#ReadWithMC-Welcome to Marie Claire's virtual book club. It's a pleasure to meet you, and for the month of January we will be reading The Vibrant Years by Sonali Dev. This book is a heartfelt, multi-generational story about self-discovery, love, family, and ambition. Read an excerpt below and find out how you can participate. (You really don't have to get off the couch.)

"I have a hot date tonight." I never thought I'd start a conversation with my grandmother, but if Binji doesn't say something un-grandmotherly at least once a day, Callie might suspect a body swap." Video call me and help me pick out an outfit to wear." [In California it was 9:00 in the morning and Callie worked until 4:00. But it was nearly noon in Florida, where Binji was, so Callie blinked sleepy eyes and switched the phone to a video call. Then a close-up of her grandmother's ample cleavage was shown.

"Binji, all I see is your girl." Callie did not remember that she had named her grandmother Binji, a combination of her grandmother's name, Bindu, and the Marathi word aji, meaning grandmother, but it suited her perfectly.

Binji stepped away from the phone. Whenever she needed fashion advice from Callie, she always propped it up on the bathroom vanity in her luxury new apartment. Callie's definition of "needy" was to demand, for the purpose was more complicated than it appeared. Her grandmother was a fashionista, and Callie was ...... wasn't. The session was meant to inspire Callie to "live a little" and "find her inner diva."

To Callie, it sounded like much more trouble than it was worth; at 25 years old, Callie sometimes felt like she had already lived a little too much. She had done everything that a person would try to accomplish in a lifetime. And honestly, her inner diva just wanted to take a nap.

"Why are you still in bed? Spinning around, Binge modeled a hot pink wrap dress that hugged her unfairly fabulous body. 'This bra, it's supportive, like armor. This catsuit, it's like a fist shoved under the sagging of my boobs."

Callie stretched out on a high-density zone support mattress designed to protect the backs of desk-bound workaholics. 'Looks like you're in pain. How is it fair that you look better in a fitted dress than my granddaughter?"

Binj adjusted the shirred and wrapped fabric under her breasts, further enlarging her pillowy cleavage. The delicate lines that glazed her skin like brushstrokes on a canvas were even more visible. You inherited my looks. You inherited my looks, and you inherited my son's carelessness. Do you know how much moisturizer I've used on this décolletage over the last twenty years?" She twisted around to show Callie her ass.

Sure, it might seem demeaning to one's grandmother, but to someone who could never know how stunning Binji was, it was. There was no need to lie.

"Why don't they make bras for butts? I need a cutlet too." Binj's almost hazel brown eyes, luckily inherited by Callie, needed no upkeep." How's that for a business idea?"

Cary snorted.

"Yeah, let's patent it.

Callie turned on her side and rested the phone against the pillow next to her."

"Just like your mother," she thought, "unless her mother turned every conversation into a lecture on the 'possibilities' or she'd disappear into the ether of bad parenting. One of my patents is enough to break my heart right now."

"Don't compare me to your mother. "I do not stick twigs into my lady parts."

"It hurts."

"Nor thorny twigs, these days. Tell me about this chest pain. Is Hot Steve causing problems again? Binge moved off camera and began to make noises indicating a change of dress.

"No," Cary mumbled. When the answer was too complicated, "no" was the perfect substitute. Hot Steve was not causing problems for Callie. Callie was. He was simply exploiting her problem.

"Never sleep with someone who works for you. That's the first thing women are taught in school." Binji returned to the frame, this time wearing a flowing white eyelet dress that revealed much less cleavage. The new Binji is a little less.

During Callie's childhood, her grandmother stuck to tunics and capris, occasionally wearing a caftan or midi dress. Fashion was always progressive, never like the other grandmothers, but it had only been six months since this new, super-hot style was chosen. Six months earlier, Binzi had mysteriously come into a large sum of money and purchased a luxury condominium in which rich white people were spending lavishly in their retirement years.

It was one of the many ways their family changed after Callie's parents divorced during a midlife crisis. But Binge's easy transformation was both disconcerting and oddly natural.

"How do you know, Binji?" and "You've never worked for anyone." But Binji only reminded her that just because Callie had created an app used by millions of people did not mean she was allowed to be arrogant. Callie couldn't bring herself to argue. Because it really was.

A moment of irritation flashed across Binj's face. The back of the bra had a cleverly placed strip of lace.

"Not only did I work at home, I was the best housewife anyone I knew." Binji looked up. 'Wait a minute. If you think your grandfather was my boss, I slept with him. A lot." She gave him a sharp, sexy look as she assessed herself over her delicate shoulders. Like an old binge and a new binge all rolled into one. She was always staring into your eyes. Maybe it was the contrast between the two grandmothers, but Callie learned early in life to recognize that look. Binji winked at her and said, "Most of our married life was seven days a week."

"Oh, Binji, it's TMI." Even as Callie exclaimed, she knew the redundancy. As "one of the most elegant coders of her generation" (Fortune magazine, thanks for the pressure), Callie understood redundancy; TMI was Bindu Desai's middle name, and had she been a social media influencer, it would have been her platform It is. Binj succeeded with Too Much Information.

"JEI, Carly Worley; did you know LOL stands for "living out loud?" She tucked her slicked-back bobbed hair behind her ears. Instead of her usual drugstore boxed color of dark medium brown, she had professional highlights. It was one of the changes she'd made since moving into her gorgeous new community.

"You made that up. Just like you made up JEI. There's a reason not enough information permeated popular culture.

"Popular culture is for sheep." Callie uttered her grandmother's favorite proclamation. 'Come on, focus. It's a dress. Which one do you want?"

Excerpted from The Vibrant Years by Sonali Dev, with permission of the publisher Mindy's Book Studio. Copyright © 2022 by Sonali Dev. All rights reserved.