Chapter Twenty-Nine

LOLLY TOOK HER place at the diner booth hesitantly. She looked different to Nan somehow. She wore jeans and flip-flops—that was it. No running tights, no top-of-the-line running shoes. Her hair was loose, no ponytail bobbing.

She looks humbled. Nan remembered the times in her own life when she’d been humbled; it had felt like ripping off a bandage, her feelings so raw and tender underneath. Those times were when Nan realized that every single platitude and cliché about life came from a real place, that those comforting thoughts were actually true. It is always darkest before the dawn. Cracks are how the light gets in. Nan didn’t remark on Lolly’s changes. She just welcomed her to the secret book club. Chuck and Mr. El both stood and shook her hand.

“I’ve been reading nothing but biographies,” Lolly said. “It’s the funniest thing. I never read them before in my whole life.”

They all waited, sipping coffee and keeping eye contact with Lolly.

“Mostly women, but not all,” Lolly said.

The diner fell silent, one of those pauses that happened naturally even when a restaurant was full of people, when it seemed like everyone eating had taken a big bite at the same time and stopped talking to chew.

One of those odd thoughts popped into Nan’s head, the answer to the reference question she had been asked earlier: How many diners are there in New Jersey? The answer was approximately 525—more than in any other state. They were the real treasures of the state, in her opinion. Forget beaches and casinos. She kept the fact to herself. Now was not the time to spew interesting trivia on the table.

“All these biographies are about people who had it way worse than me,” Lolly said. “Women who faced every obstacle with so much courage. Women who made a real difference in the world. I’m starting to get it. I can’t sit around feeling sorry for myself.”

“Ah,” Mr. El said. It wasn’t even a word, but it seemed to charge up the atmosphere at the table.

“Biographies,” Chuck said. “That’s brilliant. Exactly what I needed to hear. I need to read biographies too. I need to read about people with courage and faith. My daughter’s home, but I’m so afraid every day that she’ll relapse. It’s killing me.”

“After every one that I read, I think hard about how I’m going to live my own life,” Lolly said. “I asked my husband to stay with his other family for a while. My mom moved in to help with my kids. I need time to myself to figure out my life.”

“Wouldn’t it be wonderful if doctors and therapists prescribed books instead of drugs all the time?” Nan mused out loud.

“Oh, I’m taking drugs too,” Lolly said.

Nan knew she’d fit right into the book club when they all laughed. At first, Lolly had just a little grin on her face, but then she broke right out into an actual open-mouthed snort. She was one of them now.