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It was a small classroom, ordinary. A green chalkboard showed the eraser-swiped remnants of a math equation. In the middle of the room sat a semicircle of folding metal chairs; some of them were empty; others held nervous-looking women. Off to the left, a white-clothed table held a coffeemaker and a tray of baked goods.
"Dont be shy. Come on in. "
Startled, Elizabeth spun around and found herself nose-to-nose with a stunningly beautiful woman wearing a scarlet suit. A name tag on her lapel read: sarah taylor.
"Im Sarah," the woman said, smiling brightly. "Welcome to the meeting. "
Elizabeth couldnt manage a smile. "Im Elizabeth. "
Sarah touched her shoulder, gave her a reassuring squeeze. "Everyones nervous at first. " She turned to the other women. "Charlotte, why dont you welcome our newest member?"
Elizabeth panicked. She wasnt really a member, was she?
Charlotte--a large woman wearing black velour sweats and green rubber gardening clogs--was already moving toward her. "Hey," Charlotte said simply. "Welcome to the group. Come on in. " She took hold of Elizabeths elbow and guided her toward the circle of chairs.
Elizabeth sat down.
Beside her was a tiny, bright-eyed young woman dressed in a denim jumpsuit and scuffed cowboy boots. "Im Joey," she said, smiling brightly. "My husband left me to join a rock band. He plays the harmonica. Can you believe it?" She laughed. "They call themselves Dog Boys. I call em Dog Shits, but not in front of the kids. "
Elizabeth nodded stiffly. Joey kept talking, smiling all the while. All around the circle, women chatted with one another about ordinary things. Kids school schedules, loser ex-husbands, dead-end jobs, and child-support checks. The voices blended into a steady, blurring drone. More women drifted into the room, took seats in the semicircle. Some joined in the conversation. Others, like Elizabeth, sat quietly.
Finally, Sarah closed the door and took a seat in the middle of the group. "Welcome, ladies. Its nice to see so many new faces tonight. This is the Womens Passion Support Group. " She smiled. "Dont worry, were not as erotic as that sounds. "
Laughter followed that remark, some of it nervous.
"Our objective here is to help each other. Simple Simon. We have something in common, and that something is a sense of loss. Weve reached a certain age and discovered that weve misplaced a vital part of ourselves. For lack of a better word, I call the missing element passion. Our goal is simply to share our feelings with women who understand. Together we can be strong. To begin, lets go around the circle and share one dream each. " She turned to the woman seated beside her. "Youve been here before, Mina. Why dont you begin?"
Mina, a plump, red-haired older woman dressed in a flowery, polyester housedress, seemed entirely at ease. "I started coming to these meetings about six months ago, when my husband--Bill--was diagnosed with Alzheimers. " She shook her head, made a tsking sound. "Its a horrible thing, losing someone you love by inches. . . . Anyway, I promised my daughter that Id come to the meetings. I couldnt imagine finding passion, but now, Im taking driving lessons. It doesnt sound like much to you young gals, but its given me a new freedom. Next week Ill be going in for my final test. Hopefully Ill drive here on my own next time. "
The group applauded, and Mina giggled.
When the room quieted, the next woman began to speak. "My name is Fran. My husband ran off with his secretary. His male secretary. The only passion I have lately seems to center around buying a handgun. Unfortunately, I cant decide which one of us to shoot. " She smiled nervously. "That was a joke. "
Sarah leaned forward. "What do you love doing, Fran?"
"I loved being a wife. " She paused, shrugged. "My friends act like I have a terminal disease. This is the first time Ive left the house in weeks. My divorce attorney recommended it, but I dont see how you can help. "
"We can all relate to that," Joey said. There was a murmur of assent.
"Think about it, Fran," Sarah said. "What would you do if you knew you couldnt fail? Answer fast. One word. Dont censor yourself. "
"Sing. " Fran looked surprised by her answer. "I used to sing. "
"I belong to a womens choir," Mina said. "We sing at local nursing homes and hospitals. Were always looking for new members. "
"Oh, I didnt mean to imply that I was a good singer. "
Mina chuckled. "We sing to people who wear hearing aids. Really, join us. We have a lot of fun. "
Fran looked uncertain. "Ill think about it. "
Several women started talking at once. Many of them, it seemed, had reached for unexpected things, too. Flying, sky-diving, marathon running. The consensus was that anything could be a start.
"Thats what were all about," Sarah said. "Finding your passion isnt just about careers and money. Its about finding your authentic self. The one youve buried beneath other peoples needs. Fran, you might be amazed at how much difference a little thing like joining a choir can make. " She nodded to the woman beside Fran.
The woman moved her fingers nervously, rubbed her hands together. She was tall and thin, dressed all in black; maybe forty years old. Shed bleached her hair the color of straw; her roots were jet black. "Im Kim. When my shit-head husband left me for a woman with braces, I started drinking. Believe me, it became a passion. Ive been sober now for three months, but Im thirsty all the time. I have no idea how to replace booze. My mom heard about this group on television and made me promise to come, so here I am. "
"What do you do in your spare time?" Sarah asked.
