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“Once you’re nominated, you still have to get the most votes to win,” Daisy explained. “You get votes from your followers and fans. So, you have to campaign constantly, give people the links to vote, and post videos that people will want to watch to be able to beg for the votes, etcetera. Etcetera.”
“It sounds like the nomination was the easy part,” Emma said.
“You’re not kiddin’,” Daisy said. “There were ten contestants. Now there are eight. It’s probably one of us that’s doing it. I just hope the others don’t think it’s me.”
“Anyone who knows you knows you’re too sweet for that,” Lucy said.
Daisy smiled. “Even so, I’ve gotta push hard for the next three weeks.”
“What’s your plan for getting the votes?” Kate asked.
“Make a video or two every day until the cut-off. I’m gonna take a road trip and chronicle it as I go. How to do local on the cheap.”
“But you just moved home,” their mother said, frowning. “I thought we’d see more of you.”
“You will, after all this dies down,” Daisy promised.
“Where you headed?” Emma’s husband, Dirk, asked.
“New York City. That’s where the award ceremony is. I plan to take off in a week or so and lollygag around, traveling up the coast.”
“You sure that car of yours will make it?” Lucy’s husband, Jack, asked.
“My trusty steed, Ethel? Course she will.”
Jack and her dad shared a look. “Let me just take a peek at it before you leave, okay?” her dad said.
Daisy shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
“Will you be back in time for my stage debut?” Nana asked. “Curtain’s up in four weeks.”
Acting was Nana’s latest “thing.” She bounced around from adventure to adventure, saying it kept her young.
“Of course,” Daisy said. “I heard you wrote the playscript too. What’s it about?”
“Here we go,” Lizzie mumbled.
“ImagineA Streetcar Named Desire,Thelma and Louise, andThe Sound of Musichad a baby,” Nana said. “A PG version.”
“More like a geriatric version,” Lizzie whispered to Daisy behind her hand.
“You telling her how great it’s going to be?” Nana glared at Lizzie, who nodded enthusiastically.
“I wouldn’t miss it, Nana,” Daisy said. “I’ll be back in plenty of time.”
“Does Blanche have pink hair in your adaptation ofA Streetcar?” Emma asked.
“At least it’s not fire engine red anymore,” Kate said.
Nana huffed. “Red was in honor of the Fourth of July. This pink is a tribute to my favorite summertime fruit, watermelon. I’ll change it again before the play.”
Daisy wasn’t sure if Nana’s constant change of hair color was another way to stay young, a cry for attention, or just an eccentric quirk. At least the current hue was theinsideof the watermelon and not a rind green.
Dinner was just as Daisy remembered—long and loud. And with her sisters marrying, the family’s exponential growth required that her father add another leaf to the table.
“So, you all settled in your new place, Daisy?” Emma asked.
“Just about,” Daisy said.
