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Natalie Moore is about to lose what little cleavage she had.
She'll shave her head, leave her church, fall for a man in scrubs, learn to tap, and flash a roomful of women.
Natalie needs to know with or without her breasts she is more than the sum of her parts.
Chapter One
I'm obsessed with breasts.
Not in the lesbian sense. I'm a card-carrying heterosexual woman with a serious crush on Johnny Depp. And I never really noticed them before. Breasts, I mean. They were just a fact of life. Like day and night. Sun and rain. God. And Krispy Kremes.
But now that I'm about to lose mine, I can't stop staring at them everywhere I go. The mall. Work. Church. The gym. Even my parents' house. (Sorry, Mom.)
Large ones, small ones, black ones, white ones, perky, even sagging--to me, they're all a thing of beauty.
My name is Natalie. I'm twenty-seven years old. And I have breast cancer.
Oh yeah. And I'm single. There goes my dating life down the toilet.
I never dreamed I'd get breast cancer. That was for older women. Right? I mean, you can't even get a routine mammogram until you're forty. There's gotta be a reason for that.
Right?
...
I discovered the lump by accident.
Wish I could say it was during my regular self-exams, which I learned how to do during a women's health class in college. But my monthly self-exams were more irregular than regular. And I never could tell one lump from another anyway. They all felt the same to me. Squishy.
Like more than half the women on the planet--including my sixty-seven-year-old mother, I had fibrocystic breasts. Lumpy, in other words. But to my knowledge, there's no history of breast cancer in our family, so I really wasn't worried when I felt the lump while trying on a gel bra at Victoria's Secret.
My best friend, Merritt, and I were goofing around one Saturday at the mall, wondering how we'd look if we were both a little bigger in the boob department.
Although I needed more help than she did.
We each tried on one of those padded gel and water bras like they use in Hollywood all the time. And Merritt, who'd grabbed a black double-D, was vamping for the dressing-room mirror, sucking in her cheeks, making her lips all pouty, and trying to look appropriately sexy as she admired her now-bountiful cleavage beneath her straining white poet's blouse.
I shook my head. "Too Anna Nicole Smith."
She swung her tomato-red (this week) mane and examined her double-basketball profile. "But they helped her marry a millionaire. Who knows? Maybe they'll do the same for me."
"Right. And then you'd have to sleep with a guy who's as old as your grandfather. Correction, great-grandfather."
We scrunched up horrified faces. "Eew!"
Faster than a Hollywood marriage, Merritt whipped that bad boy off from beneath her blouse and dropped it on the reject pile. Then she glanced at me and did a double take. "Hey, whaddya know? You've got boobs!"
"I know! Can you believe it?" I turned sideways and scrutinized my B-cup self. "The double-fried-egg girl finally has curves."
"You've always had curves. They're just small." She stared at my basic black T-shirt as I pirouetted in front of the mirror. "But, honey, those double fried eggs are now a couple of blueberry muffins. You have to buy that miracle-worker bra."
"Nope." I took a last regretful look at my curvy front. "With me, what you see is what you get."
"I know. I know. Little Ms. Candid and Up-front. But what would it hurt to be a little mysterious every now and then?" She twirled in her gauzy Indian broomstick skirt over leggings, lowered her head, and made her eyes all exotic and inscrutable. "Men like that in a woman."
"Well, they're not going to get it from me. I wouldn't know how to even begin to be mysterious." I turned my back and unhooked the lacy pink bra while Merritt busied herself collecting all the lingerie we'd tried on. As I lowered the straps off my shoulders, my hand grazed my left breast and I felt something.
A lump. Not squishy.
Time to cut down on my caffeine intake. I'd read somewhere that too much caffeine can increase fibrocystic lumps.
"Hey, heads up!" I tossed the bra over my shoulder to join the others on the reject pile.
...
Pushing open the door of her midtown Victorian apartment half an hour later, Merritt sang out, "Honey, I'm home!"
"Me, too, honey," I echoed, even though I didn't live there.
Jillian raised her shaped-and-waxed eyebrows over her cappuccino. "So what'd you buy?"
"A T-shirt." I raised my lone shopping bag high. "It's this great coral color. And only $9.99 at Target."
