“Hear! Hear!” Wesley and Phoebe raise their glasses. “To the best book club ever. And to the birthday girl!”
“Because she knows how to make thirty-six look good!” Nancy Flaherty adds with a toss of her head that sends her golf ball earrings swinging.
Angela arrives and takes one look at Jazmine before breaking into a grin. “Good Lord,” she says, laughing. “I never thought I’d see that look on your face again.” She throws her arms around Jazmine. “But I am so happy to see it!”
Sara and Dorothy raise their glasses, and we all gather around the cake, egging Annell on as she lights the candles. Then we’re singing “Happy Birthday” to Jazmine, belting out the words as loudly as we can without the slightest concern for pitch or key or anything else but letting her know how much we love her.
We cheer when she blows out the candles. And then we are carrying heaping plates of birthday cake and sloshing glasses of prosecco into the carriage house, where we settle in for the discussion.
We watch Jazmine tear off the wrapping of what turns out to be a first edition signed copy of Becoming. As she clutches it to her chest with joy, I feel the warmth of friendship and belonging envelop me.
We discuss the book thoroughly. (I’m not going to go into detail here because I don’t want to spoil it for you.)
I know I’m not the only one who is becoming more—more myself, more adventurous, more the person I’d like to be. We’ve all changed and grown and adapted.
When the conversation dies out, Annell settles back in her chair. “So, I hope to see you all in the store over the next few months. There are copies of the books we’re reading over the summer at the front desk. Before we vote on a name for our group, I’d like to address the question about what the person whose suggestion is chosen wins. I’ve given it a lot of thought, and the lucky winner will get”—she points to Chaz, who does a mock drumroll on his thigh—“a free lifetime membership in our book club.”
“But isn’t membership already free?” Erin asks.
“True,” Annell replies. “Hmmm. I know, how about a twenty percent discount on all book club reads?”
“We already get that, too,” Wesley points out.
“True.” Annell smiles. “How about free food and drink at every meeting?”
Jazmine laughs. “So, this is basically you reminding us what we already get by being a part of the Between the Covers book club?”
“It is.” Annell’s smile widens. “Can anyone think of anything they want that’s not already included?”
“I’m willing to settle for bragging rights when I win,” Sara says, aiming a glance at Dorothy.
“Ha! You mean when I win,” Dorothy retorts.
“Hey, you two aren’t the only ones competing, you know,” Chaz points out.
“That’s right,” Angela adds.
“Now, now, children,” I interject. “Why don’t we let Annell read the new entries and worry about prizes when and if we choose a name?”
Everyone seems on board with this. No one disagrees.
Annell pulls sheets of paper out of a file folder and passes them around. “These are the book club name suggestions we’ve already heard. These”—she holds a stack of more ragged sheets of paper—“are all the latest entries.”
Annell lifts the first.
As a group, we do a drumroll on the closest hard surface.
“We have Better Than Therapy, which is, of course, true.”
There is agreement and laughter.
“Second, we have Nerd Herd.”
“Hey,” Chaz quips. “Speak for yourself!”
There are snorts of laughter. Meena rouses and offers an extra throaty “Hon, hon, hon.”
“On a slightly more serious note, we have Cranial Crunch and Rabid Readers.” Annell pauses for a sip of prosecco. “We’ve also got the Bookies, Spine Crackers, and Better Read Than Dead.” Annell laughs. “Is it me or are these starting to feel a bit aggressive?”
There’s chatter and more laughter as we contemplate one another. I’m sure I’m not the only one wondering who submitted what.
“Okay, we have . . . Literal Hotties, the Witty Worms, the Eclectic Bookworms, Cover2Cover, La Literati, and Litwits.” Annell grins at the last. “It’s fun, but I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or not.”
“La Literati has a cool secret-society vibe,” Wesley points out.
“I still like Reading Between the Wines,” Meena says as she pours the last of the prosecco. “Because we do.”
We read over the list of earlier entries. We ponder. We make jokes. We all have our favorites. But once again, there’s no clear winner.
“Can’t we just call it Book Club and call it a day?” Chaz asks, looking for a compromise. “Or table it until fall?”
“We could,” Erin says. “But I was just thinking how Jazmine brought me here when my wedding got called off. And my life was in the toilet. And how much it helped me.”
“It is an incredibly welcoming place when your marriage ends,” Sara says quietly.
“Or your world falls apart,” I add.
“Damn straight,” Dorothy agrees.
“What are you suggesting?” Annell asks.
“Well, breaking up wouldn’t be a requirement or anything because I mean then who would want to join? But what if we called it the Break-Up Book Club? You know, as in it can help you survive almost anything?”
At first, we assume she’s joking. There are snorts of laughter. And some of disbelief. We look at one another and then at Erin, who has this sweet, sincere, yet hopeful look on her face.
For possibly the first time since the group was formed, we are in complete and total agreement.
In unison, and with no—or at least not much—disrespect intended, we all yell, “Naaah!”
Acknowledgments
As always, a huge thank-you is due to longtime friends and critique partners Susan Crandall and Karen White. I can’t imagine being on this journey without you.
To my editor, Kate Seaver, and the great team at Berkley/Penguin Random House.
To my agent, Stephanie Rostan of Levine Greenberg Rostan Literary Agency, for providing sage advice and for telling it like it is even when I’d rather not hear it. And for her wicked sense of humor.
To Courtney Paganelli, associate agent at LGR Literary, for her insights into how a twentysomething female talks and thinks. Because my sons were no help at all with this . . .