"Libby, I'm fine, really."
Jasmine leaned back in her chair and lifted her glass of sweet tea. She took a long drink of it, pleased to see that her hands weren't shaking. Her cousin, Liberty McCoy, was sitting across from her giving her the fisheye.
"You sure don't look fine to me."
"But I am. Look." She held out her hand, forcing it to remain steady. "Not even a tremor."
"You can't fool me, Jasmine Grey. I've known you too long. You always put on a good front."
Jasmine leaned forward. "I'm doing as good as I can, Libby, and that's the truth. I get better every day."
The women were sitting out on Jasmine's back patio, one of the few places in her new home that had any furniture. A soft breeze was blowing, tickling the leaves in the big oak tree whose branches hung over the patio. Two
