Dana Sue still clung to the hope they’d gotten it all wrong. “Maybe it’s just back-to-school jitters, or maybe she’s eating the cafeteria food at school,” she suggested. She wondered if Maddie’s son might have noticed something. “Could you talk to Ty? He might have some idea. They don’t have any classes together, I know. Annie told me that much today, but maybe they have the same lunch hour.”
“I’ll ask him,” Maddie promised. “But I’m not sure teenage boys pay the slightest bit of attention to what girls are eating. They’re too busy scarfing down everything in sight.”
“Try,” Dana Sue pleaded. “Obviously I’m not getting anywhere talking to her. She just gets defensive.”
“I’ll do my best,” Maddie promised. “I’ll ask Cal, too. You can’t imagine the kind of gossip my husband overhears in the locker room. Who would have guessed that a baseball coach would know so much? He may be the school’s best resource for staying on top of what the kids are up to. Sometimes I think he knows when students are in trouble before their own parents do. He certainly did in Ty’s case.”
“I remember,” Dana Sue said, recalling how concern for Ty had drawn Maddie and Cal together. “Thanks for checking into this, Maddie. Let me know what you find out, okay?”
“Of course. I’ll give you a call later tonight,” her friend promised. “Try not to worry too much. Annie’s a smart girl.”
“But maybe not smart enough,” Dana Sue said wearily. “I know this kind of thing can happen because of peer pressure and all the role models these girls see on TV and in the movies, but Annie also has a lot of issues thanks to her dad running around on me.”
“You think this has something to do with Ronnie?” Maddie sounded skeptical.
“I do,” Dana Sue told her. “I think she convinced herself it wouldn’t have happened if I’d weighed a hundred and five. Of course, I haven’t weighed that since seventh grade.”
“You’re also five-ten. You’d look ridiculous,” Maddie said.
“Probably, but it might be kind of fun to test the willowy look on the men in Serenity,” Dana Sue said with a wistful note. Then she added realistically, “But it’s never going to happen. No matter how hard I try these days, I can’t seem to lose more than a pound, and that never stays off long. I’m destined to be tall, but frumpy.”
“Sounds as if Annie isn’t the only one who could use a body image lecture,” Maddie said. “I’ll get Helen over here first thing in the morning. When you come by to drop off the salads for the café, we’ll fix that thinking of yours right up. You’re gorgeous, Dana Sue Sullivan, and don’t you forget that for a single second.”
“Let’s just focus on Annie for the time being,” Dana Sue replied, dismissing her own food issues, as well as Maddie’s loyal attempt to bolster her spirits. “She’s the one who could be in real trouble, not me.”
“Then Helen and I will help you deal with it,” Maddie assured her. “Have the Sweet Magnolias ever let each other down?”
“Not once,” Dana Sue admitted, then hesitated as a distant memory came back to her and made her smile, temporarily wiping out her anxiety over Annie. “Wait. I take that back. There was that time you two left me twisting in the wind to deal with a cop after we played a prank on our gym teacher.”
“That prank was your idea, and we didn’t intentionally leave you behind,” Maddie corrected. “We thought you could run faster. We came back for you, didn’t we?”
“Sure, right after the cop called my folks and threatened to haul me off to jail if he caught me doing anything that stupid again. I was so scared I was throwing up by the time you came back.”
“Yes, well, there’s no need to dwell on ancient history,” Maddie said briskly. “We will be there to help with Annie, whatever she needs. You, too.”
“Thanks. I’ll talk to you later, then.”
When Dana Sue placed the portable phone back in its charger, she felt the first faint stirring of relief. She’d faced a lot of turmoil, and had triumphed with Maddie and Helen by her side. They’d gotten her through her divorce and helped her open her restaurant when she hadn’t been convinced she could do it. Surely this crisis—if there even was a crisis—could be tackled just as easily if they all put their heads together.
* * *
Annie hated her physical education class. She was a complete and total klutz. Worse, Ms. Franklin—who weighed about a hundred pounds soaking wet and had boundless enthusiasm for anything athletic—was always scowling at her, as if there was something wrong with her. Usually Annie scowled right back at her, but today she couldn’t seem to summon up the energy.
“Annie, I’d like to see you after class,” Ms. Franklin said, once she’d tortured them all by making them jog around the track. Twice.
“Uh-oh,” Sarah said, giving Annie a commiserating look. “What do you suppose she wants?”
“I doubt she’s going to ask me to go out for the track team,” Annie joked, still trying to catch her breath. She’d never been athletic, but lately even the slightest bit of activity left her winded, unlike Sarah, who looked as if the run had been no more than a stroll between classes.
Sarah, who’d been Annie’s best friend since fifth grade and knew most of her deepest, darkest secrets, studied her worriedly. “You don’t think she’s going to say something about you being out of shape, do you? Grown-ups get all freaked out if they think we’re not ready to compete in some marathon or
