Dr. Levy said a few days ago. Joan thought it was a virus at first. Her mom had been sick and there was word, as they’re often is, that there was “something going around.” But according to the doctor, this had nothing to do with any virus. “We found more cancer,” Dr. Levy said. “You’ll need another surgery to remove more of the lung.” What little air there was in Joan’s lung exhaled in despair. “I know this is a tremendous setback, Joan, but we need to remove it.” Joan’s eyes filled with tears. Not another surgery. Not this close to Thanksgiving and Christmas. John grabbed her hand and looked at the doctor. “But I can’t perform the surgery until you get your weight up.” Joan glanced up at him. “You need to eat high-calorie, high-protein meals. Think cream, butter, steak, chicken, turkey, eggs, half-and-half, sour cream, cheese, olive oil,” he said. “Do you cook?”

Joan tried to smile. “I’ve been learning, but all this has…”

“She does cook,” John said. “She’s a great cook.”

“Good. Eat lots of veggies, especially tomatoes, carrots, onions, and garlic,” Dr. Levy said. “Eat plenty of apples. Put some blueberries and walnuts on yogurt.”

Joan’s face looked sick. “The very thought of all those…”

Dr. Levy nodded in understanding. “I know. But you need to gain weight.”

“How much?” Joan asked.

“At least eight pounds. More would be best.”

“We’ll stop by the grocery on the way home,” John said, concerned.

Joan looked at him. “I am eating, Dr. Levy. It just seems that no matter what I eat, it doesn’t stick to me.”

Dr. Levy leaned against his desk. “The cancer cells are fighting hard against you, Joan. You need to fight against them harder. Can you do it?”

“She’s the Wrecking Ball,” John said, looking at the doctor and trying to make Joan smile.

“She’s what?”

“The Wrecking Ball, Champion of 1972. She will jab and punch and kick cancer’s butt!”

“Kicking’s against the rules,” Joan said, correcting him.

“If you’re fighting cancer,” Dr. Levy said, playing along, “you use whatever method of defense you have.”

For a reason he can’t describe, John shuts off the saw, turns off the lights in the shop, and walks back inside the house. He senses that something isn’t right and enters the kitchen from the garage. The lights are off, the kitchen is dark, and he finds Joan lying on the sofa as the kids play together on the floor. He sits next to her on the couch and squeezes her shoulder. “Don’t give up.”

She is confused. “I thought you were going to work on the table for a while.”

“It’s close to dinnertime and the lights are off in the kitchen.” She looks at him, perplexed. “It’s a setback, Joansie. Don’t give up. Please.” She begins to shake her head. “Today’s the day.”

“John…”

He raises his hand to stop her. “You need to gain weight, and I’m going to the kitchen to make you chicken alfredo with lots of cream.”

She reaches for his hand. “You don’t know how to make chicken alfredo.”

“That’s why I’m calling your mom. Alice will be over here like that,” he says, snapping his fingers. “The two of us are going to put weight on you.” He jumps up and runs from the room, returning in moments with the blue satin boxer’s robe she wore on Halloween, and lays it over her. “When dinner’s ready I want you to wear this to the table.” He kisses her and leaves the room.

John reaches for the phone on the wall in the kitchen and dials the number. He knows that Alice will help him cook one meal, eight, twenty-four, or a hundred and two! Whatever it takes. They’ll cook together, and Joan will gain weight and he’ll get fat. He’ll do it. Whatever it takes.

November 2012

Days have gone by, and Lauren still has not heard from Bud. “He could be out of town,” Gloria says, nibbling on a cookie. “Maybe he goes to Florida for the winter.”

“Oh, great!” Lauren says, reaching for a cookie from the tray that was left on Gloria’s desk. “I hadn’t even thought of that.”

“Why do you need to find him anyway?” Gloria asks.

“I’m hoping he can help me solve a mystery.”

Gloria takes the final bite of her cookie. “Like the mystery of who keeps leaving these yummy treats in my office?” She reaches for another cookie. “What did the note call these again?”

Lauren reads it. “Truffle cookies.” She looks at the cookie in her hand. “So moist.”

“I’m afraid I’m going to get fat eating all these treats,” Gloria says. She cranes her neck to see if Miriam is in the hallway. “As soon as I say something like that, big-mouth Miriam has something smart to say.” She leans in close to Lauren, whispering, “Do you think I’m getting fat?”

“Not yet.” Lauren pops the last bite of cookie into her mouth as she leaves Gloria’s office.

“Not yet?” Gloria calls after her. She looks at the cookie and wonders if she should finish it. She shrugs, shoving the last bite into her mouth.

Lauren walks into the tutoring room and picks up the reading book she will be going through with Jenson today. At ten, he still struggles with sounding out words. She feels the baby kick and puts her hand on her stomach.

“Everything okay?” Andrea asks, entering the room.

Lauren smiles. “Sure. The baby has been so active recently. Come here.”

Andrea steps to her, and Lauren reaches for her hand, placing it on her stomach. “Wow! Football player? Soccer? Maybe doing ballet?”

“Sometimes it feels like all three at once! For some reason, the baby decides to be very active while I am trying to sleep!”

Jenson bounces into the room and says, “Hey! What’s going on?”

“Come here, buddy,” Lauren says. She puts his hand on her stomach and his eyes bug out.

“What is that?”

Lauren and Andrea laugh. “That’s my baby. Remember when your mom had your baby brother?”

He nods. “I wanted her to have a frog,” he says, disappointed.

Lauren rears her head back, laughing. “Grab your book and look

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