She set her bag and coat down on a table near the door and scanned the faces of those who were to be her fellow classmates for the next ten weeks. Oh my God, she thought. What am I doing here?

An enormous woman, whose bulk hung over the sides of her gray metal chair, smiled shyly at Laura from across the room. To her left sat somebody's mother in dark-rimmed glasses with what looked suspiciously like a knitting bag on the floor beside her. On the other side of the circle a dumpy little man slumped in his seat with a forlorn expression that would have been more becoming on a child lost in a shopping mall than a middle-aged man in a singles workshop. Laura's eyes flicked back towards the door where they briefly caught the unsmiling gaze of a carefully made-up woman in a beige suit with a neckline so low that Laura saw she wasn't the only person in the room wearing a Wonderbra.

At the head of the classroom, a tall skinny man perched in his chair. With his untrimmed beard and wiry brown hair, he looked like one of the naturalists from Laura's junior high outdoor camp. She assumed he was the workshop leader, for he nodded encouragingly in her direction and said, "Please, take a seat. We'll get started in a moment."

Laura hesitated and then sat on the edge of a chair next to a man dressed in a navy blue suit and yellow silk tie. His face was the color of pumpkin pie and his graying hair was carefully combed back and held in place with some styling product.

Some of the dismay she felt must have shown in her expression, for the salon-tanned man turned to her. "I know," he said. "It's a bit embarrassing to be here, isn't it?"

She made a small movement with her mouth that could be taken as either a smile or a grimace.

"I'm Ray," he said and stuck out his hand.

She considered making up a name but figured the instructor would have a list of those who'd signed up and she'd get caught in her lie.

"Um, Laura," she answered as she shook his hand.

"Nice to meet you, Laura." He leaned toward her, her hand still in his, and said in a conspiratorial voice, "Looks like we may be the best of the bunch. We'll have to stick together." He smiled again, and as she retrieved her hand and recoiled from his too-close face, she was struck with how the white of his teeth matched exactly the white of his shirt. She wondered if he bleached them both.

Laura looked around waiting, hoping, for others to join them. After a few minutes, during which an old man in a suit and a pair of worn tennis shoes shuffled in and sat on Laura's right, the naturalist-leader closed the door and suggested they get started by having each person tell the group about themself, including why they were there and what they hoped to achieve over the next couple of months.

Two months, Laura thought. There's no way.

The instructor started them off by saying his name was Max, he had a master's degree in social work and had been a workshop leader for the last two years. While he spoke, his eyes were focused on the legs of a chair across the room. Laura followed his glance to see what he was staring at, but the chair was empty.

Then he turned to the feet of the knitting lady and said, "Please, now, tell us a little about yourself."

Laura noticed the woman's neck redden above the collar of her blouse as she told them her name was Anna, she'd been married for fifteen years until her divorce eight months ago. She said she wanted to stop feeling angry and move on to the next stage, of acceptance. Max nodded his approval. When she added that her children had encouraged her to get out and date again, a few people smiled.

As the other members droned on about their lives, Laura found herself tuning out while she planned what to say when it came to her turn.

Just keep it simple and short, Laura told herself. They don't need to know anything more than that you and your boyfriend split up. She didn't even want to tell them that much, but she had to give some reason for being there. Maybe she should just get up and leave, saying she'd walked into the wrong classroom, she thought this was ceramics. She considered announcing that she was a graduate student in psychology, doing research for her thesis, but was afraid she wouldn't be able to keep a straight face.

Laura's bright-toothed neighbor Ray took the floor, informing them that he was a defense attorney, divorced for too long and tired of meeting women in bars. "So, while you can't technically call me suddenly single, anyway I'm still single." One of the women laughed.

The class turned expectant faces towards Laura. "I'm Laura. My boyfriend and I broke up after being together three years and I'm just here to deal with the adjustment period." She looked at the old man on her right to indicate that she had finished.

Max held up his hand. "And how long ago was this, that you two split up?"

Unprepared for his question, she flushed. "Oh, not long."

She knew that sounded evasive, but how could she tell these people it had been nearly a year?

Max raised his eyebrows, but all he said was "Okay," as he nodded to the old man.

Laura found herself glancing down more and more frequently at her watch; she'd been in the room almost an hour—and there was still another hour to go. She'd never make it. Once Max had given his touchy-feely spiel that sounded like another catalog description, the group opened up to individual "sharing." Laura sat in mostly frustrated silence, tapping her foot impatiently when little Carl went on ad nauseum about his ex-wife.