was Quinn as she ducked her head back behind the curtain. “I think we should move this conversation? People can hear you.”
Daisy glanced at Quinn. Over her shoulder, she could see the room beyond—so quiet you could hear a pin drop—not even the kids were making noise. And Suzy certainly wasn’t handing out raffle baskets. No, every ear was tuned to what was happening stage left.
“God, Quinn, could you just for once get out of my life?” Shanna bit out.
“Oh, I’m happy to go . . .”
“No,” Daisy said. “No! You don’t get to talk to her that way. She came through for me when you decided to drop everything in my lap for the Family Fun Fest.”
“I didn’t drop everything. I needed help,” Shanna replied, her hand going to her swollen belly.
“No you didn’t,” Daisy replied. “Jamie told me. Your blood pressure is normal, but you used your pregnancy as an excuse to offload your responsibilities onto me. I had no idea what I was doing. I needed help, and it was Quinn who stepped up.”
“I needed help, too!” Shanna exploded. “I need help all the time! I need someone to give me a house, Daisy. And I could have used someone to help me acclimate to Needleton when I first moved here. I need someone with a child who can be Jordan’s friend—you think I don’t know that she’s a bully? You think I don’t know she’s the one who spread ‘Poopybutt’ like a virus? I have absolutely no idea how to stop it! I don’t know how I’m going to manage a second kid, because no doubt I’m going to screw this one up, too. I need friends. You were supposed to be my friend. But then you went and decided that Quinn was better than me. Just like Jamie did.”
Daisy mouth fell open like a fish. Shanna’s nose had gone all red, and tears were threatening her eyes. Quinn was stock-still. Daisy made a few noises before she managed to form a coherent thought.
“Jamie . . . Jamie doesn’t think Quinn is better than you. He was just telling me about how you keep his life together, how you’re his best friend.”
“He thinks Quinn is better.” She turned her heated gaze to Quinn. “He spent every waking hour raving about you last year. He got so mad when I took on the president position, saying that if Quinn couldn’t do it, no one could. He was crazy about you.”
“I . . . I don’t have an answer for that,” Quinn said, bewildered. “Other than to say that nothing went on between Jamie and me—he was my copresident.”
Pieces began to fall into place for Daisy. Jealousy. Shanna’s driving motive for hating Quinn was jealousy. But not over her perceived perfection, doing all and being all as a wife, mother, and career woman—it was over something much more fundamental.
“No,” Shanna said. “He was—is—my husband. But you never thought of him as that—as made very clear by your own husband!”
“What?” screeched Quinn. “What does Stuart have to do with this?”
“Last year, when you invited us over for dinner—”
“You turned us down.”
“Because your husband had let it drop what kind of dinner it would be. What kind of marriage that you had. He said he had no problem with your interest in Jamie, because he had his eye on me.”
“That . . . that’s not true,” Quinn sputtered. “Stuart would never say anything like that. You—you must have misunderstood!”
Gasps and rumbles were making their way from the room beyond the curtain. Daisy was suddenly very, very aware of how public the conversation had become.
“Guys, let’s take a breather; Shanna, come with me—”
But Shanna wasn’t listening. She had fury and triumph written all over her face, no doubt the only thing in her vision the sputtering Quinn.
“What, you didn’t know you were in an open marriage?” Shanna sneered at Quinn. “Oh my, how sad. Oh. My.”
Quinn’s sputtering stopped. She grew uncomfortably silent. Uncommonly still.
It took a moment for what was happening to sink in.
Oh. My.
Daisy could practically see Quinn’s mind working. It was turning over and over what Shanna had just said. But the moment Quinn looked up, Daisy knew she hadn’t focused on the content. No, she’d focused on . . .
Oh. My.
“It was you,” Quinn said softly.
“What?” Shanna replied.
“It was you—‘Oh. My.’ You said that, on the Halloween video, exactly like you just did. You . . . you’re the one who made the video.”
Shanna stared at her for a moment, and then . . . a great puff of laughter left her chest. Followed by snorts and giggles of growing hysteria.
“No . . . Quinn, no . . . ,” Daisy tried, stepping her body in between Shanna and Quinn.
“You . . . you think this is funny?” Quinn was saying. “You ruined my life! Why? Because you thought my husband made a pass at you?”
“No— No, Quinn, she didn’t!”
But Quinn just advanced on Shanna, Daisy stopping her from getting more than a half step.
“You’re lucky you’re pregnant, or else I’d . . . I’d . . .”
“It wasn’t me,” Shanna said, getting her laughter under control.
“Seriously? You think I’d believe that?”
“It wasn’t me,” Shanna said again, this time more sober. And as she slid her eyes over to Daisy, Quinn’s eyes followed.
“I didn’t make that video, Quinn,” Shanna said, biting out the words. “I didn’t post it online. I didn’t ruin your life.”
But Quinn didn’t even look at Shanna. She had her eyes firmly on Daisy’s.
Daisy could hardly believe how easily the words came out of her mouth.
“Shanna didn’t do it. I did.”