The phone rang before the sun even shone through my sheers. “Hello,” I said in a groggy voice, still half asleep even though the call had startled me.

“Late night?” Maria, my sister-in-law, asked with a small giggle.

I rolled onto my side and squinted to see the numbers on the alarm clock. “What the hell are you doing awake at this ungodly hour?”

“It’s almost eight, sleepyhead. We have tennis this morning, but it’s raining.”

“Ugh,” I groaned because I fucking hated tennis, but I played it with Maria weekly to make her happy. The only bright side was that my body had never looked better since I started chasing that stupid neon ball around the court.

“Let’s meet for coffee and breakfast instead.”

Resting the phone against my shoulder, I rubbed the sleep from my eyes. “Fine. That sounds better than tennis any day. I’m too tired today to actually do much else.”

“I heard Bear came over last night.”

“From whom?”

“I talked to Tommy last night.”

I grabbed the pillow from the other side of the bed and placed it over my face, muffling my voice. “You’re already gossiping about me?”

“No.”

“Hmph,” I mumbled. “Sounds like you were.”

“Stop being a baby. Get your ass up and meet me at the diner in an hour.”

“Fine,” I told her before kicking off the covers. “Bye.”

“Don’t keep me wait—”

I hung up the phone before she could keep talking. I hadn’t even had a cup of coffee, and the last thing I wanted to deal with was Maria and her questions.

After I rolled out of bed and made my way to the kitchen, I dialed Morgan while I waited for the coffee to brew. “Hey, baby,” I said when he answered.

“Morning, Ma. How are you today?”

“It’s too early to form an opinion. I’m just waiting for the coffee and thought I’d call to check in with you.”

“How did it go?”

“Fine,” I said, keeping my answer short.

“That’s all you have to say?”

I heard the annoyance in his tone. “We had a little dinner, talked, and then he left.”

“You made him dinner?” His voice cracked on the last word.

“It helped keep my mind occupied.”

“But, Ma,” he replied with a deeper tone.

“No buts, Morgan. It was a nice evening.”

“It was work.”

“I know, son. Trust me, Bear was a complete gentleman.”

“Doubtful,” Morgan mumbled into the phone.

“He even complimented my cooking.”

Morgan was silent for a moment. “Now I really don’t trust him.”

“You trusted Johnny and so did I, and where did that get us? Bear is a good man. He was kind to me last night.”

“I’m sure he was,” he grumbled.

“Stop with the shitty attitude, mister.”

“Just be careful.”

I laughed as I grabbed the half-filled pot and poured myself a cup. “You have nothing to worry about. I just hope I gave him enough information about Johnny to help.”

“I’m sure you did, Ma.”

“I feel responsible, Morgan. I mean, Johnny and I didn’t go steady, but I spent enough time with him that I should’ve seen the signs. I should’ve known he wasn’t a good guy.” I took a sip, savoring the warmth and caffeine.

“Don’t be ridiculous. He manipulated everyone. But that’s what I’m saying about Bear. You never really know someone until it’s too late. Don’t think he’s a good guy, Ma. He’s not.”

“Morgan DeLuca, I raised you to think better about people. He’s your friend and a friend of the Gallos. Don’t confuse your feelings for Johnny with Bear.”

“I’m just putting it out there.”

“Well, you’ve said it now. I’m a big girl and can make my own decisions.” I placed the mug on the counter and glanced at the clock. “I have to run. Maria is waiting for me to have breakfast. Have a good day, honey.”

“We’re not done talking about—”

I hung up on him. It was becoming a normal thing for me. When I didn’t like what someone was saying, I’d hang up the phone before they could finish. Although I loved Morgan dearly, I was a grown woman, and I didn’t have to justify my life to him. I’d made it this far without his “wise words” and worry.

By the time I walked into the diner, Maria was already seated and sipping on a cup of coffee. “Nice of you to finally make it,” she said with a lopsided smile. “Bear wear you out last night?”

I slid into the booth and set my purse at my side. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

She giggled like a teenage girl. “I see the way you look at him, and he’s always watching you.”

I waved my hand across the table in front of her. “You’re imagining things, Mar.”

