Free The Accidental Book Club by Jennifer Scott

Lou’s.”
    “Before we get off task,” Jean began, but it was already too late. You didn’t bring up an establishment like Lookie Lou’s and not get a reaction. Not in this group, anyway.
    “No way!” May gasped. “The stripper place?”
    Dorothy nodded. “That was my reaction too. Who wants to see that old broad take her clothes off?”
    “You mean other than Elan,” Loretta pointed out.
    “Well, Elan’s standards plummeted the moment he turned fifty and bought that dumb motorcycle of his,” Dorothy said.
    Loretta rolled her eyes. “That thing’s not a motorcycle. It’s a glorified bicycle. All it needs is tassels on the handlebars.”
    “I’m pretty sure the tassels are on his girlfriend, if you know what I mean,” Mitzi said.
    “How’d you find out?” May asked.
    Dorothy made a face. “You’d rather not know.”
    Which, of course, made everyone want to know.
    “Justin saw her there,” Mitzi finally volunteered. “Can you imagine? Busting into a strip club with your fake ID, all ready to get your excitement, and there’s your dad’s girlfriend? Hi, Stepmom! When’s dinner?” She cackled and upended her drink.
    “For real?”
    Dorothy nodded miserably, then turned to Jean. “We gonna eat soon? This conversation is going to turn my stomach.”
    “Of course,” Jean said, jumping up from her chair and herding everyone back into the kitchen. “Before everything gets cold.” Not that Jean cared too much about cold these days. Lately she’d taken to eating cold soup out of the can while standing over the kitchen sink. What was the point of dirtying a bunch of dishes for one person? Although, on the inside, she supposed she knew that was hardly healthy behavior.
    Truth was, she wasn’t really in the mood for food right now, either. She’d been too into everyone’s stories. The dating, the ex-husband, the mother, even Loretta’s creepy adoration of R. Sebastian Thackeray. Keeping tabs on her friends’ lives helped her feel connected. And helped keep her mind off Laura.
    “So, Jean, how is Laura, really?” Mitzi finally asked as they all sat down around their plates.
    “I haven’t talked to her since the hospital,” Jean said. “And Curt hasn’t called me in two weeks. I’m assuming everything is status quo.”
    “Is she still in there?”
    Jean shrugged. “Who knows? They don’t exactly keep me in the loop. And I hate to bother them. Curt seems . . . frazzled, I guess.”
    “Who’d blame him?” May said. “Sounds like his life is a shambles right now. I think I’d be frazzled.”
    “Both of their lives,” Jean said. “My granddaughter, Bailey, is apparently acting out too. Being a real problem, from the sound of it.”
    “Aw,” Mitzi said, and clucked her tongue. “Poor thing. Probably doesn’t know what hit her.”
    Jean shrugged, remembering the sadness she saw in her granddaughter’s eyes that day she’d spotted her up in the loft. There was something about those eyes that begged for help, yet at the same time seemed to also threaten. In the end, Jean couldn’t bring herself to tell Curt he’d seen her up there. She felt as if it wasn’t her battle, and Bailey wanted it that way. She couldn’t pretend to know what was going through Bailey’s mind, or what the girl was thinking and feeling. Surely she felt lost and alone. Surely she missed her mother. But Jean couldn’t shake the nagging feeling of guilt for not reaching out to her when she could have. She wasn’t sure she’d done the right thing. “I’ll call them again tonight, see if I can find out what’s going on,” she said.
    “It’s all you can do,” Loretta agreed.
    “Maybe you haven’t heard anything because it went so well she’s already out and back at home,” May added.
    “Hopefully so,” Jean said, but deep down inside she knew it meant anything but that.
    After lunch, they convened in the living room, where everyone sprawled back against the thick cushions, complaining about