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Baker Publishing Group - Melody Carlson

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160 pages

English

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Description

Once upon a time in a little town on the Oregon coast lived four Lindas--all in the same first-grade classroom. So they decided to go by their middle names. And form a club. And be friends forever. Decades later, they're all back home in Clifden and reinventing their lives, but the holidays bring a whole new set of challenges. Abby's new B&B is getting bad reviews and husband Paul is acting strange. Still grieving for her mom, Caroline is remodeling the family home, but boyfriend Mitch keeps pressuring her to go away with him. Artist Marley, distracted by a friend's family drama (and a touch of jealousy), can't find her creative groove. And Janie's drug-addicted daughter has just appeared up on her doorstep. When a long-planned New Year's cruise turns into a bumpy ride, they learn once again that, in your fifties, friends aren't just for fun--they're a necessity!

Informations

Publié par	Baker Publishing Group
Date de parution	01 septembre 2011
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781493420766
Langue	English
Poids de l'ouvrage	2 Mo

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0432€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

© 2011 Melody Carlson
Published by Revell a division of Baker Publishing Group P.O. Box 6287, Grand Rapids, MI 49516-6287 www.revellbooks.com
Previously published by David C Cook
Ebook edition originally created 2018
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—for example, electronic, photocopy, recording—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC.
ISBN 978-1-4934-2076-6
This story is a work of fiction. All characters and events are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is coincidental.
Published in association with the literary agency of Sara A. Fortenberry.
Cover Design: FaceOut Studios
Cover Images: iStockPhoto #3692091; #10418458
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright Page
1-Abby
2-Janie
3-Marley
4-Caroline
5-Abby
6-Janie
7-Marley
8-Caroline
9-Abby
10-Marley
11-Janie
12-Abby
13-Caroline
14-Marley
15-Abby
16-Janie
17-Caroline
18-Marley
19-Abby
20-Janie
21-Caroline
22-Marley
23-Abby
24-Janie
25-Caroline
26-Marley
27-Abby
28-Janie
29-Caroline
30-Marley
Discussion Questions
About the Author
Back Ad
Back Cover
Chapter 1
Abby
Trying to catch her breath, Abby shuffled her way into the women’s locker room, barely able to put one heavy foot in front of the other. Feeling twice her actual age, she eased herself down onto the only unoccupied bench and gazed around the steamy room. Women with firm, sleek, healthy bodies paraded themselves around in various stages of undress as if trying to rub it in.
Lowering her eyes in defeat, she stared down at her pudgy white thighs and found herself craving cottage cheese. Without a doubt, she had lost her ever-loving mind. Why else would she have allowed Janie and Caroline to talk her into this? And why would she have bragged to Paul about her grandiose plan to join the fitness club?
“I’m starting tomorrow,” she’d boasted to her husband last night. “After I become a member, I’ll start off by taking … what’s it called? A circuit-something class. I think that’s what Caroline said.”
“You’re starting with a circuit-training class?” Paul frowned at her. “You sure you want to do that?”
“Janie and Caroline said it’s really fun—a bunch of women working out together with upbeat music. It’s probably like aerobic dance. I loved doing that back when the girls were little.”
His mouth twisted to one side. “Yeah, but circuit training is hard work, Abby.”
“Are you saying I can’t do it?”
He shook his head. “I’m saying you should start with something easier. When I joined the club, I started with a trainer and a special—”
“Yeah, well, you were recovering from a heart attack, Paul. I’m in a lot better shape than you were.”
He looked skeptical.
“I’ve been walking three or four times a week.” Abby put her hands on her hips. “I’ve even lost a little weight this fall.”
“Yeah, but starting out with circuit training—”
“Why do you always have to rain on my parade?”
“Because I know you, Abby.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning if you start out with something too tough, you’ll give up.”
“I will not!”
“I’ll bet you don’t last a week.”
“I will!” she insisted. “You’ll see. I’m going to join the club and take that class. And maybe I’ll go in five days a week at first, to jump-start things. I could swim on Tuesdays and Thursdays and—”
“Why don’t you just use that a free one-week coupon I gave you?” he suggested. “Make sure you know what you’re getting into before you plunk down all that dough.”
“I know what I’m getting into. Janie and Caroline swear by that class. They go three times a week and love it.”
He looked like he wanted to say something but stopped himself. “All I’m saying is that the club is pretty expensive, Abby, and I think—”
“You think I’m not worth it?” She shook her fist at him. “Sure, it’s fine for you to belong to the club, but poor old Abby doesn’t deserve—”
“That’s not what I’m saying.” His brow creased. “You’re worth it. I just don’t want to see you pay all that money up front and then change your mind.” Of course, he took the opportunity to list all the activities Abby had started but never finished. But instead of falling for that old bait and getting into a ridiculous fight, Abby took their counselor’s advice and the high road.
