Now or Never: A Last Chance Romance (Part 1) by Logan Belle Page B

thought I was early.
    Everyone except for Mila, who runs a waxing salon, has worked at Macy’s.
    “You look amazing,” Anne-Marie says, jumping up from the couch and hugging me.  I probably do look slightly better than I did last month.  Lately, I have more interest in pulling myself together.  But the way she says it, it has more to do with reassuring me because of my health issue rather than my actual appearance.  It’s one of the many minor irritations that have flared since telling my friends about my diagnosis.
    Another is the way they tiptoe around certain topics.  I thought we were all excited to read JoJo Moyes’s Me Before You .  Then at the end of last month’s meeting, Jen decided it was “too depressing.”  This, from a woman who once selected the memoir Perfection, by a woman whose husband dropped dead and left behind a trail of the affairs he’d been having their entire marriage.
    “Thanks,” I say.  “I can’t believe I’m the last one here.  You guys are usually the stragglers,” I say to Jen and Anne-Marie.  I sit on a chair closest to the food and take a handful of grapes.  Crossing my legs, I feel the pull of the garters.
    I think about Justin’s text, suggesting I wear them.  The fact he knows what I’m wearing under my clothes is more than a little thrilling.
    “What’s that smile about?” Karen says.  Everyone is looking at me.
    I cover my mouth as I chew.  “Was I smiling?” I say behind my hand.
    They look at each other.
    I’m not sure if I’m imagining it, but there is a weird vibe in the room.
    I pull out my copy of the book from my bag and put it on my lap.  “So, did we love this, or what?” I say.  The usual protocol is that the hostess opens the discussion, but with everyone just sitting there staring at me I can’t wait for Patti to get back from the kitchen.
    Apparently, I am alone in this sentiment.
    “We should wait,” Jen says.
    I feel them watching me with concern.  I’m about to tell them to snap out of it when Patti walks in with my brownies on a colorful ceramic plate and the opened bottle of wine.
    “Patti, I tried to get the conversational ball rolling but no one wanted to start without you.  Do you feel the love?”
    “Most definitely.”  She plops on the couch.  Everyone reaches for a brownie.
    “I’ve been doing Paleo all week, but fuck it,” Karen says.
    “How can you eat all the meat on that diet?  Your cholesterol will go through the roof,” Mila says.
    I get impatient when the conversation turns to diet, exercise, and the latest cover story of Us Weekly .  I love my friends, but I also really like talking about the books.  I know Patti does, too, so I give her the Get the Ball Rolling glance.  Besides, I have to be somewhere tonight.
    I open my handbag and take a quick peek at the time on my phone.
    “So, before we get started on, um, the book,” Patti says.  I look up.  Everyone is staring at me.
    “What? Sorry.  I spaced for a minute.”
    “I was saying before we start on the book, we want to talk to you.”
    “Me?”
    “Yes,” Patti says.  Everyone nodded.  “We’re concerned about you.”
    Oh god.  Not this.  Not now.  Not tonight.
    “I know you are,” I say slowly.  “And I appreciate that.  But this is totally treatable, you guys.  I told you, I have a plan and it’s going to be fine.  I appreciate your support.”
    “But you never talk about it,” Mila says.
    “Yeah.  How can we be supportive when you never bring it up.  Ever.”
    “It’s not normal.”
    “Or healthy,” says Karen.  I look at her sharply.  I’ve known her the least amount of time, and don’t need her chiming in on this.
    “Jesus.  What is this, a book club, or an intervention?” I say, slumping in my chair.
    “Look, hon.  It’s perfectly normal to get into a state of denial.  That’s why you need other people to help you deal,” Anne-Marie says.
    Am I avoiding the reality of my health situation in