Handbag and Book with
Rochelle Weber
I bought my purse at K-Mart before it went out of business. It was designed by Jaclyn Smith and I love it because it has a lot of zippered compartments that allow me to organize the things I carry. The compartment in which I carry my cell phone is large enough to get it out easily when it rings. There’s a nice, large compartment where I can carry info about my books, one for my Kindle, one for meds/makeup, and most importantly, there’s a compartment I can use as a wallet with slots for IDs, credit cards, cash, coupons, a smaller zippered coin purse, etc.
It’s worn and the strap is getting shorter because it’s broken and I’ve had it fixed two or three times. I can’t find another purse like it, and I don’t know what I’ll do when I absolutely cannot use it anymore. I’ve looked and looked and not found anything that gives me the level of organization this purse does.
Kristen Jensen, a Navy veteran, tips the scale at a crippling three hundred pounds. In desperation she asks her VA therapist if she can go into addictions treatment with the guys where she meets Sean. With black hair, blue eyes, and a perfect body she figures the reason he’s speaking to her is that she’s the only other person in the room.
The Haystack told their lead singer, Sean Wesley, to get clean or get out. But none of the big-name clinics worked. Sean’s a Desert Storm vet, so they send him to a VA in the middle of nowhere. When he meets Kristen the first day, he thinks it’s tragic such a pretty girl’s trapped in a huge body. And her honesty, intelligence, and bravery are even more impressing. Sean’s drawn to Kristen, but she’s had decades to build layers of defense.
Sean Wesley went into the snack room to help himself to coffee and a roll. He’d probably gain weight while he was here without his personal trainer and weight room. He’d been a fat kid—always the last to be chosen for games, and stuck in right field when he did play. He’d been saved from a life of obesity by a growth spurt in his late teens, a judge who gave him a choice between jail and the Marines, and switching addictions from food to booze and then cocaine.
By rights, Sean shouldn’t be at a VA facility. Celebrities like him usually got sober at places like the Betty Ford clinic or Hazelden. Actually, he’d come from Betty Ford, but he’d still felt shaky so his manager, Don Nelson, had done his homework. Danville, Illinois, was in the middle of nowhere. The program was different, based on Rational Emotive Therapy, and Sean was a veteran. While he made too much money to be treated at the VA, there’s money and then there’s money. Sean had money—the kind that opens doors and breaks down barriers. The kind that makes even the Federal Government say, “We’ll see what we can do,” and then do it.
So here he was in the middle of a cornfield in bum-fuck Illinois at a shabby old VA hospital. An enormously obese woman came into the snack room interrupting his reverie, and Sean thought, That could’ve been me. What a shame—she’s so pretty.”
* * * *
Kristen noticed the table of goodies and the drop-dead-gorgeous man perusing them in the break room when she went in there to put her lunch in the refrigerator.
“Want one? I heard they send ’em over every morning. I guess they’re yesterday’s leftovers.”
That’s right. Offer sweets to the fat lady. She managed a tight grimace. “Thanks, but I’m here because I’m a food addict.” She held up her orange.
“I’m Sean.” He prob’ly wouldn’t give a fat chick like me a second look anywhere else. Still, what is it about men with black hair and blue eyes that makes me go all mushy?
“Hi.”
“I’ve heard of food addicts, but what makes ya call yourself that?”
“When my kids were little, I left them without a babysitter while I went to the store and wrote a rubber check for ice cream and M&Ms. I’d say I’ve been about as desperate for my fix as any addict or alcoholic.”
“Wow! Yeah, I guess so.” He held the door for her as they exited and then followed her into the Day Room.
Rochelle, I noticed your bag is compartmentalized, very organized. When you buy your next handbag, will you look for the same kind?
5 comments:
I love purses that keep me organized too, Rochelle. I bet, when the time comes, you could use a strap from another purse. Sew it in and keep the purse you love. Enjoyed your excerpt, as I have your previous books. I can't wait to read it. :-)
Hi, J.M.! So glad you could visit. I like a pocket or two for corralling my lipstick. Mostly I have small pouches for makeup, sunglasses, wallet. Makes for an easy transfer to a new bag (which we all know I do frequently)! Hugs.
It's horrible when you love a purse and can't find another like it. I've been fortunate to hit some resale shops and find ones I love. I will wish you all the best on your purse adventure!
Your cover is beautiful! Sounds like a winning story!
Hi, Melissa! So happy you could drop in on Rochelle's post. Sort like I've had a few... But there's always a new one that can be enticing whether purchased new or resale. Hugs!
That's my kind of handbag!!!
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