Fat Chance Page 11

  "You disgust me," he mutters as we follow the hostess.

  "You're pretty disgusting yourself. I guess we're quite a pair."

  He growls quietly to himself, missing the chance to say anything back as we've approached the table. Janet launches herself into my arms, and I can't hold back the laughter, catching her into a hug.

  "The girls are telling me about your boyfriend!" she exclaims.

  I shoot Renee and Chelsea a glare over Janet's shoulders, which they pretend not see; when Janet moves to sit back down, I catch Rick quickly erasing the shock from his face, and trying to look normal. I know he's dying to say something, but I also know that I don't want to hear it, so I drop into the booth beside him and address Janet before Rick can say anything.

  "It's really nothing," I say. "We've only been on one date so far, but we're working on planning another, and I like him. He's really nice, and that's all there is to tell really."

  Our waiter comes along then, and we all take turns ordering dinner. I'm ashamed of myself for provoking Rick purposely, but I order fried catfish, french fries, and a side of broccoli casserole with rice. He pretends to choke on his drink so that he can cover his mouth and laugh behind his napkin, and I pretend to drop my fork in my lap so that I can covertly stick him with it under the table.

  "That is not all there is to tell," Janet presses. Come on, when my littlest little one --"

  At this, Rick burst outright into laughter, which draws all attention at the table to him, and I hide a smile behind my tea as he scrambles to cover for him slip.

  "I, ah, saw a kid doing something funny, over there," he says.

  "Aww, too bad we all couldn't have seen it," I sneer. Turning back to Janet, I say, "Anyway, when your littlest little one, what?" In the periphery of my vision, Rick is shoveling salad into his mouth in a desperate effort to be quiet.

  'When my littlest little one is dating," she continues, "I need to know everything. So we'll start with his name. And what he does for a living. And then you can tell me if he's a hottie."

  "I have to pee, let me up," Rick says, and I stand to let him out of the booth. The little girl inside me is hysterically laughing, as Rick is now so uncomfortable that he is the one running away. The change in power makes me giddy.

  "His name is Drew," I tell Janet, as our waiter brings dinner and sets everything out. "He's tall, and he's well-built with green eyes and dark brown hair. He's a cop --"

  At this, Chelsea interrupts, pretending to swoon and fall on Renee, who drops a bite of shrimp into her lap. Janet looks a warning at them, and they sit up straight in the booth, eating and pretending to be completely innocent.

  "He's a cop," I say again, glaring at the twins for forcing me to have this conversation in the first place. "And he's from a large family, and that's pretty much all I can tell you so far." I'm not telling the whole truth, but I've told all that I'm willing to share at this point, especially since Rick is approaching the table.

  The rest of dinner goes smoothly because the conversation shifts from me to the other members of the family. Chelsea updates us on her life, Renee talks about her job, and Rick goes on about a neighbor woman who keeps letting her dog pee in his yard.

  I get another quick dig at Rick when time for dessert rolls around, and our waiter brings out a birthday cake for Janet. The entire wait staff is with him, and as they serenade a completely embarrassed Janet, I lean toward Rick to whisper in his ear.

  "Finally. I ate that catfish, but it just wasn't cutting it. I'm going for the staff next; should I start with that hot buff guy over there, or the little short chick? I bet she can't fight hard."

  He rolls his eyes and ignores me, and I laugh quietly to myself; this enrages him and he stiffens beside me. Had we been younger, he'd have shoved me out of the booth; he's done it before. But alas, we are among the adult class, and Janet would probably kill him for pulling something like that here. He's biding his time; the walk to the car is going to really, really suck.

  Thankfully, I have a phone call to look forward to.

  We all share Janet's birthday cake, we chip in to cover the bill, and then our group breaks for the door. Janet hugs me before she leaves, and whispers in my ear.

  "See? He's grown up so much," she says, quietly.

  Whispering some token agreement, I hug her tightly and send her off with her daughters, and then I square my shoulders and head toward my car. Rick falls into step beside me, which makes my skin crawl. Heaven forbid that anyone should see me with this cretin.

  "So, a boyfriend, huh?"

  "Maybe, maybe not. We've just been dating, but he's nice. You could learn a thing or two from him."

  "And he likes you?"

  "He certainly seems to when he kisses me goodnight." I grip my little purse a little tighter, wishing I could think of a good excuse to pull out the little bottle of pepper spray tucked inside.

  "Well, I think that's great, that you've found someone," he says, and I come to a halt in the middle of the parking lot.

  "Excuse me?"

  "Yeah, I'm thrilled." We've come to his truck now, and he stops to unlock the door before he turns. Placing his hands lightly on my shoulders, he leans close and whispers, "Just be careful he never sees any of those giant tent panties. And always keep your girdle on."

  Enraged, I slip my purse to one hand, take a step back, and stand to my full height. I'm itching to slap him silly, or outright punch him, but instead I take my vengeance in a much easier direction.

