The bright Florida sun fills the room and wakes me from a deep sleep. I roll over and snuggle into a warm, hard body. When I finally manage to pry my eyes open, I’m surprised to find it’s already almost ten in the morning. We haven’t slept this late in years. Though, after last night’s romp between the sheets, I needed the rest.

“Good morning, beautiful.”

“Good morning, my lover,” I say while I stretch and yawn. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah, when I finally fell asleep, I slept like a rock. Seems you did too. You were out before I could reach the lamp.”

“It’s your fault. You wore me out.” I lay my head on his shoulder and hear the rumble of his chuckle through his chest.

“Sorry, but I’m not sorry about that. I plan to help you sleep that well every night.”

“I’m going to hold you to your word.”

“I’ll give you something to hold, all right.”

I’ve missed our fun and sexy banter. It feels so good to have it back.

“Don’t worry, honey. I’ll hold it all you want tonight.”

“I need you to put that in writing,” he chuckles. “But for now, it’s time to get ready. Your mom has big plans for you this morning. I sent her a text and let her know you were sleeping in. But if you keep her waiting much longer, she’ll start banging on the door.”

“You’re not coming with us?”

“Not this morning. I have a few things to take care of around here. You’ll be back here with me before you know it. Go have fun with Gretchen, my mom, and Leigh. They love you too.”

“I’ll go this morning, but I refuse to leave you every day when we are finally on vacation at the beach. The rest of the week is ours together.”

“If you insist,” he teases with an exaggerated roll of his eyes. “I guess I can squeeze you into my busy schedule.”

“Smartass.” I laugh as I get up and head toward the shower.

“You love my smart ass, and you know it.”

I stop and wait for his gaze to meet mine. “I do love you, Blake. I don’t say this enough, but you’ve always been in my heart. No matter what the future holds, I want you to remember that.”

“You own all of me, Grace, all my love. Until the end of time.”

Mom, Anna, and Leigh are waiting when Blake and I emerge from our room.

“Could you two be more like newlyweds? Hanging all over each other, kissing, being all lovey-dovey all the time. Public displays of affection are frowned upon by most people, you know.” Leigh shifts her weight to one leg, juts her hip out, and puts her hand on her waist.

“Then it’s a good thing we don’t care what most people think, isn’t it?” Blake replies with a shameless smile for Leigh.

“Can I have my best friend now? Or do we need to have you two surgically separated?”

“You can borrow her—but only for a little while. I’ll need her back soon, or I’ll have to come find her.”

Leigh rolls her eyes and loops her arm with mine, pulling me out from under Blake’s hold. “We’re having a girls’ day today. No boys allowed. Sorry.”

Blake places a lingering kiss against my temple. “Have fun today without me. Don’t overdo it, though. If you need to rest, make them sit down with you for a while.”

“I will—don’t worry about me. What are you doing today?”

“Kyle, Alex, Dad, Matt, and I have plans for a male-bonding day while you girls are out having fun. I’ll see you this evening. Love you, babe.”

“Love you too.”

“That’s enough of that. I’m going to be sick from all this sugary-sweet shit.” Leigh begins walking away, pulling me with her, while the chorus of laughter echoes off the walls.

We slide into the back of the waiting limo, and I look expectantly at my girlfriends for the day. “Where are we going? What are we doing? What’s going on? Someone has to tell me!”

“First, we’re going to get your hair done. You haven’t done anything with it in forever,” Leigh says with a straight face.

We lock eyes for a second before I burst out laughing. “Leave it to you to break the ice.”

“I’m glad I’m good for something. Your mom has a wonderful day planned for us, so we’re just going to follow her lead.”

“Mom, spill it.”

“Leigh isn’t far off base. We’re having a fun twist on a spa day. You’ve been under a lot of stress lately, and you deserve to be pampered for a while. There’s an upscale spa nearby that offers so many services—hair, nails, makeup, massages, saunas, hot tubs. If it helps you relax, they have it. Only so many people are allowed in per day, so you can have as many of the services as you want.”

