{"product_id":"good-luck-with-that-isbn-9780451489395","title":"Good Luck with That","description":"\u003cb\u003eOne of Purewow’s “Best Beach Reads of Summer 2018”\u003cbr\u003eWinner for Best Book of 2018 of the Fresh Fiction Awards!\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author Kristan Higgins is beloved for her heartfelt novels filled with humor and wisdom. Now, she tackles an issue every woman deals with: body image and self-acceptance.\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eEmerson, Georgia, and Marley have been best friends ever since they met at a weight-loss camp as teens. When Emerson tragically passes away, she leaves one final wish for her best friends: to conquer the fears they still carry as adults.  \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFor each of them, that means something different. For Marley, it's coming to terms with the survivor's guilt she's carried around since her twin sister's death, which has left her blind to the real chance for romance in her life. For Georgia, it's about learning to stop trying to live up to her mother's and brother's ridiculous standards, and learning to accept the love her ex-husband has tried to give her. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBut as Marley and Georgia grow stronger, the real meaning of Emerson's dying wish becomes truly clear: more than anything, she wanted her friends to love themselves. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eA novel of compassion and insight, \u003ci\u003eGood Luck With That\u003c\/i\u003e tells the story of two women who learn to embrace themselves just the way they are.\u003cb\u003ePraise for \u003ci\u003eGood Luck with That\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“\u003ci\u003eGood Luck With That \u003c\/i\u003eis a powerful testament to the hard work of self-love...a paean to how it’s never too early (or too late) to be a little kinder to yourself, an inspiring meditation on how to embrace the supportive individuals in your life and stand up to the toxic ones, and a love story....[\u003ci\u003eGood Luck With That\u003c\/i\u003e is] the story of learning to love oneself, and living a life that leads with that love, in all its joy, sorrow, failure, and triumph.”—\u003ci\u003eEntertainment Weekly\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Higgins writes with her trademark heart, humor, and emotion, addressing the serious and somber subject of body image…Highly recommended.”—\u003ci\u003eLibrary Journal\u003c\/i\u003e (starred review)\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“[A] heartbreakingly gorgeous story of female friendship and what it takes to feel comfortable in one’s own skin.”—\u003ci\u003eBooklist\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Higgins’ astute, perceptive eye to the best and worst of human nature enhances the poignancy of a sensitive topic, which she navigates with humor and grace.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003c\/b\u003e\u003ci\u003eKirkus Reviews\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“An important and brave book... I can't imagine a single reader who won’t recognize herself somewhere in these pages.”—#1\u003ci\u003e New York Times \u003c\/i\u003ebestselling author Susan Elizabeth Phillips\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Kristan Higgins is at the top of her game, stirring the emotions of every woman with the poignant reality of her characters.”—#1 \u003ci\u003eNew York Times \u003c\/i\u003ebestselling author Robyn Carr\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“If you like stories that celebrate women's challenges and triumphs, you'll love this book.”—\u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author Susan Wiggs\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Wholly original and heartfelt, written with grace and sensitivity, \u003ci\u003eGood Luck with That\u003c\/i\u003e is an irresistible tale of love, friendship, and self acceptance—and the way body image can sabotage all three.”—Lori Nelson Spielman, \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author of \u003ci\u003eThe Life List\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“I LOVED \u003ci\u003eGood Luck with That\u003c\/i\u003e! It’s hilarious, heartbreaking, surprising, and so true to life.”—Nancy Thayer, \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author of \u003ci\u003eA Nantucket Wedding\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cb\u003eKristan Higgins\u003c\/b\u003e is the \u003ci\u003eNew York Times, USA TODAY\u003c\/i\u003e and \u003ci\u003ePublishers Weekly\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author of more than twenty novels, which have been translated into more than two dozen languages and have sold millions of copies worldwide. Her books have received dozens of awards and accolades, including starred reviews from \u003ci\u003eEntertainment Weekly, People, Kirkus, The New York Journal of Books, Publishers Weekly, Library Journal\u003c\/i\u003e and \u003ci\u003eBooklist\u003c\/i\u003e.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e The happy mother of two snarky and well-adjusted adults, Kristan enjoys gardening, mixology, the National Parks and complimenting strangers on their children. She lives in Connecticut with her heroic firefighter husband, cuddly dog and indifferent cat. Find her online at KristanHiggins.com, twitter.com\/Kristan_Higgins, and facebook.com\/KristanHigginsBooks.\u003cp\u003e(Georgia)\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e “Tickle.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Tag.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Tank.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Tatiana!” said Tatiana, and I smiled at her.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eWe were doing letter and sound recognition, a component of the language and literacy part of nursery school.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eRight now, we were trying to get every kid to name a word that started with \u003ci\u003eT\u003c\/i\u003e without any other chatter, which would reinforce their focusing skills as well as literacy. So far, our record was five words in a row, which was pretty good, given that everyone here was only four and had the attention span of a gnat.