Lucy sat still while the producers ran an old video montage of the events of a decade ago-the bedsheet unfurled with the painted words, Thank You, Lucky Lucy Cunningham-Slump Buster; her father yelling at reporters from his front stoop; Lucy hounded by ESPN cameras as she walked between classes; the dean announcing that the coach, athletic director, and assistant athletic director had been fired and four athletes expelled.

John Weaver asked her how it felt to see that.

Lucy said, “Like it happened to another person.”

As Brad cleared his throat and started to speak, Lucy was amazed at how loose her body felt, how relaxed and comfortable she was at this moment of truth. Her heart beat quietly. Her hands lay still in her lap. She stayed focused.

She wondered briefly if this meant she’d had a mental breakdown, but it didn’t feel like illness. It felt like health. It felt like strength. It felt damn good.

Brad began to read from a prepared statement, telling Lucy and the entire Miami-Dade TV-viewing area that he’d always been ashamed of his behavior that day and that his life since then had been a series of relationship and job failures, including a struggle with alcohol.

“Oh my God,” Lucy whispered, searching out Doris in the second row. She shrugged and gave her a sympathetic smile and Lucy went back to listening to Brad Zirkle explain how his twelve-step recovery required that he apologize to Lucy for his behavior.

Is there nothing people won’t do on television?

“I take full responsibility for what happened. It was wrong and cruel, and I am so sorry, Lucy. You did not deserve to be treated so badly.”

Suddenly the camera zoomed in tight on Lucy’s face, and Carolina and John looked at her expectantly and Lucy realized this was her chance, her opportunity for the ultimate words of revenge.

What came out of her mouth instead was a huge sigh of relief.

“Thank you for your apology, Brad,” she said. “You hurt me a lot, and I’m sad to hear that you suffered, too.”

Brad fell back into his chair like he’d been pushed.

Lucy went on. “Someone once told me that at the end of the day, the most important thing is that you make the most of what God gave you. I guess you and I are both trying to do that now. Everybody deserves a second chance.”

“Thank you, Lucy,” Brad said.

“But don’t you dare ever hurt anyone like that again.”

“I won’t.” Brad wiped a tear from his cheek.

Carolina cried next. Then Lucy’s mom broke down in her chair at the back of the set, followed by Mary Fran and Gia and most of the females in the studio audience, and that’s when Lucy thought for sure she heard Stephan Sherrod’s voice shout out something about being a dead man.

After the next commercial break, Theo led Lucy to the scale. She started laughing with joy before he could even settle on the number, which turned out to be 148, a loss of six pounds for the month.

Lucy had no idea how much a decade of rage and shame weighed, but she knew she’d unloaded a few of those pounds just moments ago, when she’d forgiven Brad Zirkle.

November and December

Journal Entry Nov 19

Breakfast: 1 banana; 3/4 c Kashi; 1 c plain yogurt; decaf with skim milk

Lunch: 3 oz grilled chicken; 2 rye flat breads; 2 c salad with a whole cucumber; 2 tbsp oil and vinegar

Dinner: 3 oz grilled salmon; 1 julienned zucchini; 1/2 c brown rice

Snack: Another banana

Affirmation for Today:

Only three weeks of celibacy left. Soon I will be fucking Theo’s brains out on a regular basis and can stop subconsciously selecting phallic-shaped fruits and vegetables.

Lucy figured this was the worst-case scenario: in a few weeks’ time, she would step up on that medical scale on the set of WakeUp Miami and not have lost another pound. That would still mean she was eighty-two pounds and forty-one inches smaller, eighty-two thousand dollars richer (at least on paper), and on her way with her sister to a luxury spa in Jamaica for a week of pampering.

As far as worst-case scenarios went, that wasn’t so bad.

“Hey, Lucy? Is there anything else that needs to go?” Veronica poked her head into Lucy’s open office door and blew a wayward strand of hair out of her face. She looked cute in a pair of overalls and flip-flops, and she’d been a real trouper, helping with everything that needed to be done in order for them to be in the new office by the end of the week.

Lucy took one last look around at the pale yellow walls and sighed. “That’s pretty much it, I guess. How about Maria and Barry?”

“Barry’s unhooking his computer now. Maria’s already over there working with the phone people.”

“Did the detective call with any news this morning?”

Veronica made her fish face. “Not since yesterday. They still think our fearless leader went AWOL and took Lola DiPaolo with him.”

Lucy shook her head. She didn’t Like leaving Stephan like this, but how were you supposed to give your two-week notice to an invisible man? All of them had left letters of resignation on Stephan’s desk, should he ever show up to read them.

Though dozens of audience members had confirmed that Stephan loudly proclaimed that he was a dead man before running from the TV studio-the last time anyone saw him-Miami Police detectives were operating on the theory that he’d not met with foul play but flown the coop for financial reasons. The IRS was snooping around Sherrod amp; Thorns right along with the detectives.

Police also believed that Stephan and Lola had some sort of relationship. Lucy could only imagine the profound nature of their pillow talk.

Lucy took one last look around her little office and smiled-she was moving up in the world. Her new suite was in a high-rise on Biscayne with a view of the bay. The lease was hefty, but she didn’t think that would be a problem. Every one of Stephan’s longtime clients had happily jumped ship with her. The publicity she’d received in the last month had also helped her close deals for seven significant new accounts, including the Lucky Chef gourmet food chain Barry had been courting.

Slump Buster Advertising was officially open for business.

“What’re your plans for lunch, Lucy?”

Lucy turned to answer Veronica when her lunch plans-all her plans, really-suddenly materialized in the doorway.

“Hey, Cunningham.”

Theo leaned up against the door frame in a pair of jeans, a ribbed polo shirt, and sneakers. He’d let his hair grow in the last couple months, and Lucy thought it suited him. He looked less like Malibu Ken and more like himself-funny, warm, sexy, and hers. All hers.

She felt the smile as it spread across her face. When she looked at Theo these days, she was astounded at the depth of her love for him, her trust in him, and how, with his help, she was living in hope for her future instead of fear of her past.

“Does Japanese sound OK to you?”

“Delish.”

“So is this the end of an era?” Theo glanced around the empty office.

“Thank God,” Veronica said, popping her gum. “Let’s get out of here before he comes back.”

Theo held Lucy’s hand as they walked through the downtown lunch crowd. He kept shooting her sideways glances and smiling. But he was unusually quiet.

“You look like you got something to tell me.”

“Nope.” He squeezed her hand harder. “But I like your shoes. You’ve got the cutest little toes.”

Lucy laughed. “Yeah, and now I can look down and see them.”

“Hey, Lucy! Way to go!” A threesome of young businessmen gave her the thumbs-up as they walked by. One of them whistled. Lucy felt herself blush. It was safe to say that being on the receiving end of whistles, hoots, catcalls, and kissy noises had been a fairly recent development and that she loved every minute of it.