Page 77 of Lemon Pound Cake Club

Camille chuckled softly.

"I'm surprised it took this long."

She rested both hands around her teacup before speaking.

"People hear our name and think we're just a baking club."

Laughter moved through the room again.

"The truth is," she paused. "We're here because one woman needed another woman."

The table grew quiet.

"The first meeting took place more than twenty years ago. There was no clubhouse. There were no matching cake carriers. There weren't even this many women."

Her smile faded as she seemed to drift into thought.

"There was only a tiny kitchen. A homemade lemon pound cake. And a wife with nowhere else to go."

No one interrupted.

"She showed up terrified. She knew that if she went back home that night..." Camille paused. "She wasn't sure she'd survive."

Danielle lowered her eyes.

"Another woman invited her in. She didn't ask questions or judge. They sat at the kitchen table and cut two slices of cake. Between the first bite and the last, she realized she wasn't alone anymore."

The room stayed quiet.

"The recipe stayed, and so did the promise."

Camille looked around the table.

"If a woman walks through that front door asking for help, she leaves knowing she's family."

Danielle slowly set down her fork.

"When I came here," Her voice was barely more than a whisper. "I couldn't even say Marcus's name without shaking." She swallowed.

"I thought everyone would ask me why I stayed. Why I covered the bruises. Why I kept making excuses."

Miss Evelyn reached over and squeezed her hand.

"They didn't ask me any of that. They hugged me, they fed me, and they listened."

A tear slid down Danielle's cheek.

"They reminded me I deserved to live."

Simone smiled.

"This club saved my marriage."

Nia nodded.

Another woman across the table spoke quietly.

"It taught me that asking for help isn't weakness."