Chasing Rainbows A Novel - By Long, Kathleen Page 0,8

flash.

“Just how strong are those prenatals they put you on?” I tightened the sash on my terry-cloth bathrobe. I was not without my dignity, after all. “And you can’t tell me how to feel.”

“That’s great.” Diane moved to the coffee table and systematically gathered my junk food into a pile. “Been watching Dr. Phil during your down time?”

“So what if I have?”

She hoisted the pile into her arms and pivoted on one heel, headed straight toward the kitchen.

Shock and disbelief tapped at the base of my brain. “Where are you going?”

“To the mall. And you’re coming with me.” She disappeared around the corner and I heard the distinct click of the trash can lid hitting the wall.

That got my attention.

“Don’t you dare--” The swoosh of my dietary staples sliding into the trash stopped me mid-sentence.

“Now then.” My soon-to-be-ex best friend reappeared in the hall and wrapped her fingers around my elbow. “You’re getting a shower and I’m going to pick out some clothes.” She gave my stomach a quick pat. “If you haven’t already eaten yourself into the next size.”

“Bitch,” I mumbled beneath my breath.

“Damn right.”

We stared at each other then, two friends who had seen each other through just about everything two friends can see each other through.

Much as I longed to run to the kitchen and pull my chocolate from the trash, I stood my ground, staring into Diane’s eyes.

Her gaze softened, and tears welled in my vision.

She pulled me into a hug and I leaned into her, wrapping my arms around her waist, willing her strength and determination to seep into my body. “Sorry I called you a bitch.”

“That’s okay.” She spoke softly against my ear. “It’s an unwritten rule that you can call your best friend a bitch when you’re out of your mind with shock and sugar.” She pushed me to arm’s length. “You’ll feel better after you get some fresh air. I promise.”

I wasn’t sure a trip to the mall constituted fresh air, but I was in no shape to argue, especially not when Diane was on a mission.

“You’d better hurry up--” she tipped her chin toward the dent on the sofa where Poindexter had been “--otherwise we won’t have time to shop and be back for obedience class.”

I made a face and shook my head.

Diane pressed her lips tightly together. “Oh, honey. This is so not your month.”

In that moment, I realized I didn’t need the clucking and patting strangers at the store. Diane had stood by me through new math, training bras, driver’s education, losing Emma and now--apparently--she planned to help kick start the reinvention of my life.

She whistled as I climbed the steps in front of her. “Damn, Bernie. How much have you eaten?”

Sometimes, you simply needed an old friend to give you a kick in the ass.

o0o

One stylish--and previously too large--velour lounging outfit later, we were on our way to the mall. While Diane blathered on about second chances, starting over and rediscovering life, I stared silently out the passenger window.

The feeling of detachment I’d felt since Ryan left clung to me still. I found myself wishing I’d changed the locks the moment he left, not so much to keep him from coming back, but to keep my well meaning--but highly annoying--friend out.

Much as I loved Diane, her insistence that life should go on had me considering just what it would take to drive me to homicide.

As I understood it, Diane believed any proper rebirth, and mine in particular, should begin with a makeover. I could hardly wait.

Even worse, she wasn’t about to settle for a department store cosmetic counter. No. She’d set her sights on the mother of mall cosmetics, the Rediscover You kiosk.

I shuddered as we neared the cart in the center of the mall. Diane’s sensible heels snapped smartly against the tile floor while my sneakers squeaked along a few hesitant feet behind her.

I sensed impending doom the moment one of the salesgirls looked up...and winced. I focused on her nametag, hoping for a gentle, sensible name like Helen, or Mary, or Anne.

I squinted as I read the engraved type.

Brittany.

Great.

Brittany cleared her throat, no doubt trying to assess how much commission she was about to earn from my less-than-perfect appearance. “Can I help you?”

I shook my head, but Diane pinched my arm. Hard.

“Yes,” Diane answered with her most serious tone. “My friend has been on the receiving end of some rather bad news lately and she deserves a little pick me up.”

Rather bad news. I supposed that