Friendship Makes the Heart Grow Fonder by Lisa Verge Higgins Read Free Book Online

her toes to fix Judy with her sharp hazel gaze. “I could use a second hand.”
    “You mean helping you convince Becky to go along with you? If she has any sense, she’ll jump at the opportunity.”
    “I’m asking if you’ll come with us.”
    Judy heard Monique’s words but she wasn’t sure she’d heard them right, and her mind did somersaults as she struggled to understand
     what was just offered. The dogs took advantage of her inattention and broke from her inertia, dragging her in skittering steps
     farther down the path. She stumbled after them, yanked just as fiercely into memory.
    She’d had long hair that fell to her waist. She’d had flexible knees and no marriage or mortgage or children. She’d had an
     internship at the European Parliament, as a translator and coffee-fetcher, briskly walking through the echoing halls, shifting
     papers from one office to another, filled with a sense of international purpose. And after the internship was done, she had
     money in her pocket and a crew of Belgian and French buddies who were thinking of tripping off to Marseilles. The world had
     unfurled before her, one winding cobblestoned street at a time. She’d wandered across the continent, sleeping in hostels and
     on park benches, working the grape harvests, eating from street vendors, basking in the sunshine.
    It flooded over her, the hot, hungry, swift-footed joy of it.
    “Wow,” Monique said, stretching her arms over her head, “I didn’t think it was possible to shock you into silence. But it’s
     not a joke, Judy. You can even choose a destination or two, as long as it’s not too far off the path—”
    “This is crazy.” Judy yanked sharply on the leash, dragging herself and her dogs and her senses back to Monique’s side. “I’m
     not going to be a cliché, Monie.”
    Monique paused in her stretching, cocking her head in confusion.
    “It’s in all the books. Middle-aged guys in crisis buy little red sports cars and take up marathon running. But middle-aged
     women trot off to Europe to ‘find themselves’ and end up shacking up on the Adriatic coast with Italian lovers.”
    Monique sputtered.
    “Besides, to fund this new level of midlife crisis, I’d have to dig into Audrey’s tuition money.”
    “No, no.” She waved a finger. “You’re not going to spend a single penny. This is all-expenses-paid. Lenny left me enough,
     and it’s been in high-interest CDs ever since.”
    “You can’t have that much.”
    “Wasn’t I prepared to take both Kiera and Becky? Now Kiera’s out.” Her face was a sudden rictus of pain. “There’s enough money
     for three. Maybe not for an Italian lover though. That’s all on you.”
    Judy opened her mouth but no words formed. She mustn’t think of the young woman she once was. She’d cast that girl aside when
     she’d returned to New York, giving up wanderlust to tumble into Bob’s welcoming arms.
    No. She must think logically.
    She thought about the mums she was going to plant in the side garden. She thought about the shutter on the front of the house
     that was peeling and needed to be taken down, scraped, and repainted. She thought about her mother’s antique vanity made out
     of bird’s-eye maple that she wanted to sand down and refinish. She thought about the attic paint job that had been “waiting”
     for approximately thirteen years, since she and Bob had renovated the attic themselves, as a room for their oldest boy to
     live in. Back then they’d finished the Sheetrock and laid a rug over the old attic boards, but Robert couldn’t wait so he
     moved in. The next thing they knew he was moving to college.
    A family now scattered, like so many dandelion seeds to the wind.
    “Look, there’s Becky.” Monique glanced over to where the tall, slim mother emerged from around the railroad tracks. The blonde
     kept sure to the path, her head lowered, her special sunglasses with the amber lenses covering half her face. “I’d like to
     ask