Chapter 2 - The Girl Named Penelope
Aaron and I have had a good marriage — a warm one, the kind I used to feel a little smug about. But the first three years, before our daughter came, nearly broke us both.
There were the appointments. The blood draws. The specialists with kind eyes and bad news. More disappointment than I ever want to describe again, month after month after month.
So when Lily finally arrived, she didn't just join our world. She became the center of it, and everything else arranged itself around her.
She's seven now, in second grade, and from the first day of kindergarten she'd wanted one thing more than anything: a real friend. Not a kid she sat next to. A friend.
Yesterday afternoon she came through the front door at a dead run, backpack sliding off one shoulder.
"Mom! There's a girl named Penelope and her mom said today's a good day and can I please, please go over?" She was bouncing on her toes the whole time.
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"Of course you can, baby." I hugged her so hard she squeaked. I nearly cried, honestly.
I'd met Penelope's mother, Dana, once at pickup — a firm handshake, a friendly face, the kind of mom who catches your name the first time and actually uses it. She'd seemed lovely. We'd swapped numbers and addresses right there on the sidewalk.