“Am I?”

“Coffee, Fran?” Martha asked, holding an empty cup in her hand.

I smiled at her because I couldn’t have timed the interruption any better. “Yes, please.”

Maria and I stared at each other while Martha poured a full cup, but we didn’t speak. When the waitress was out of earshot, Maria started right where she left off.

“So did you at least kiss him?”

My sister-in-law was a nosy thing. She and Morgan could form their own little club. “No.” I rolled my eyes as I brought the mug to my lips.

She pursed her lips and raised her eyebrows. “Did you want to?”

“Maybe,” I said, drawing out my answer.

“He’s a bit rough around the edges, but he’s one of the nicest, most loyal men I’ve ever met.”

“Morgan says he’s trouble.”

“If Morgan had his way, you’d enter a convent and be celibate the rest of your life.”

“You got that right.”

Martha came back, pulling the pencil from behind her ear. “You ladies want the usual?”

“Yeah,” we answered together before Martha walked away.

“We’re really getting predictable, aren’t we?” I asked Maria.

“You can think you’re old, but I feel like I have a new lease on life. I plan to live with no apologies and no regrets.” I smiled and glanced out the window just as I heard the sound of a motorcycle. For a moment, I hoped it would be Bear barreling down the street, just to catch a glimpse of him. But it was a girl in short-shorts and flip-flops, with her long blond hair waving in the wind. “I figure I have twenty good years left in me. I don’t plan on spending them crocheting and watching soap operas.”

Maria rubbed her face with her fingertips, making tiny circles near her temples. “You just depressed the hell out of me.”

“Why?”

“Twenty years? I want to turn back the clock and go back to my youth. Time moves so fast now, it’ll pass in the blink of an eye.”

“I know, girl, I know. That’s why I don’t plan on spending it at home—what a waste that would be.”

She cupped the dingy cream mug in her hand and leaned back in the booth. “Do you have a plan?”

“No, but I know just where I’m going to start.” I rubbed my hands together with the biggest smile on my face.

“I feel there’s going to be a rocky road ahead.”

“Morgan forgets who the parent is in this situation. He’s not the boss of me. He’ll just have to deal.”

“Oh, this is going to be fun.” Maria laughed. “You know…” Her voice trailed off.

“What?”

“We should really get you a new wardrobe if you plan to whore it up.”

I glanced down at my favorite pink tracksuit and pulled at the collar. “Why?”

Maria’s eyes traveled around my top before connecting with my eyes. “You look like you live in an assisted-living community and are about to play bridge. You certainly don’t scream ‘fuck me’ in that ratty old thing.”

“But it’s comfortable.”

“So is an old shoe, but there’s a time when you need to replace it.”

“Fine,” I muttered. “When do you want to go shopping?”

“I’m not doing anything today,” she replied quickly with a partial grin.

“Let’s do this, then.” I shrugged. “I’m ready for a change.” I lied right through my teeth. Some change, I could deal with, but the way I dressed was more of a security blanket to stop the advances of men.

“Fuck, this is going to be epic!”

“When did you start using the word epic, Mar?”

“Izzy seems to like it, so I figured I’d try it out.”

I giggled, and Maria quickly followed. As soon as Martha delivered our breakfast, we ate quickly before heading to the mall.

Maria had my head spinning the way she shopped. She twirled around the department store, plucking pieces off the racks and holding them against me.

“What size are you?” she asked, with a top that looked more like a scrap of material pressed up against my chest.

“Medium, maybe.” I cringed because I hadn’t bought anything new in so long, I wasn’t quite sure.

“And your pants?”

“Medium too.”

Her eyebrows drew together as her eyes flicked to mine. “Real pants don’t come in medium. What’s your actual size?”

I glanced down at my track pants and pulled at the elastic. “Last time I checked, these were real pants.”

She laughed softly at first, but every time she looked at my face, her laughter grew louder. “I can’t.” She tried to catch her breath but couldn’t. “Those aren’t—”

“Can I help you?” a saleswoman asked after hearing Maria laughing like a hyena.

“We’re good,” I told her, already embarrassed enough by my sister-in-law. “Thank you, though.”