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Theater,” said Silvi.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eLissie, my assistant teacher, shot me a glance. Silvi was advanced, already reading. I felt a flash of pride for Clara, followed by the increasingly familiar buzz of nerves whenever anything related to Rafael entered my consciousness. For nearly five years, I’d done a damn good job of keeping him out of my head.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Turd,” said Geronimo, and the kids dissolved into giggles.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“He said ‘turd’! He said ‘turd’! Turd!” they shrieked. Axel got up and ran in a circle, a victory lap of sorts. Khaleesi started to cry, since she hated all things bowel-related, and Lissie comforted her.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“We got up to six ‘T’ words! That’s a new record, so good work,” I said. “And, Geronimo, you’re very funny, but let’s keep bathroom talk for bathrooms and when you have to go, okay, sweetheart?” I glanced at the clock. “Great job, everyone. And look at the clock! It’s time to clean up.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Clean up, clean up, everybody clean up,” the kids sang. We had a song for everything.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI directed the kids—Khaleesi and Cash could put the stuffed animals away, Silvi and Wren could bring the paintbrushes to the sink, Dash and Roland would put pink reminder slips in everyone’s cubby about bringing in special cuddle friends on Friday. Nash and Primrose reshelved books. I helped kids find their lunch boxes, gave out hugs, checked to see if paintings were dry enough to be taken home.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThen, at 2:00 on the dot, Lissie opened the door to let the parents in to get their kids. Donna, the teacher in room 2, let her kids out early every day . . . she was one year away from retirement and really over teaching. The hallway was mobbed with kids and parents, and for a second, I didn’t see him.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThen Silvi shouted, “Uncle Rafe!” and he knelt down, opening his arms as she ran to him.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eMy body reacted before my brain—knees softened, my left leg wobbling, the instant heat in my stomach rising through my chest and neck into my face, my hands buzzing with adrenaline.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eHe was here.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eClara had put him on the authorized-pickup list. I’d known this day was coming, but now that it was upon me, I couldn’t seem to . . . to . . . what was the question again?\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eRafe picked up his niece, kissed her on the cheek. “Hello, sweet girl,” he said, smiling.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThen he looked at me, and his eyes . . . I couldn’t believe I’d gone so long without seeing those eyes, so dark and beautiful, either the happiest or saddest eyes in the entire world, depending on his mood.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThey were happy right now. Because of Silvi, of course.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eHe was clean-shaven now, and it made him look younger. My heart felt weak and thin.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Georgia,” he said, and my stomach squeezed. His accent always made my name sound lush and delicious.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Hello, Rafe,” I managed. “It’s good to see you.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eHe was more beautiful than ever. Every one of his features was just a little big—nose, mouth, eyes. Generous. His hair was shorter. No more ponytail, and he looked . . . perfect. But for some reason, his short hair and lack of a beard made me want to cry a little, because . . . well, because I hadn’t known.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Miss Georgia, Miss Georgia, I can’t find my sock!” said Geronimo, who liked to strip down naked in the bathroom. And thank God, because it gave me an excuse to stop staring at my ex. I took Geronimo by the hand and led him to the bathroom, my heart banging. Never in my life was I so glad to close a door.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI took in a breath, then picked up the errant sock, which was lying under the sink. “Here you go, honey. Remember what we said about keeping your clothes on in here? Just pull down your pants next time, okay?”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Okay. I love you,” he said, throwing his arms around my neck.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eMaybe if I’d been a preschool teacher when Rafe and I were married, we would’ve made it.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eDon’t start, my brain said. You blew it. He asked for a divorce and you couldn’t say yes fast enough.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI put on Geronimo’s sock, tied his shoes and had him wash his hands. “That’s my boy,” I said, ruffling his hair.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“We’re best friends,” he told me.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“It’s nice to have so many best friends, isn’t it?” I asked. Couldn’t have him thinking he was my favorite, even if he was in my top five.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eWhen I came out, Geronimo’s dad was waiting. “How was my boy today?”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“He was excellent, as usual,” I said. “And very creative.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“I said ‘turd,’ Daddy! It starts with ‘T’!”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThe dad laughed. “I guess it does. Thanks, Georgia. See you tomorrow.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Bye, gentlemen. Have a great afternoon.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eSilvi was giving her uncle the tour. “This is where we paint. This is where we read books. I have this book at home. I have this one, too. Read me this one, Uncle Rafe.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Silvi, let me talk to Miss Georgia a moment, sweetheart. We are old friends, did you know that?”