The Book That Matters Most Read Free Page B

prompted.
    Ava stood because John had, sending her small paper plate onto the floor. She felt a slight whoosh of nervousness in her stomach.
    â€œWell, so, I’m Cate’s friend Ava and Cate is one of those friends, a true friend, a real friend. I mean, my life has fallen apart and Cate . . . Cate . . .” Ava felt herself struggling to hold back tears. Her humiliation at being left by her husband loomed enormous.
    Someone cleared her throat. Ava took a breath, told herself to move along, pull it together.
    â€œAnd Paula moved to Cincinnati—” she began.
    â€œCleveland,” someone corrected.
    â€œCleveland,” Ava said. Come on , she told herself, you know how to do this . “So here I am, in an effort to move on. Try new things. Meet new people.”
    Wait. Wasn’t that exactly what John had said?
    â€œLike John,” she added.
    John looked up, surprised.
    Ava laughed, nervously.
    â€œI don’t mean I’m here to meet John, though I’m happy to meet him. I mean you,” she said, shooting a smile in his direction. John went back to staring at his lap.
    Ava took another breath. She talked to her students all the time, standing in front of the classroom, confident and in charge. Why was she so nervous here?
    â€œI love to read,” Ava continued. “Or at least, I used to. I mean, my mother and my aunt owned a bookstore. Orlando’s? On Thayer Street?”
    Not one flicker of recognition passed over anyone’s face. Why should it? Orlando’s had been gone for over forty years.
    Ava took another breath and continued, “And my mother evenused to write. She had a couple stories in Redbook back in the early seventies. Domestic stories, nothing very literary, but still.”
    She searched for where she was going with this. Why had she brought up her mother? Cate looked somewhat horrified, and the guy in the porkpie hat was smirking at her.
    â€œI love to read,” Ava said again, weakly.
    â€œWell, good!” Cate said. “Because this is a book group!”
    Everyone, thankfully, turned their attention back to Cate. The guy in the hat smiled at Ava, but it seemed like a smile of pity, a you poor thing smile. She decided she hated him.
    â€œHere we are,” Cate said, “at our December meeting, which is the one in which we choose our reading list for next year. John and Ava—”
    She frowned. “Ava, you can sit down now,” she said in her schoolmarm voice.
    Ava hadn’t even realized she was still standing. She sat quickly, kicking over her plastic glass. Luckily, it was empty.
    â€œAnyway,” Cate said, taking a calming breath like they did in yoga, another activity she forced Ava to do with her. Yoga will help you feel better , she’d promised, but it didn’t. “John and Ava, I gave you both next year’s theme . . .”
    She had? Ava tried to remember a theme, or even a conversation about a theme. But all she could remember were her own persistent inquiries about joining the group. Couldn’t Cate bend the membership limit just this once? she’d kept asking, and Cate would patiently explain how too big a group prevented everyone from getting to choose a book, and that the room wasn’t big enough to accommodate more people, and this way all the members had ample time to contribute their thoughts. When she got the email from Cate with the subject line A spothas opened in the book group! , she’d felt such relief and gratitude that it was possible she never actually read the entire email.
    Honor turned in her seat in the row in front of Ava.
    â€œYou okay?” Honor whispered. “You’re kind of flushed.” She swept her hands over her own cheeks as if Ava didn’t understand the word “flushed.”
    â€œI’m fine,” Ava said. “Thanks.”
    Honor shrugged and turned back around. She had on layers and layers of clothes. An enormous, vaguely