Another Piece of My Heart by Jane Green Page B

would go by when she didn’t give them a second thought.
    Nothing could have prepared her for those final days. For the tragedy and shock of seeing her mother after weeks of radiation, shrunk to nothing, a weak and whispery shadow of herself.
    Nothing prepared her for the grief that took hold, the tears that came so unexpectedly when she was caught up in the mundanities of life, the sobs that wracked her body while she stood in the checkout line at Safeway.
    Ethan was gentle and caring. Even Emily gave her a reprieve, after an outburst in which she accused Andi of not being the only one to suffer.
    Andi turned to Ethan with tears, to her friends for laughter, for a reminder that life still needed to be lived.
    Tess didn’t stand on the doorstep with sympathetic eyes, asking plaintively, “How are you?” She pushed her way in and filled the fridge with food her cook had made for them, a huge box of See’s chocolates, and turned to Andi, stating firmly she needed a drink, before pulling a bottle of tequila and a margarita mix out of her bag.
    “I know it’s sugary shit,” she said, pouring margaritas for all of them. “But sometimes in life, you just need some sugary shit.”
    Deanna, who ate no sugar, refined flour, or meat, wordlessly stood up from her position on the kitchen stool, pulled open the fridge door, and pulled out the box of chocolates.
    She ripped off the cellophane cover, threw the white corrugated paper resting on top of the chocolates on the floor, and grabbed, at random, three chocolates, before stuffing them in her mouth.
    “She’s right,” she mumbled, her mouth full. “Sometimes you just need some sugary shit.” And the three of them had sat there and laughed before, much to Ethan’s horror, polishing off the entire box.

Eleven
    Andi opens the door, twirling with delight as Drew puts a hand to his chest.
    “Wow!” He grins in approval as she grabs a purse and heads to his car. “You really look gorgeous. You should dress up more often.”
    They are going to a new salsa club in San Francisco. As a nondrinker, Drew is the designated driver, picking up Tess and Deanna en route. For their salsa lessons in Mill Valley, Andi wears black leggings and sloppy T-shirts, but for a club, she has gone whole hog.
    A cherry red wrap dress, with Capezio T-bar shoes. Her hair in a chignon, possible only because she added a fake ponytail from CVS to her own short, sparse ponytail, twisting the thick bunch up and pinning it into a meaty bun. She considered adding a red fabric flower but decided it was too much.
    But she couldn’t resist the slick of glossy red lipstick, a color she would never normally wear.
    “You know what you need?” Drew says as he opens the car door for her. “A red flower in your hair.”
    Commanding him to wait, Andi runs back inside, up to the bathroom, and grabs the flower, pushing it into the bun. Passing Ethan in the kitchen, she gives him a quick kiss as he tells her to have fun, then runs back into the car.
    “Perfection.” Drew claps his hands in delight as she turns her head before pulling out of the driveway.
    Clubs are not the chosen destination of any of these women, not anymore, and Andi is grateful that growing older means you no longer have to pretend to have the desire, or the energy to go.
    But salsa is different. When Deanna persuaded Andi to try out a new class a few months ago, Andi intended to go only once to keep Deanna happy. She never intended to catch the bug, but she felt the magic in that very first class and, toward the end, when she finally got the movements, felt it take hold, the music became a sensual throb that moved through her body and transported her to another place.
    In the salsa class, she loved watching herself in the mirror in the studio, the way all of them moved their hips as they rolled from front to back, emulating José in his tight black pants as he encouraged them to be sexy and gorgeous.
    “Feeeeel the beat,” he said in his