She rolled her eyes. "Nat, one of these days you've got to branch out from your discount stores." She glanced at my jeans. "And your jeans and T-shirt uniform."
"You're such a snob, Jilly." I gave her an affectionate grin. "Besides, I do so branch out. At work I wear khakis or dress pants and the occasional skirt. And I have a tailored jacket for meetings."
"Whoa. Really pushing the fashion envelope there."
Merritt was trying to skulk behind me in an evasive maneuver. But Jillian spotted her.
"Not so fast, roomie. Show me what you got for your date tonight."
My best friend exchanged a resigned look with me, shrugged her shoulders, and lifted her hands, empty palms up. "Nada."
"You two! What am I going to do with you?" Jillian slid her slim, designer-clad self off the retro kitchen bar stool and advanced toward us. "How do you expect to get a guy if you don't even make a little bit of an effort?"
"Uh, have you forgotten? I've already got a guy." I popped an Altoid into my mouth, enjoying that heady peppermint rush. "And Jack doesn't seem to have any complaints about my casual style."
"That's right," Merritt said. "And you guys have been together--what? Two months now?"
I thought back to our first date and did some mental calculations. "One month and seventeen days. But who's counting?"
"Whoa, I'm impressed, math girl. You're usually not good with numbers." Merritt turned a dazzling smile on Jillian. "And speaking of numbers, I'm not even thirty yet. You know what they say--forty is the new thirty, which goes to follow that thirty must be the new twenty, which means I'm really only eighteen. Besides . . ." She waved her hand airily. "If a guy's hung up by how I dress, he's not for me."
"At least tell me you'll change out of those paint-spattered leggings." Jillian raised a French-manicured hand to her brow, her sparkling new solitaire winking in the light, and shook her head in dismay. "I can't believe you went out in public like that."
Jillian's the fashionista in our trio of friends. A personal shopper at Nordstrom, she lives, breathes, and eats what's in and what's out, what works and what doesn't in the world of fashion.
Merritt and I, not so much.
I'm more a Target and Old Navy girl myself. In fact, the first time Jillian said "Jimmy Choo," I said "Gesundheit." But I'm willing to spend a little more money on a fabulous accessory to pull a whole outfit together, like a brooch or a designer belt. I might be casual, and I might be thrifty (Jillian has another word for it), but I do have flair if I say so myself.
And Merritt? Well, Merritt's an artist, so she has this funky, bohemian, retro, thrift-store vibe goin' on. She gravitates toward long, flowy skirts over tights or leggings and boots (combat or cowboy), often paired with a men's jacket over a billowing blouse or tank top. She's a modern-day Annie Hall. (Or Mary Kate Olsen with a little more padding. But don't ever tell her I said so.)
"I can't help it that someone in this room"--Merritt wriggled her eyebrows at me--"woke me up at the crack of dawn. Since I got dressed in my sleep and without benefit of caffeine, I just threw on the closest thing."
"Ten o'clock is not the crack of dawn, Batgirl. Maybe it's time to leave your cave and enter the sunshine." I beckoned to her. "Don't be afraid. Come to the light. Come to the light."
"I'll light you." Merritt grabbed an Art Deco lamp from the end table and brandished it at me.
"Watch out!" Jillian yelped.
Too late. The lamp cord caught on a can of Diet Pepsi and tipped it over onto the cream-colored carpet.
Jillian yanked some paper towels from the kitchen and raced to mop up the spill. "How many times have I asked you not to leave your half-full cans of soda lying around?"
"Sorry." Merritt grabbed the can of spot remover she kept in the end-table cabinet, and the two of them tag-teamed to clean up the mess.
"Good work, guys." I strode to the table. "But if I might make a humble suggestion? If you move the lamp to the back of the table like so"--I pushed the lamp to the back corner and angled it--"that won't happen again." I stood back and surveyed the table with a critical eye, then adjusted the coasters and angled the magazines as well. "There."
Merritt smirked. "Well, thank you, Ms. Home Makeover."
Jillian shook her head. "Actually, it looks a lot better. You have a great eye, Nat."
"And you can cook," Merritt added. "If Jack doesn't marry you, maybe I will."