“That sounds perfect. I can’t wait. Right now, all those choices are calling my name. The only thing I don’t know is which service to have first.”

“We may have already made all the appointments for the day,” Anna chimes in. “We wanted to make sure we were able to make the rounds to all the areas before they close. This is for you, sweetheart, and we want you to enjoy every second of it.”

“I’m sure I will, Anna. I’ve never been to a spa before, so I’m just thrilled to finally get the full treatment. I’m glad all of you are going with me, too. This is our first all-girls’ day together.”

The facility is behind a gated drive to keep anyone without an appointment from disrupting the serenity for those inside. The sprawling estate is immaculate, with thick green grass, clusters of palm trees providing shade for the swinging hammocks, and small, zero entry pools dotting the landscape for a private oasis. We haven’t even stepped foot inside the building inspired by ancient Roman architecture yet, but I already know we won’t ever want to leave.

A personal concierge greets us at the door and introduces herself as Julie. Our limo driver steps up behind us and hands the bellhop several small suitcases and garment bags. No one meets my questioning gaze when I move my eyes from my mom to Leigh then to Anna. Julie takes us on a tour of the facility, showing us where all the amenities are located, before escorting us to a large changing room.

“This changing room is only for your party. Your bags are already here. You can store your valuables in the lockers—just take the wristband key with you. You’re also free to use the robes and slippers. Let any of our staff members know if we can do anything to make your day more relaxing.”

“All right, ladies. Let’s change into our robes and get our full-body massages to start the day off right,” Anna says.

The Asian-themed massage room is cool and inviting, with four massage tables lined along the long wall in front of covered windows. Cloth blinds filter the harsh light from outside to maintain the tranquility inside. The beds are separated by chest-high partitions for privacy, but the open space above allows for conversations. The therapists explain what we can expect before telling us to lie facedown on the tables. When they leave the room to give us privacy to disrobe, I turn to Mom.

“Did you arrange for us to do all of our activities together today?”

“Yes. I hope you don’t mind. I just want us to spend as much time together as we can. This is a special trip, and I want to remember every minute of it.”

“No, I don’t mind at all. I’m actually relieved, to be honest. I was afraid I’d go into the wrong room and embarrass myself.”

The sheets on the massage table are the softest I’ve ever felt. After I sink down into the covers, I breathe out slowly, fully exhaling and letting the stress leave my body. The scents and sounds in the room add to the overall ambiance. Knowing my family is so close provides another level of comfort.

All the years we’ve wasted with petty disagreements and insignificant differences still trouble me occasionally, but I push those feelings aside and focus on my life at this moment. When they said they were going to spoil me this week, they weren’t kidding. I could easily get used to this life—a marriage forged in the fires and bonded by steel. A close-knit family that includes in-laws and best friends. My teenage son, willingly spending his senior year spring break with his mom, dad, and grandparents instead of going away with his friends.

This is the life I’ve always wanted.

Two hours later, after the sea salt exfoliation scrub and the full-body massage is over, I’m too relaxed to move. If I could just stay in this room the rest of the day, I could go back to the hotel a very happy woman. But the demanding women I came here with reject my plan and force me to leave my comfortable place. With my robe belt tied securely around my waist and my complimentary slippers on my feet, I follow them to the next room, wondering what awaits me.

“Welcome, welcome. You ladies must be the Baldwin-Hardy-Brydon party.” An immaculately dressed woman steps out from behind the counter and warmly greets each of us. Her hair is perfectly coiffed, and her makeup looks professionally applied. Her long, slender fingers are tipped in a beautiful French manicure. Her smile is genuine, and her presence is inviting. She loves her job, and it shows in her manner.

“We are. You must be Monica,” Mom says and extends her hand.

“And you must be Gretchen. It’s nice to meet you in person finally.”

“Monica, I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you coming in for us on your off day. Wilma has been a dear friend of mine for years, and she insisted no one else would do except you.”