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eMy heart rate tripled.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“You are?” Silvi asked. “That’s a pleasant surprise!”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI couldn’t help a smile. Silvi’s vocabulary was rock ’n’ roll.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“We are.” His hand rested on her head. “Can you look at a book by yourself for a moment, sweet one?”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Silvi loves books, don’t you, honey?” Which he probably knew, being her uncle and all that.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Yes, I do,” she said. “I can read some by myself.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eMy hands were shaking, so I stuck them in the pockets of my denim jumper (which was just as sexy as it sounded).\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eRafe came over and stood in front of me, and my heart wasn’t just pounding now, but thrumming. The poker in my stomach twisted again and again.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Small world,” I said, my voice quiet.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Yes. How have you been, Georgia?”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Great. Fine. I’m preschool teacher now.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“So I heard.” A dark eyebrow lifted.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“I heard you have a new restaurant. Um . . . Cherish told me. My stepmother? Remember her?”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Of course I remember her.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Sure. Why wouldn’t you? I mean, how many people are named Cherish, right? Let alone exotic dancer stepmoms, right? Anyway, she said that . . . that she went to your restaurant. And it was good.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eRafe didn’t answer for a minute. Why would he? I was babbling like an idiot. I tried to look at him and failed.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Silvi says she loves school,” he said finally. “Thank you for that. The move, it was a little difficult for her.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“She’s doing great here.” I drew in a shaky breath. “How are you, Rafael?” Forced myself to look at him.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eHis expression was neutral. I had no idea what mine was. “I’m doing very well, thank you,” he said. “I hope it will not be too awkward, us seeing each other from time to time.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eAwkward? Not at all. Agonizing, that was a better word.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“No. It’s fine. Don’t worry about me! I’m . . . I’m great. With this, I mean. It’s lovely to see you again. Lovely to have Silvi. That’s what I meant.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eHe just kept looking at me.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Are you seeing anyone?” I asked, then jerked back a little because I hadn’t meant to ask.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Yes,” he said. “I am.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eOf course he was. “And is she . . . is she nice?” Is she beautiful? Is she kind? Is she thin? Do you love her?\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eMy ex-husband didn’t answer immediately. The silence swelled. Then he said, “I would rather not discuss her. But yes. She is nice.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI nodded, my face burning. “Well. Congratulations on the new restaurant.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Thank you.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Uncle Rafe?”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThis time, the voice was deeper. We both turned, and there was Mason.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“No,” Rafe said, his eyes widening in surprise. “It cannot be. Mason? Oh, madre de Dios, Mason! Where is the boy? You are a young man now! Come! Give me a hug!”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThere it was, that magical ease and warmth he had with people. Mason obeyed happily, and I swallowed against the wedge in my throat.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eMason had been our ring bearer.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThe two of them were chatting away like long-lost friends, which I guessed they were.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThat was the shitty thing about divorce. You lost that whole other family, that whole world. Rafe had been so good for Mason, his gentle brand of masculinity a much better role model than Hunter’s seething, omnipresent hostility.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eMaybe if Rafe had been in the picture, Mason wouldn’t have done what he did this past April.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Mason, please, come meet my niece, Silvi. She is a student here.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Cool. Hey, little kid. I’m Mason.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“I’m not little. I’m almost a big sister,” Silvi said.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Oh, gotcha. Sorry.” Mason grinned at us.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“I forgive you,” she said sweetly.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Silvi, we should go,” Rafe said. “I have to work tonight, and I want to take you to the park and perhaps for some ice cream, what do you say?”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“I say yes!” Silvi got up, hugged my legs, then grabbed her uncle’s hand. “Bye, Miss Georgia,” she sang out.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“It was good to see you,” Rafe said. Probably a lie.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThen they were gone.\u003c\/p\u003e","brand":"Berkley","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46301599596773,"sku":"NP9780451489395","price":22.0,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780451489395.jpg?v=1767728323","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/es\/products\/good-luck-with-that-isbn-9780451489395","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}