I stuck out my tongue at her and looked at my watch. "Whoops, gotta go." I winked at Merritt. "Have fun on your date tonight. Call me later."
...
Merritt, Jillian, and I have been friends since the eighth grade. We bonded in girl-power solidarity when Doug Anderson, the captain of the junior varsity football team, slipped me a note in art class that said, "What color undershirt are you wearing today?" As my flat-chested, undeveloped self cringed and turned every shade of red, Doug and several of his jock pals sniggered. Merritt, who sat next to me and whose hair was then a two-toned blue, saw the note. She didn't say anything. But a few minutes later, she accidentally tipped a container of thinned-out orange acrylic paint into my tormentor's lap.
"Hey!" Doug jumped up as the class exploded in laughter....
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Most Helpful Customer Reviews
11 of 11 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
A Life Redefined,
This review is from: Reconstructing Natalie (Women of Faith Fiction) (2006 Novel of the Year) (Paperback)
Natalie is about to lose more than her glass slipper and she hasn't even been invited to the ball. At twenty-seven she is still a dreamy hopeful girl longing for romance and thinking about dating the man of her dreams. That is until she discovers a lump in her breast while trying on a bra at Victoria's Secret.
Hugh Jackman once said that if you back down from a fear, the ghost of that fear never goes away. He also happens to be one of the men Natalie has a crush on. With wide ranging interests in popular culture, Natalie has her list of men she would like to date and on the day she realizes she might have breast cancer, it seems her dreams are about to be replaced by fear. Natalie then embarks on a fight for her life as she encounters the challenges of chemo, blessings of support meetings and unexpected crushes on her male chemo nurse. While she is developing an aversion to chocolate and Pop Tarts, she learns that the road to healing will take every ounce of her strength. With a support team and loving best friends, Natalie's life reveals what it is truly like to encounter cancer and fight for the life you have always imagined. While having cancer is not funny, Laura Jensen Walker embraces her gift as a writer and creates engaging moments of love, laughter and friendship. The positive spirit throughout is encouraging and beautiful. Laura Jensen Walker, a cancer survivor, draws on her own experiences to create a captivating and warm story of a woman who decides to look fear in the face and take on her future with hope and determination. Laura's own love of travel and spending time with her girlfriends is lovingly woven into the story. If you have read her books, you will recognize her love of commenting on popular culture, especially movies. Laura has a unique gift for writing about the challenge of facing cancer and in this book she reaches out to women who will welcome the connection and understanding Natalie can provide. ~The Rebecca Review
6 of 6 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
Women of Faith Novel of the Year,
By
This review is from: Reconstructing Natalie (Women of Faith Fiction) (2006 Novel of the Year) (Paperback)
RECONSTRUCTING NATALIE by Laura Jensen Walker
From the back cover: "You think you're self-conscious about YOUR lack of cleavage?!" You wouldn't think the words "breast cancer" and "hilarity" belonged in the same book, much less the same sentence, but chick lit author and breast cancer survivor Laura Jensen Walker knows how to address painful topics with a wink and a smile. Reconstructing Natalie is the story of a woman whose breast cancer is the catalyst for some serious changes--not the least of which is her cup size! Holding tight to her old friends while reaching out to new ones, Natalie must redefine herself and her faith on new terms. Camy here: This is a powerful book. I totally understand why this was chosen as the Women of Faith Novel of the Year. The humor lifts it above the pain and suffering of cancer patients to the hope of survival, the joy of living, and the victory of a new life. This book has given me insight into breast cancer patients that I've never experienced in just a non-fiction book. I was deep in Natalie's head, fighting with her to not be overwhelmed by depression and bitterness. Her smart mouth and quirky outlook on life is sharp and brilliant, while her moments of sadness are poignant and strong. The small moments of human drama spoke volumes about the kinds of things she faced. Natalie's friends and family are supportive without being cheesy or goody-goody. It's not just about Natalie and her cancer--it's also about how it affects the people around her, both the ones close to her and her acquaintances. At times, Natalie's banter with her girlfriends get a little corny, but their unflagging encouragement shows how much Natalie needs them in order to get through her ordeal. As a reader, I'm given a glimpse into both stalwart friends and also unsupportive friends, and the effect on a struggling patient. The subplots involving Natalie's fellow support group friends are vibrant and touching. They truly complete Natalie's story, by adding social nuances and different threads of emotions. The energetic humor makes this novel so rich and bright. It focuses on the gift of life, the joy of God's Spirit, His shining love. It doesn't paint a rose-colored world--pain and betrayal is there in all its ugliness--but it shows people rising above with the strength of Christ, the brilliance of His love. I don't know if a teen would catch all the emotional nuances, but it's an eye-opening look into a cancer patient. Young and older women alike, from all walks of life, will be truly blessed by this book.