“That’s very kind of her to say. It really was no problem at all. I simply switched days with another of our artists, and I have to tell you, it worked out much better for me in the long run.” Her laugh is genuine, and I immediately feel at ease with Monica. Some people just click as soon as they meet. She seems to be one of those people who can click with anyone.

“This is my daughter, Grace. Next to her is Anna, Grace’s mother-in-law. And that young lady beside Anna is Leigh, Grace’s best friend since they were little kids.”

Monica moves to each of us as Mom makes introductions, shaking our hands and reciting her polite hellos. When she first looked at me, I didn’t see any shock over my baldness in her expression. That makes me wonder how much Mom told her before we arrived.

“I’m so glad to meet all of you. I’m honored you chose me to handle such a momentous day. All four of you here together for the first time, getting pampered and probably putting yourselves first for the first time in forever. Come inside my studio, and let’s get started. I’m excited about what we’re doing today!”

Again, no one will even glance at me to explain the cryptic meaning behind Monica’s words. Instead, I’m ushered first through the door and into what she referred to as her studio. The room is brighter than the reception area. One side of the room has thick, padded electric lounge chairs, while the other has full-service hair salon chairs. Pedicure chairs and nail technician stations sit at the far end of the room. This is a luxury full-service room at its finest.

“Grace, make yourself comfortable in one of the lounge chairs, and I’ll be right with you. Gretchen and Anna, you’re both starting at the salon stations. Leigh, we’re going to start you with a manicure and pedicure. As we finish with each of you, you’ll just move to the next station—except for you, Grace. You’re with me the whole time.”

I’m not sure what Monica plans to do to me, but I do as she says and make myself comfortable on the padded lounge chair. She pulls a wheeled chair up beside me and makes small talk while she lays out a variety of products on a mobile table. When she has it all arranged, she turns to me.

“When your mom called and asked me to be here today, she told me all about your condition. I want to be upfront with you about that and say I completely understand what you’re going through. My mom also had breast cancer and lost all her hair from the chemotherapy. I was very grateful I could use my skills to help her. Are you ready to get started?”

“What are we doing, exactly? I don’t know what your skills are. Everyone is keeping secrets from me today.”

The sly smile that spreads across Monica’s face says she knows the secret and also isn’t telling. “I’m an aesthetician. I offer more than regular cosmetology services. For today, your mom asked me to give you a facial, airbrush your makeup, and apply synthetic eyelashes and eyebrows. Are you okay with all that?”

Am I okay with it? I want to cry I’m so happy. I’ve missed my eyelashes more than I ever realized I could. I took them for granted every day of my life for thirty-six years, until the day they all fell out, and I had to get used to living without them.

All I can do is nod my head. I don’t want any tears today, especially since they’ll ruin my makeup and new eyelashes.

Monica works on me the entire time. I hear the others chatting and changing places, but I’m happy in my chair with my personal aesthetician overseeing every detail of my face. From the facial that felt like a gentle massage and left my skin as soft as a baby’s bottom, to the professionally applied airbrush makeup, to the fake eyebrows that will look real, to the eyelashes she’s now gluing on my eyelids, I’ve been treated like royalty. I can’t wait to open my eyes and see what she’s called her masterpiece.

“Keep your eyes closed for a minute. The glue is drying, and the fumes can burn your eyes a little.”

The lounge chair begins to move, raising my back up to sitting position. I’m so excited, I can hardly wait to open my eyes. From around the room, I hear a couple of gasps followed by someone making a shushing noise. Then sniffles. Dammit, now I know I’m going to cry and make a mess of my new face.

“Okay, Grace. I’ve moved the mirror directly in front of you. Open your eyes now.”

The moment I’ve been waiting for is finally here.

My eyes slowly flutter open, and I immediately notice the weight of my new eyelashes. That gives me a giddy feeling. I have eyelashes!

Then I see the woman staring back at me. The woman in the mirror who has eyebrows, eyelashes, and perfect skin…but no hair. The fears I’ve pushed down deep inside me, that I’ve ignored and played off like they don’t matter, come rushing to the surface all at once. I stare, expressionless with a calm exterior, but so many questions fly through my mind.

