Lucy was about to receive one of her mother’s firm butt-kickings. Since she’d been through them before, she went to the bar and ladled out a hefty cosmopolitan. “Lucy Marigold O’Brien,” her mother began, making Lucy’s mouth turn sour despite the sweet cocktail she’d just sipped. She’d always hated her middle name, not only because it made her sound like some misplaced flower child, but because marigolds smelled like ass, if you asked her. Taking another fortifying drink of her cosmo, she turned around. Her mother was breathing hard enough to make her mangoes heave. “I’m sorry you didn’t like my idea, Mom,” she said, striving for peace. “I was only trying to add something to the calendar from my experience.” Her mother charged over to her. “The calendar was fine without your idea! This stunt you pulled was an embarrassment to me and yourself. These people signed up for The Calendar of New Beginnings, not The Calendar of Death.” So much for peace. “Mom, I’m not suggesting—”
What do You think about The Calendar Of New Beginnings?