2 of 2 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
Captivating page-turner,
This review is from: Reconstructing Natalie (Women of Faith Fiction) (2006 Novel of the Year) (Paperback)
Twenty-seven year-old Natalie Moore seemed to have it all: a good-paying job, a handsome boyfriend, a great relationship with her parents, a solid church, two wonderful best friends, and a homey cottage all to herself (even if it was in her parents' backyard). All this changed after Natalie accidentally discovered a small lump on her left breast. Learning the lump is cancerous, Natalie's life changes drastically as she faces the painful reality of life with cancer. The support of family, friends, and fellow breast cancer warriors leads Natalie to take risks and uncover new loves and passions in her life.
Laura Jensen Walker, a breast cancer survivor herself, takes readers through Natalie's daily battle emotionally, physically, and spiritually against this life-altering disease in Reconstructing Natalie. Told from Natalie's perspective, the reader gains a sense of what it's really like living with breast cancer. Walker portrays Natalie in a way that readers can sympathize with her, feeling her pain, frustration, joy, and sorrow throughout her cancer journey. In order to prevent the cancer from spreading, Natalie decides to have a bilateral mastectomy followed by reconstructive surgery and chemotherapy. For a currently-single woman already sensitive about her breasts, Natalie wonders if she'll ever have a love life again once she becomes breast-less and bald. With the constant love and support of those around her, especially her childhood friend Andy, Natalie learns that her worth does not depend on her breasts or any of her physical attributes. Natalie is a strong character with multiple dimensions and a sense of humor. As the narrator, she is honest and genuine about her emotions in every situation. Some Christians might be slightly offended when, after her diagnosis, Natalie decides against telling a girl at her office that she's showing too much cleavage by wearing low-neck shirt. Natalie thought, She might as well enjoy her [...] while she can. This kind of reaction from a woman who once scolded this same office assistant for dressing immodestly reveals the candid and real thoughts of a woman just diagnosed with breast cancer. Even a Christian woman is still a woman who is influenced by society's standards of beauty. She's not immune to having these kinds of thoughts. Natalie's not perfect by any means, which humanizes her and makes her someone all women can relate to. Jensen's descriptions and characterization of minor characters such as Jillian, Merritt, Andy, and Josh are detailed and consistent. The reader feels as though she really knows these characters and their personalities. At times, it seems as though Jensen gives excessive detail to character development. In one scene, she is showing the obsession Natalie, Jillian, and Merritt have with the TV show Friends. She has the three women arguing over what happened in an episode for quite some time, giving details specific to the show that aren't necessary for the novel or for character development. Jensen also devotes a portion of the book solely to Natalie's cancer journal entries. While it's beneficial to read some of Natalie's entries, the same thing happens in every entry, which makes that section less interesting to read. The romantic connection between Andy and Natalie unfolds gradually, but becomes slightly unrealistic when they confess their love to one another and the next minute Andy's asking for Natalie's hand in marriage. This could seem possible considering their lifelong friendship, but as a reader, I didn't expect the engagement to come so soon. There aren't any scenes of Natalie and Andy's wedding either, so that's slightly disappointing for those hopeless romantics out there. This novel is a captivating page-turner, bringing you into the life and reality of a breast cancer survivor. The emotions and thoughts of the narrator are real, making it so you can't help but root for Natalie as she battles the disease. If you are a woman looking to relate to a genuine female character in a novel that touches all emotions, culminating into a story of hope, then this novel is for you. - Christy Wong, Christian Book Previews.com
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