Ask Mariah Read Free Page B

protested.
    "You might like a few other things, too, if you ever gave them a chance."
    "Like what?"
    "Like sex."
    "I've had sex.  And it's nice but not exactly earth-shattering."
    Nora laughed. "Then you haven't had good sex."
    "Oh, please, are you going to tell me you see fireworks, that the room spin arounds in dizzying delight, and you think you'll die from the passion?"
    Nora smiled somewhat smugly. "I'm not going to tell you anything, except this. If you find yourself the right man, I guarantee all those things will happen."
    "Yeah, and I believe in magic, too," Joanna said.
    Actually she wanted to believe in love and magic. Unfortunately reality kept slapping her in the face. "I think it's time to go back into the torture chamber." She motioned toward the aerobics room.
    "My muscles are still burning," Nora complained.
    "I think that's the point."
    "Your mom seems to be doing well these days," Nora commented as they glanced into the aerobics class, where the group was dancing to a new beat, "At least on the outside."
    "She likes to stay busy. It keeps her mind off the fact that my dad is gone."
    "You're lucky to have a mother like her. She's always been your best friend, one of the girls. You wouldn't catch my mother in an aerobics class to save her life."
    "Your mother is wonderful, always baking cookies and pies and decorating your house for every holiday," Joanna said wistfully. "My mother hasn't cooked a Christmas turkey in twenty years."
    "We always want what we don't have."
    "I guess." As an only child Joanna hadn't wanted for much. She had been the focus of her mother's life. They had done everything together -- gone to the ballet, art museums, and the symphony. She had accompanied her parents on trips to Europe and the South Pacific. She'd been incredibly fortunate. The only thing she'd ever lacked was a little space for herself.
    Since she'd given up her apartment and since her father had died, things had gotten worse. Her mother wanted to do everything with her. As if on cue, Caroline appeared in the doorway.
    "Joanna, there you are," she scolded, shaking her finger, "You need to cool down or your muscles will tighten up. Come walk with me."
    "Too late. My muscles are on a coffee break," she said, retreating against the wall. "I can't move until they come back."
    "Really, Joanna." Caroline smiled at Nora. "I love your haircut. I'm thinking of doing something different with my hair, something more cool," she said with a self-conscious smile. "That is the right word, isn't it?"
    Nora laughed. "You are the coolest, Mrs. Wingate. I go to Capelli's down on Union Street."
    "Mm-mm, I may have to try them." Caroline patted her hair, which she had worn in the same style for the past twenty years. "Do they do manicures? I'd love to get one. And a pedicure would be heaven. I'll call them on Monday. We can make a day of it," Caroline said, gaining enthusiasm. "What do you think, Joanna?"
    She smiled faintly. Her mother seemed to be on a quest to find something new to do each day. She never wanted to just be home. "I'm not sure what my plans are for Monday or next week for that matter." The summer was looming ahead of her and she needed to do more than just keep her mother company.
    "Actually, I wanted to talk to you about your summer plans," Nora interrupted. "One of the teachers at Happy Hollow School is having a difficult pregnancy, and her doctor wants her to go to bed for six weeks. The summer session starts Monday and, well, we're desperate for a first grade teacher.  I thought of you."
    She looked at Nora in amazement. "Seriously?"
    "Yes. You love kids, Joanna. And you're an experienced teacher."
    "For eighteen-year-olds, not six-year-olds."
    Nora waved a hand. "Oh, there's hardly any difference. The lesson plans are done. You just have to follow the schedule."
    The offer was tempting. She needed to do something different for a few months.  Since her father's death, she'd lost interest in her life and her old