A Love to Call Her Own by Marilyn Pappano

Author:Marilyn Pappano
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
Published: 2014-08-25T16:00:00+00:00

Jessy considered herself the master of quick changes—oversleeping so many mornings when she was working had forced her to develop the talent—but Fia gave her a run for the title. Less than fifteen minutes after Jessy got home, Fia had finished work, showered, changed, and driven halfway across town to Jessy’s door. Her hair was loosely secured with a wide clip that kept the damp strands off her neck, and instead of the second-skin workout clothes, she wore denim shorts and a T-shirt that looked a size too big.

But she was moving well. No limps, no cautious steps, no hand painfully twisted. Tonight she looked like a thinner, more fragile but recovering version of her old self.

Jessy set out the barbecue and plates, and they helped themselves to their favorites before moving to the couch. She’d made a pitcher of Southern sweet mint tea, the glucose-shock kind that could turn even Mrs. Dauterive, the old hag at the bank, into something resembling human, and she carried two tall glasses of it to the coffee table before sitting at the opposite end of the sofa.

They ate like teenagers, washing down sweet-spicy sauce with heavily sweetened tea, and talked about Carly’s upcoming wedding, Ilena’s soon-to-pop kid, and other bits of gossip, until all they had to show for the meal were empty plates and full bellies.

They were both sitting sideways, sofa arms at their backs—though sprawled after glorious gorging might be a better description—when Jessy asked the question in the back of her mind. Too lazy and sated to try for subtlety, she blurted it out, the way she usually did. “What’s up with you, doll?”

Normally Fia brushed off questions about her health. I’ve seen a doctor, it’s just a sprain, just fatigue, just a headache. This evening, though, she tilted her head back to stare at the plaster medallion in the center of the ceiling and, after a moment, gave a long sigh. “I don’t know. I’ve seen three doctors, and none of them have anything to say besides, ‘Take it easy. Ice your muscles. Take an aspirin.’”

“You’ve seen three idiots. How much weight have you lost?”

“Only eight or ten pounds.”

“Only?” That would be like Jessy losing thirty pounds. Fia didn’t have even five to spare. “The symptoms come and go, right?”

Fia nodded. “They’re worse when I’m tired. I have muscle spasms, headaches, tremors, trouble walking. My vision gets blurry. I can’t remember things. I talked to the manager at the apartment complex today about getting a first-floor apartment because sometimes I barely make it up or down the stairs.” She was silent for a long time, then she met Jessy’s gaze. “Sometimes I’m scared.”

The vulnerability in her eyes and the plaintiveness in her voice made Jessy’s stomach hurt. Giving comfort and reassurance wasn’t among her talents, but there was no one else to do it. Besides, she’d started the conversation.

She slid to the middle cushion and took Fia’s hands in hers. “You’re gonna be okay. We’re gonna find out what’s going on and get it fixed.

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