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you guarantee that you’ll love someone until you die? And how long is forever? How in the hell are you supposed to know how you’re going to feel five, ten, or twenty years from now unless you’re clairvoyant?”
    “Good point,” I say.
    “I mean, should you feel bad because your feelings change? Hell, maybe we weren’t meant to stay with one person forever. Maybe we weren’t meant to get off on different exits at different times in our lives, I don’t know.”
    “You certainly don’t,” Paulette says. “Marriage requires cooperation and compromise and patience. As soon as you’re not willing to do that, you both lose.”
    “I’m getting sleepy,” Bunny says.
    “It still takes two to cooperate,” I say.
    “This we can all agree on. Now,” Bunny says, standing up and finally kicking those high heels off. “I’m letting the cats out in two minutes. Oh shoot, there’s my backpack!”
    But it’s not hers, it’s mine. I bought her one just like it last year for Christmas. Before I can stop her, Bunny’s already unzipped it and is pulling out the necklace.
    “What in the world is this? It’s gorgeous. I know you’re not making this, are you, Marilyn?”
    “Yes, I am.”
    “Don’t be no fool, girl, you stay in school. Who’s it for? And when did you start making jewelry, hussie?”
    “It was supposed to be a surprise for your birthday but I don’t know how to finish it…”
    “Don’t you worry about that. I can’t believe you made this. Can you, Paulette?”
    “As a matter of fact I can. Marilyn has completely underestimated her talent but overestimated her friend’s taste. I think your neck is too short for that necklace, but mine is perfect. You can use my Nordstrom’s card and get the girl a gift certificate. No. I’ll give you twenty dollars and just go to Walgreen’s.”
    “You go straight to you know where,” Bunny says and walks over and gives me a kiss while handing it back to me.
    “Don’t kill yourself trying to finish it, Marilyn. But the people at your job should know how to do this, shouldn’t they?”
    “I guess so.”
    “It’s the thought that counts. But anyway, this year, ladies, I’m afraid I’m off to Vegas with a friend for the celebration of my birth.”
    “And you’ll be how old again?” I ask, not really wanting an answer.
    “I’ll be forty. You broads know that. Stop playing dumb. Now out!”
    And we are gone. And somehow the inside of my chest feels lighter.

Chapter 3
    I arrive at my doctor’s office a few minutes late because the new but old receptionist neglected to tell me they had moved to a larger office two floors down. I didn’t say a word, just smiled when I signed in. She looked up when she saw me and said, “Still alive, huh?”
    I didn’t think this was so funny but I winked at her and cracked a fake smile as I dropped my five-ton backpack on the floor and sat in one of eight uncomfortable lavender and gray curved chairs. “Is Dr. Hilton running pretty much on schedule, today?”
    “As a matter of fact, she is, but there are two patients ahead of you. She should be able to see you in the next fifteen minutes. Give or take a few.”
    I didn’t see anyone else in the waiting room, so maybe she was already playing musical doors. I looked down at the pile of women’s magazines, searching for a headline that might speak directly to me: “Flip Your Fat-Burning Switch Instantly” Like right now? There. It’s flipped. Onto the “no” pile. “Lose 10 Pounds in 48 Hours on the 7-Day Miracle Diet.” Worth a peek. It goes on the “yes or maybe” pile to my right. “Buff Up Just by Thinking about Exercise.” Bunny, Miss Fitness Director herself, would have a stroke if I read this because I’ve been thinking about exercising for years. “Go Dancing Now!” Okay. But who would I go with? Leon the Dancing Machine? “Surprising Medical Alert: Housework Can Make You Sick!” I already know this.
    I continue my quest: “Your 10