How will I ever be able to compete with Tammy in Blake’s eyes? She’s younger, prettier, and healthier. I’ll never be that woman again.

How can Blake ever be physically attracted to me again? I don’t look the same anymore, and all the makeup and plastic in the world won’t change that fact. Chances are, I’ll be on chemotherapy for the rest of my life—what’s left of it—and that means not only will I have no hair, but no eyelashes and no eyebrows either. No body hair of any kind.

How will I be confident enough to undress in front of him after I finish this regimen? When I have surgery—whether that’s a lumpectomy or a mastectomy—there will be a period when my chest will be disfigured…uneven…ugly.

“Grace?” Mom almost whispers and slowly approaches me. “What do you think?”

What do I think?

I’m scared—to death.

“I think Monica is amazing,” I reply, forcing a smile when I look up at her.

My gaze drops back to the woman in the mirror, and I force the tears back down my throat.

“You look gorgeous.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

“Ladies, can you give us a minute?” Leigh asks then sits down beside me. The others file out of the studio, back into the reception area. When we’re alone, Leigh puts her hand on my shoulder. “Spill it. What’s wrong?”

Since I can’t bear to look in the mirror any longer, I turn to face her head on. Then I spew every fear, every thought, and every worry I’ve held inside.

“I’ve tried to be strong. I’ve tried to move past it and look on the bright side. I’ve tried to be grateful I’m still alive and my cancer is responding to treatment…so far. But everything just hit me all of a sudden, like a two-ton brick falling on my head. Before you give me the pep talk about it’s what’s inside that matters and all that other bullshit, I know all the platitudes. They’re just words—they don’t help.”

Leigh nods and purses her lips while my rant sinks in. “Grace, I won’t even pretend to know exactly how you feel. You know I’m vain as hell when it comes to my hair. I have an ugly shaped head. Without my hair, I’d scare all the little kids and most of the adults. Alex would have to go to every wig store and bring home every human-hair wig he could find. I’d hire the makeup artists from Hollywood to put the wig on me every day so it would stay and look natural. None of that showing net bullshit.”

I can’t help but start laughing, picturing Leigh doing everything she’s threatened, and knowing without a doubt she would at least try.

“But here’s the deal—and I’m being straight with you. I’ve never known a more beautiful woman than you. I’ve never seen a more beautiful woman. And neither has Blake. Hair or no hair. Eyebrows or no eyebrows. Eyelashes or no eyelashes. Makeup or no makeup. None of that matters. It’s like the icing on top of the icing on top of the cake.

“Even with your momentary lapse in judgment and temporary nervous breakdown, you’re still stronger than I ever will be. You’re also smart enough to know all that bullshit you just told me is completely wrong. Now, if you’re through with your pity party, we’re on a tight schedule here, and you’re keeping me from happy hour back at the hotel.”

I grab her around the neck and hug her tightly. Because she’s my best friend. She’s the sister I never had. She’s the one who can make me mad and make me laugh and make me forget my troubles all in one conversation. And I’m learning how important and vital my support system really is because there’s no way I could face all of this without her with me.

“Grace, don’t mess up my hair with your tears. You know what humidity does to it.”

With a full belly laugh, I release her as I throw my head back. “I’m not crying, you old bitch. That would mess up my eyelashes and my makeup.”

“I’m here whenever you need me. You know that, Grace. But whether you have a full head of hair or none at all doesn’t matter to Blake. Whether you have a triple-D rack or have to wear a training bra, he doesn’t care. He loves you regardless of all that.

“You’ll get brand-new boobs, and you’ll want to touch them more than he does. You’ll find a treatment that doesn’t make all your hair fall out, and you’ll be cursed with naturally curly hair when it grows back. Then you’ll be happy. Or none of that will happen, but you’ll still be happy. And Blake will still love you through it all. You’re facing enough without worrying about vanity too. So, no more of that bullshit. Deal?”

“Deal.”