“Can I start a dressing room for you?”

With all the ugly tops piled high on my one arm, I couldn’t say no. “Yes, please. I don’t think she’s done yet.”

Maria cleared her throat to try to get rid of her giggles. “No, we’re far from done,” she said in a strangled voice.

I rolled my eyes and handed over the pile of “real” clothing, as Maria would’ve called it, before the saleswoman scurried away.

“Are you done laughing at me?”

She shook her head, walking away from me quickly, but I could still hear her laughter as I followed behind. She grabbed some pants in various sizes from the rack to cover the bases before we headed to the dressing room to try on the first round of items.

She stood outside the door, tapping her foot against the cold, white tile. “How does it look?” she asked.

My arms didn’t want to go into the tiny opening in the long-sleeved top she’d picked out. I kept sticking my hand through the cutout near the shoulder. “Great.”

“Let me see.”

When I finally got it on and looked in the mirror, it wasn’t as bad as I’d imagined. “Gimme a minute. I have to put on some pants.” I grabbed the size eight, figuring it was my best bet, and pulled them on easily. “Wrong size.”

“Which one?”

“Eight.”

“Too small?”

“Too big,” I admitted, feeling slightly ashamed that I didn’t know my right size. Track pants were easy. They always fit. Even if I gained a few pounds or lost a few, the elastic always made them right. I threw the eights to the floor and grabbed the size six from the hook. “What the hell are skinny jeans?”

“Just put them on,” she said in an annoyed tone.

“I’m doing this for you, so you better drop the attitude, Mar.”

“Shut up, Franny. This is for you and that poor, lonely vagina of yours. Put the jeans on, and get your tiny little ass out here.”

My vagina wasn’t lonely. The thieving bastard Johnny had taken care of it for some time. I just wasn’t a talker like Maria. I didn’t have to share my sexual experiences to validate that they actually happened.

Once I had the jeans on, I turned around and looked at my ass in the mirror. My bottom never looked so nice. The soft denim had a bit of stretch, making it easy to breathe, and it was comfortable. They looked more like leggings from the way they clung to my body. The outfit was pretty, but I looked younger—too young, in fact.

“I look stupid,” I whined, but secretly I liked the outfit. I didn’t look like a grandma anymore, but like a woman.

“I’m coming in if you don’t come out.”

Damn her. She was so damn pushy. Years of being with my brother had turned her into a bossy little thing. “Don’t!” I yelled before finally turning the handle and walking out for her inspection.

She clapped the moment she saw me. “You look hot,” she said with the widest smile. “Turn around.” She twirled her fingers in a circle. Instead of fighting her, I followed her command.

She whistled loudly when my ass faced her full on. “You can bounce a quarter off that thing.”

“Please,” I groaned in horror. “It’s aged too much for that shit.”

“You’re getting that outfit.”

“I don’t know. The top really isn’t me.”

She smacked my ass, causing me to jump. “That’s the point. We’re retiring the tracksuit. It’s too you, and that shit ain’t working.”

I turned, glaring at her for a second. “Fine.” I wanted the outfit, but I’d never admit it to her.

“Go try on the next one.”

I closed the door and turned around in front of the mirror, smiling as I did. I really did like the way the outfit hugged my body and showed my curves.

“We have to get you a new bra.”

“Why?” I called out when I started to pry the shirt from my body in the most ungraceful way.

“Your boobs shouldn’t be near your elbows.”

As I tossed the top to the floor with the size-eight jeans, I stared in the mirror and turned to the side. She was right. They were hanging low. The bra I had on was the same style I’d worn for years.

“They’re fine.”

“No, they’re not. Does it even have underwire?”

I grimaced at the thought of wearing something so constrictive. “Underwire?”

“You need a push-up bra to get those girls back toward your chin.”

“For the love of God,” I muttered, pushing up my tits to the spot they’d sat twenty years ago.

“Let’s find more clothes, and then we’re on to raising those babies a few inches. You need to show off that cleavage.”

In my head, I kept hearing Morgan. He was going to flip his lid the moment he saw me. The entire thing might be worth it just to freak him out.

But then I thought of Bear. What would he say when he saw the new me?