Despite being the one to suggest that they read it, Gwen was the last to finish reading After Anatevka. She had put it off: work got in the way, or she meant to bring it on the El with her but forgot, or it was lumpy to carry around anyway. Excuses, excuses, she knew. But the fact remained that, on the afternoon when Gwen finally closed the book shut with a satisfying slap, Eleanor was already waiting on the couch.
“Oh, finally,” she said, as Gwen sat up in her chair. “Now we can discuss.”
“Not so fast,” Gwen pulled back. There was much to be digested in the book, and Gwen wanted enough time. “I have to think about it first.”