The Hot Flash Club Strikes Again Read Online Free PDF Page B

thirty-seven.”
    “I’m so sorry.”
    “Anyway, my father’s seventy. He’s slowing down. Really, he should retire.”
    “Is that a possibility?”
    “Oh, absolutely. It’s high time he enjoyed life, kicked back, played golf, traveled, whatever.”
    “But then you’d have to have more responsibility for the company.”
    “That’s what Geraldine Sperry intended.”
    Shirley made some notes in her book. When she returned her attention to Carolyn, she said, “Why don’t you tell me why you’ve come to The Haven?”
    Carolyn closed her eyes. “I’ve been warned that my high blood pressure puts my pregnancy at a risk.”
    “You’re seeing a doctor, of course.”
    “Dr. Lewis. He’s the very best ob-gyn in the country.”
    “What does he suggest?”
    “I’m going on medication. But he wants me to try some lifestyle changes as well. He suggested I come here.” Carolyn rubbed her forehead. “He thinks I work too hard. I’ve told him that I
live
to work. He said if I want to continue this pregnancy, I’m going to have to change that, at least for the next few months.”
    Shirley asked, “What do you normally do to relax?”
    Carolyn snorted. “I’ve got too much to do to
relax.
”
    To Carolyn’s surprise, Shirley came across to sit on the sofa next to her. Softly, she touched Carolyn’s arm. “You’re under a lot of stress. But you’re a healthy young woman, and intelligent enough to understand there are things you can do to help yourself. Perhaps it would help if you think of relaxation as part of your work.”
    The sheer kindness in Shirley’s tone melted the imaginary rod that kept Carolyn’s backbone stiff. Longing swept through her—she wanted to slump against the other woman. She wanted Shirley Gold to wrap her arms around her, stroke her hair, and say, “There, there. Everything will be all right.”
    She wanted her mother.
    Tears stung her eyes. She sniffed them back.
    Briskly, Shirley continued, “I’m going to work up a program for you. Massage twice a week. A consultation with our nutritionist and our aromatherapist. An hour a week with our counselor—”
    “Do you think I’m
crazy
?”
    “Of course you’re not. But a counselor can help you find ways to deal with stress. Ways to calm yourself, and to believe in yourself. Also . . .” Shirley checked a list, then continued, “I’d like you to join our Friday-night quilting bee.”
    “But I can’t quilt!”
    “Perhaps it’s time you learned. Quilting is a wonderful activity, after all. It’s calming. And the group conversation is usually pretty fascinating. I think quilting bees were probably what women did a hundred years ago instead of seeing psychiatrists. If more women belonged to them today, fewer women would be on antidepressants.”
    “No quilting,” Carolyn said firmly.
    “Fine.” Shirley picked up her lavender notebook and flipped through it to a calendar. “I’d like to have you start right away. I think you should give yourself a health day. Could you come in Thursday, from noon until five?”
    “Are you kidding? Remember, I’ve got a company to run.”
    “Perhaps it’s time you learned to delegate.”
    “I know how to delegate! But no one can do my work as well as I can.”
    “How do you know? Why don’t you let someone try?”
    “I’ve told you. My father is—”
    “Older, yes, but can’t he carry the load for a while? He is your father, after all. He wants you to have a healthy baby.”
    “Why, yes, I guess he does.”
    “Tell him about your health concerns. He’ll want you to take care of yourself. Remember: it’s part of your duty, your job, to take care of yourself, so you can provide the company with its next president.”
    Carolyn mulled this over for a moment. Her father could probably keep Sperry muddling along.
    “All right. I’ll talk to him. I’ll try to fit my hours into whatever schedule you come up with for me.”
    “Wonderful. I’m sure The Haven will be good for