All the Single Ladies by Dorothea Benton Frank Read Free Book Online Page A

job description to help her friends, but you know that.”
    I just shrugged my shoulders and looked up at the sky.
    â€œIt got personal,” Judy said. “Didn’t it?”
    â€œYeah, it did,” I said. “Look, when somebody lives to a hundred and then they die, it’s okay to go.”
    â€œAnd this ain’t okay,” Margaret said.
    â€œYou got it. It makes me really mad,” I said.
    â€œI agree,” Judy said. “If helping them move her things can make you feel better, then go for it.”
    â€œI agree,” Margaret said. “Hey, sometimes life just stinks.”
    â€œYeah, it does,” I said. “But not all the time.”
    â€œThank the Good Lord for that,” Judy said. “You working tomorrow?”
    â€œNo, not so far,” I said. “Y’all call me if you need me, okay?”
    I got in my car thinking that I could use the extra hours of work, but at that moment I was concentrating on trying to honor Kathy Harper’s life, hoping to become the third wheel who was missing. I hated to admit it, but a part of me was doing this so I could get something out of it for myself. Did anyone ever do things completely altruistically? I thought for a moment and quickly decided yes. ­People did charitable things all the time. But if you acknowledged that being charitable made you happy, was it altruistic? Did personal satisfaction or a sense of pride negate the good that was done? Certainly seeking recognition for your good works seemed to devalue them on some level. But we were all only human. I’d been taught from the cradle of my parents’ arms—­such as they were—­that we were all sinners, victims of the frailties of existence on this earth. There’s no guilt like a parent’s guilt. Carol and Alan St. Clair could teach a class at Notre Dame about it.
    â€œFace it, babe,” I said to myself out loud, “you’re not a living saint.”
    So, I put my ego where it belonged and I resolved to help Carrie and Suzanne. If friendship evolved from it then so be it. That would be lovely. If it didn’t, then at least I had done something to help. That’s what I told myself. I used to be that girl who made friends so easily, never worried about a date for prom, and didn’t sweat that some sorority would want me as a sister. But after a failed marriage and a colossally failed business to boot I counted my blessings and didn’t torture myself wishing for things that would probably never come my way. Though I had to believe that friendship was not too much to want.
    And my bankruptcy? Okay, here’s the short story on that. Around ten years ago I had this idea for a business model that was just way, way ahead of its time. So I took out a home equity loan for the maximum they would lend me and rented space for a yoga studio and juice bar. I had been teaching yoga off and on for years and I began experimenting with juices because they made me feel amazing. And, it’s probably important to share that I was seeing this guy who was vegan. He was a bass player in a wedding band and, well, inappropriate. But over time he encouraged me to stop eating animals, and slowly but surely I felt wonderful physically and crystal clear mentally. In fact, I felt the best I had ever felt in my entire life. It was hard to make an argument against the facts. I became quite the enthusiast for organic vegan food. I’m completely over that now. Aside from a little juicing now and then and a few planks and downward dogs, I had fallen back into a secular lifestyle.
    Anyway, I spent the money building the interior of a gorgeous studio. We had locker rooms with showers that gave the experience of standing in a bamboo rain forest and a retro-­looking juice bar with tables made of blond wood of Scandinavian design and pale blue chairs. I had newspapers from all over the country delivered every day and every magazine