“If you love me,” she calmly informed him, “you will support me in this. I’m making a healthy decision for my life, and you should respect that, Paul.”
He held up his hands in surrender. “Fine. Just take it easy, okay? Don’t kill yourself on the first day. Remember, slow and steady wins the race. Pace yourself.”
“That’s exactly what I plan to do.”
But Abby’s plan, like the best-laid schemes of mice and men, had fallen by the wayside after she joined the club and paid her membership fees in the morning. It wasn’t that she was trying to impress anyone in the circuit-training class. She knew better than that. But as she went from station to station, attempting to figure out the confusing machines and determine the realistic weights and master the forms, she understood she’d bought more than she’d bargained for. Trying to stay one step ahead of the perky, energetic woman who followed Abby in the circuit was no picnic either. The petite blonde kept nipping at Abby’s heels. “You know there’s a special class for people who don’t know how to properly use the equipment,” she sniped as Abby untangled herself from one of the machines.
As she tried to hurry along, Abby decided to call this snippy woman Trixie, after an ill-tempered Chihuahua Abby’s daughters had begged her to get for them long ago. Fortunately Paul got fed up and found the feisty dog another home.
“Maybe you should try out the pool aerobics,” Trixie said in a snarky tone. “I hear the older ladies really enjoy the slower pace.” She folded her toned arms across her flat abdomen, leaning against a pole and scowling as she waited for Abby to move to the next machine.
The last straw came about midway through the class. Abby knew it was midway because she’d kept one eye on the lethargic clock the entire time. She’d never seen a minute hand move so slowly. Trixie laughed loudly upon discovering that Abby had been using the biceps machine without weights attached.
“You gotta be kidding,” Trixie said. “You’ll never get into shape doing that.”
Fed up and worn out, Abby had released the handle and let the bar slam back into the machine, which she knew was a no-no. Glaring at Trixie, she’d turned on the heel of her frumpy walking shoes and stormed out. No doubt Trixie was hugely relieved. Right now, she was probably telling everyone how hopeless and out-of-shape Abby was, and how fat old women like her should be banned from circuit training and maybe even the entire fitness club. So humiliating.
At least Caroline and Janie, who were stuck in a bank appointment regarding Caroline’s mother’s estate, hadn’t been there to witness her embarrassment. That was something Abby could be thankful for. What had made her think she could pull off something like this? She felt like crying. Paul was right. She had wasted their money. She really was a failure.
As she slowly stood, searching the room for some sort of a stall or private area where she could discretely disrobe, she wondered how hard it would be to convince the club to refund her membership fee. Maybe there was some sort of twenty-four-hour cancellation clause. She would have to find out. But first she needed to find a place to change.
“Excuse me,” she asked one of the only women with clothes on. “Where are the changing rooms?”
The woman laughed, waving her hand around the open area. “This is it.”
“Oh.” Abby nodded stiffly. “Yes … okay … I’m new here.” Wondering why she hadn’t noticed the insane lack of privacy during the tour of the club, Abby picked up a white towel from the neat stack and sniffed it. At least it smelled clean. And it was actually rather soft and thick. Nice. As were many of the other amenities that had distracted Abby from noticing the absence of dressing stalls.
It figured that she’d been too busy checking out things like attractive tile designs and chic light fixtures and rain-shower heads, too distracted by fluff to be concerned with function. She reminded herself that she’d arrived in her workout clothing (which, like her, was out of style and out of shape) and had no need for a changing room then. Really, she should just get over herself and strip down and not worry about what anyone else thought. That’s probably what Caroline and Janie did when they were here—why couldn’t Abby?
“Janie and I have so much fun at the club,” Caroline had said when the Four Lindas club met last week at the Clifden Coffee Company. Abby, Janie, Caroline, and Marley—who as schoolgirls had all shared the first name of Linda—were discussing their upcoming cruise to Mexico. They talked about spray-on tans, waist-trimming swimsuits, and how they had only six weeks to get into shape. Motivation was high, especially with the holidays upon them. But for Abby, the initial thrill of winning her Mexican cruise for four was quickly turning into high anxiety. She hadn’t purchased a new swimsuit since her three daughters were kids, and the sorry, threadbare thing she wore in the hot tub at home was not fit for public viewing. Neither was her body!
“You and Marley really should come try out the club,” Caroline urged Abby. “We can get you free passes.”
“I know,” Abby said. “Paul’s always telling me that.”
“But if you guys joined, we could do classes together,” Janie said. “We could encourage each other to get fit.”
“The club’s running a special until the end of the year,” Caroline told them. “If two people sign up, the second membership is half off. You and