Linda tried to hide a nervous swallow. She wouldn’t lie to Marissa, not about anything. “At first, that habit of making everything purely sexual comes back. I have to tell myself to turn that off. It takes some effort. I’m getting better at having ordinary conversations with women who clearly think I’m attractive.”

Marissa was watching her face intently and yet Linda felt each additional word coming more easily. Marissa was listening and that was more than she had hoped for. “I’m finally in a space where I don’t take responsibility for how they feel about me. That’s their problem. It doesn’t threaten me. And sometimes . . .” She paused to smile and was relieved to receive a tentative one in return. “Sometimes, I am willing to consider that they are just being friendly. I can and will get over myself.”

“I still think,” Marissa said slowly, “that you are the strongest woman I’ve ever met.”

“I’m not that strong. I make mistakes, and I—”

“You’re here.”

“I’m ready . . . I don’t know how to explain this but thank you, I know what you’re trying to say. But I’m ready not to be defined by what I’ve survived. If I am strong, I want to prove it going forward.”

Marissa had a considering look on her face but then she nodded. “Okay.” A slow, easy smile spread across her face. “I don’t want to be a formerly helpless fat chick. I want to be who I am today and tomorrow—fit, healthy and ready for life.”

Linda was grinning as she gathered their plates and carried them to the sink. “Dish soap?”

“Just leave them. You cooked, I wash.”

“You should stay off your ankle.”

“It’s not that bad.” Marissa rose as if to prove her point and took a tentative step. “See?”

“Still, let me do this.”

She hesitated and retied her robe. “I meant to shower and get dressed before you got here but I had rather a lot of wine last night.”

“You look ravishing.” Linda nearly added, “and ravishable,” but she had gotten the Let’s Go Slow message loud and clear.

“Sweet talker.” Marissa limped into the bathroom and shut the door.

Linda had just finished filling the dish tub with hot soapy water when she heard a distinct thud from the bathroom, followed by a strongly uttered invective.

“Hey in there.” She hurried to the bathroom door, but found it locked. “Are you okay?”

“Yes. I just slipped. Dang it all.”

“Are you sure?” All Linda could hear now was running water. When there was no immediate reply, she turned the knob with all her strength and the old hardware gave.

“Oh—don’t come . . .” Marissa peeked out from under the shower curtains, her shoulders pink and cheeks to match. Her robe and T-shirt were strewn over the commode. “I’m okay. I just slipped getting in. I can shower sitting down. On my own.” She followed Linda’s gaze and the blush intensified.