  "At least I'm dating someone. Good luck finding someone who can stand your sorry waste of space." Turning, I hold my head high, though my eyes are watering. By the time I dig the keys from my purse, Rick has slammed into his truck and roared out of the parking lot, which is good because I need him to not see me break down.

  "You won, just relax, you won. A bully gives up when he can't find a weak target. Just stick it out," I tell myself. Climbing into the car, I get myself together and practice the deep breathing I've learned in Renee's yoga class. Once I'm fine again, I text Drew and tell him I'm ready to talk, and the ride home is spent chattering to him about everything except Rick.

  Chapter Nineteen

  We've finally managed to set another date, and this time, Drew is determined to surprise me. I have no idea where we're going, but I've been instructed to dress for rugged terrain. So I'm sitting here in my living room, wearing fitted jeans with flared legs that move when I do, jeans that Chelsea swore looked great on me, even though I'm concerned with how they hug my ample hips. I've got on my usual top style, a wrap tunic in a red plaid pattern. Simple running shoes -- ha ha, me, in running shoes -- complete the outfit, and I'm ready to go.

  I manage not to notice when he pulls up, and so he's forced to come up and knock, which makes me poke myself in the eye with the mascara wand I've been using.

  "Hold on," I shout, but he must have thought I said "come on," because the door opens and I hear him walking in.

  "Cass?" he shouts, while I blink frantically and wipe at my eye with a makeup cloth. I'm hoping desperately that my apartment is suitably picked up, that I have no stray panties lying around to scare him off. I may be able to wear a tough face in front of Rick, but I'm only human, and the things people say to me do have an effect.

  "Are you ok?" And suddenly, he's there, in the mirror. Crap.

  "Yep, just a makeup mishap," I chirp. "You can have a seat if you want, and I'll be finished up in a jiff."

  "Okay, cool," he says, slipping into the bathroom behind me. I don't get time to wonder what he's doing before the small size of the room causes his hips to brush my rear, and I freeze, praying not to poke myself in the eye again.

  "Ahem, I've never been able to do this before," he says, putting the lid down on my thankfully clean toilet. I can't help stopping what I'm doing and staring at him. Apparently, he's misunderstood where I wanted him to sit.

  "What?" My eye is fine now, and I'm waiting for it to stop watering so that I can repair the mascara
.

  "You know, I've never got to watch a woman get ready to go somewhere. Growing up, mom used to always shut the door, and then when my sisters got older, they'd go in with her and they’d shut the door. Dad would joke and say, 'uh oh, the makeup monster is loose,’ but none of us really knew what went on behind the door, you know?"

  "Aw, that's cute," I murmur, trying not to poke myself again, while trying not to make the ugly mascara face that all women make instinctively, the one that most likely caused Drew’s family women to shut the door in the first place. "What did you think happened?"

  "Magic," he laughs, and I laugh, too, screwing the mascara wand back into the tube.

  "What are we doing today?" I ask, slicking tinted gloss on my lips and then stuffing the gloss into my jeans pocket.

  "Ah-ah," He laughs, nudging my elbow as I pack my makeup into a little zipper bag that stays on the counter. "It's a surprise."

  "Okay, well, can you tell me if I'm dressed okay?"

  "You're just fine," he says, standing up and moving behind me again, so that we're in the mirror together. "We look great." And we do; he's wearing jeans too, and a dark maroon polo shirt. I can't help thinking that we've somehow managed to be picture perfect, wearing the same colors by accident, pulling it off nicely. He winks at me, takes my hand, and tugs me out of the bathroom. I flick the light switch as I pass it, and then we're on our way.

  I try hard not to beg him to spill his surprise while he's driving, and he does his best to keep me distracted. He asks if I'm feeling better after my last encounter with Rick, and I can assure him almost honestly that I'm just fine.

  Before long, we're pulling in to where I assume we're going. As far as I can see, there are open fields and lots of little forested areas. Off in the distance, there's the sparkling blue of a lake, and I'm intrigued. My focus though, is mainly on the little brick building we've driven up in front of. It isn't a house; it looks sort of like an old-fashioned dry goods store or something.

  "You ready?" he asks, and I nod pretending I'm not terrified. I hope we're not doing anything scary, or anything he might not realize is off limits to big girls. Nothing like being called out for being fat on a date. I take a breath, and then he's there, opening my door for me the way he always does.

  "It's going to be fine," he whispers, slipping an arm around my shoulders to put me at ease. "You're going to be fine."

  As we approach the door, it opens, and a round little woman walks out. She's middle-aged, with a fluff of dark curly hair piled high on her head. Her dark brown eyes take me in, and then I'm alone as Drew walks over to envelop her in a bear hug.

  "Hey, Aunt Carrie," he says. "We still good for today?"

  She pats her hair, rattled by his affection, and then smiles up at him, lightly slapping his cheek as she laughs, "You know where to go, so you take the pretty girl and go on. I'll just be right here," she says.

  He comes back to me, and now I'm feeling decidedly awkward. Isn't it supposed to be a while before you do the whole meet-the-family thing?

  "That's your aunt?" I ask, as his arm settles around my shoulders again and he leads me around the side of the building.

