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As a bonus this year, my sister tucked a few freshly read books into my Christmas box (we regularly mail books back and forth across the country).  “Wildwood” caught my eye first off because the author was named Drusilla — as was our maternal great-grandmother.  I can’t remember the last time I saw Drusilla in print outside of my genealogy charts.

I started reading Drusilla Campbell’s “Wildwood” this morning while the rest of the household slept.  There are few things more delicious than reading curled up on the couch, wrapped in a cozy throw, with my thermal cup of Mango Ceylon tea steaming beside me.

I continued reading as the girls both woke up and began their search for Sparkles, our Elf, who was hanging out of the back pocket of Lily’s backpack.

After a brief break to fix breakfast, my nose went back into the story of three women who had been friends since girlhood, as they tiptoed around the recognition of an event thirty years in their past.  I was captivated by their negotiated friendships…the things they acknowledged, the truths they ignored.

The story carried me through a lousy bowl game loss by my beloved Fresno State Bulldogs (although I only read during commercials) and two re-runs of “A Charlie Brown Christmas”.

And then it was done.  I was exhausted, but left wanting to know more.  What did the future hold for Hannah, Liz, and Jeanne.  Would their marriages survive?

I hope Drusilla Campbell writes a sequel.