Agreeing silently that a plan of four thirty-minute walks a week qualified as “modest,” Marissa glanced over the menu program that the perky size-five Emelie had given her. “So the program is two of your TIO shakes a day, two of the special energy and nutrition bars and one of the pre-made meals.”

Emelie’s smile was blinding. “That’s the weight loss program, yes, you’ve got it perfectly. But when you get to stage three where you want to stop losing weight, there’s a different maintenance plan. You could be at your goal weight in a matter of months.”

The idea that she would ever not be trying to lose weight seemed outlandish. She remembered Bianca’s story about the magic fat burning pills—it was another pipe dream she wanted to believe. She wasn’t here thinking the program was an instant cure. She wanted to be absolutely certain of what she was eating, that was all. “Oh, I don’t think so. But it’s nice to imagine it.”

Emelie leaned forward as if to share a secret she didn’t tell just anybody. “You don’t have to exercise. It’s not crucial.”

Marissa knew she’d keep up her work at the gym but she’d do less of it if she was also carefully watching her calories. “I do work out.”

“Oh, of course you do. You know, instead of the regular Take It Off shakes, you might want to go with the premium. Extra protein and potassium since you do work out. Working out is good for you, I’m sure.”

Marissa wrote a check for her enrollment and the first two weeks of food. Poorer, and not entirely encouraged, she took it all home.

It had been seven weeks since the shipwreck. Six weeks since she’d said good-bye to Linda. There were no messages, no postcards.

Likewise, there was no communication from her mother. She wondered if she should be the one to break the impasse. She’d done nothing wrong—okay, maybe been a little ungracious and abrupt—so why was she supposed to be the one who made nice? It was a bit of a relief not to spend each day dreading a phone call.

Her Saturday night, empty of a beau, loomed long and lonely. Wasn’t that the most common reason given by new clients? That they were alone on Saturday night and decided to give Finders Keepers a try? She and Ocky had agreed not to use the FK services for themselves so they wouldn’t have to admit they’d failed, should that happen. What if Linda never got in touch? Maybe she should at least profile herself so she could study the profile of her ideal partner? What if it wasn’t Linda? What if it wasn’t Ocky either? Well, it wouldn’t be Ocky—Ocky didn’t and wouldn’t ever care for her back, not sexually. And, dang it all, after a great night of sex with Linda there was no way she was accepting something less.

Dear Linda,

I didn’t tell you about Octavia—not the whole truth anyway. Until you turned around on the lifeboat and talked to me like I had a brain and a body, I was happy enough to have a crush on Ocky. I was alone on Saturday nights because I chose to be. Now I see it wasn’t a choice I made, but one made by so many others who saw only a brain in me, and wanted bodies that were anything but like mine. Until you, I didn’t know what it was like to be wanted.You made a miracle for me, and I don’t know if I will ever see you again. I want to see you again. I want so much more than merely seeing.