  "Not really," he explains. But she's been a friend of the family since she and my mom were in kindergarten together. I've been coming here to ride since I was three."

  "Ride?" I ask, trying not to panic, because I'm terrified that he's thinking what I think he's thinking.

  "Yeah, horses. If you're scared of them or something, we can just wander on foot. Carrie's husband has taken a picnic and left it at the lake for us, for later."

  "Well," I hedge. "I've never been on a horse before, or next to one, or --"

  "I'll tell you what," he says, as we approach a giant barn. "Just come meet the guys with me, and we'll see how you feel when we get there. Okay?"

  I nod, and he tucks my hand into his elbow. Reminded of the old couple from the restaurant, I'm smiling again as we enter the barn. Assailed by the sounds and smells of a horse barn, I'm oddly comforted. This is wholly new to me, but if I'm honest, I'll admit to myself that I'm a little excited.

  We walk straight through the barn, and now I know that I can't back out, no matter how afraid I am. Through the barn, there's an open area surrounded by fence, and grazing along the fence-line are a pair of horses. Saddled and ready to go, the giant beasts are beautiful even as I find them frightening.

  "You ready?" Drew asks.

  "And willing," I answer, and he chuckles. Walking over to a lidded wooden crate, he lifts the lid and pulls out a couple of apples, handing on to me and keeping the other for himself.

  "If we feed them, they love us pretty much instantly," he jokes, and I take a deep breath as we approach the horses together. One lifts his head, and then the other, and soon they're both coming slowly over to us. Drew holds out his apple, and as the horse plucks it neatly from his hand, he catches part of the harness, talking softly to calm the gentle beast.

  I follow his lead, holding my apple out to the horse that has approached me. It huffs a hot breath into my palm, gently plucking the apple from me, and though I'm terrified this beast will eat me, I follow Drew again, reaching my other hand up to grasp the harness.

  "Please don't eat me; I'm not here to do anything but feed you apples. For now," I murmur, hoping that will be enough small talk to make it happy. I really don't want to tell it that I expect it to happily carry me alongside this man who has such joy in his face; I'm certainly not going to stand here and beg it not to break down in screams of despair, under my chair-breaking butt. The horse nudges me, huffing again, and I look over to Drew for guidance.

  "You think you can do it?" he asks me. His gentle tone tells me he won't mind if I say no, but his eyes beg me to try, and I can't resist.

  "Yep, we're ready. Right, pal?" I reach a shaking hand up and pat the horse, who nudges me again.

  "He likes you," Drew says. "Come on. Just hold the reins like this, and be careful not to hold them close enough to pinch."

  "Like this?" I ask, gripping the reins gently, several inches below the horse's jaw.

  "Perfect," he says proudly, taking his own horse and showing me by example how to lead mine over to a mounting block.

  "Go head and step up," he tells me, releasing his horse and taking control of mine. I climb to the top of the mounting block, and he guides the horse over, so that the saddle is in front of me.

  "Drew?" I ask, uncertainly. "Are you sure I can do this? I've really never done this before."

  "You'll be just fine, and I'm right here with you," he says. "But if you really don't want to ride, we don't have to, and it's fine, I swear." He grins up at me. "You are too cute up there," he says.

  "And this thing won't kill me?" I ask, one last time, hoping the day doesn't go the other way around, with the poor horse lying broken on the ground under me.

  "Nope, this one is Aunt Carrie's baby. He's a good guy." He pats the horse, eliciting a snort from the beast.

  "Okay," I say, and Drew hands me the reins.

  "Now, you don't want to pull them or anything yet," he instructs. "Just hold onto them, the same way you develop the habit of holding the wheel of the car even if you aren't always actively driving it. Put your left foot in the loop of the stirrup, like that, and then you just kind of hop off the block and swing that right leg over. Then you just sort of lower yourself to sit in the saddle, and hold still while I mount, too. Okay?"

  I nod and heave a sigh, trying to relax myself, and then I place my left foot in the stirrup. The horse doesn't seem to notice, and stands there calmly while Drew murmurs to him. I swing my right leg over the back of the horse, hoping I don't fall off the other side like an idiot, and then I'm finished.

  "Oh my God, I'm on a horse," I breathe. "I'm on a horse, I'm on a horse."

  "Okay? You good?"

  I smile down at him, and he just looks happy today. He doesn't look like the world is strapped to his back, and if I just need to sit here on a giant, million-pou
nd beast, then I guess I'm okay. For now.

  "Okay, just be still and try to relax," he says, leaving me to go re-capture his own beast. He easily lifts on long leg, and slips his foot into the stirrup, swinging right up onto the horse from the ground.

  After a short riding lesson, I have been properly instructed on how to hold the reins, as well as basic riding techniques. Drew relaxes when he can see that I've relaxed some, and we ride slowly together, through a little gate at the side of the fence.

  Eventually, I've grown comfortable enough on my horse that I've begun to trust his strength. Less paranoid about breaking the animal beneath me, I'm now free to look around, and I'm completely taken with my surroundings.