Joanne's POV
I know tonight is supposed to be a celebration- its Christmas Eve, for God's sakes- but I can't just sit back and watch Maureen play games with her life anymore. I know everyone thinks I'm too uptight, too serious, too lawyerly, but what Maureen's doing is serious. There's even a name for it. It's called anorexia.
Finally, there's a lull in the pandemonium. Roger and Mimi have even slipped away from the group. My chance to confront Maureen, because if I don't, I'm going to lose her. Literally.
I pull her aside.
"Maureen, honey…"
She looks at me, expectantly. I don't quite know where to start.
"This kind of dieting isn't safe. If you really want to lose weight, you ought to eat about six small meals a day. That keeps your metabolism going and it's much healthier than skipping meals…"
By the blank look she's giving me, I can tell that pure logic isn't doing the trick. Which truly sucks, because logic is the one thing that's always worked for me in the past. I guess that's just Maureen for you. I decide to switch tacks.
"I want to know why you won't eat. You're scaring me, sweetie. What you're doing, it isn't safe. You have an eating disorder, Maureen. You need to get help before you really get sick. People can die from not eating. I can help you find a therapist, if you want…"
Still the blank look. It's painfully subtle, but I can tell she's struggling to hide some emotion. Whatever it is, she masks it well. It's unnerving, what little care she seems to have about my serious remarks, what little care she has for her own wellbeing.
Finally, she speaks.
"Are we packed?"
I can't do this anymore.
"Yes, and by next week, I want you to be." I turn to leave.
"Pookie?" She asks. Quietly. Heartbreakingly.
But I don't turn around.