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Worth the Weight

Page 3

by Mara Jacobs


  She couldn’t wait to see him, even if his first night home would inevitably be her playing designated driver while he got smashed and bitched about “those fucking pussies”, meaning, of course, the Colorado Avalanche. Her junior prom date, and her first client when she opened her own shop, she counted Petey as her closest male friend.

  After touching base with her three account executives on upcoming events that their clients were scheduled to attend, she signed off and decided to take Sybil’s advice and try not to call every day. She had an incredible staff, and much as she’d like to think she was indispensable, they were more than able to hold down the fort. Besides, now that the Stanley Cup had been decided, the only active professional sports in progress were baseball and golf. Hampton Public Relations handled only two baseball players and no golfers. Professional golf was the next arena Lizzie wanted to enter, but that would have to wait. It wasn’t an election year, so no politicians for clients right now. If she had to be gone for this long, now was as good a time as any.

  She hadn’t taken a vacation of any length in the ten years since she’d started her own firm. A short trip home to see her parents and Katie and Alison. A quick flight to Florida to see her twin brother, Zeke, when he was stationed there. That was it. She hadn’t felt cheated, though. Her job allowed her to go to some of the best sporting events in the country, in some of the best locales. And so much of her job involved social events that she never felt the need to “get away from it all” as many professionals did.

  She loved what she did for a living. She was good at it. If she could just get this sex thing handled, she’d feel like she had it all. She’d be a freakin’ perfume ad!

  She threw on a pair of sweats and tee shirt and walked from her parents old Victorian home on the east side of town, near the bridge, down the hill to Bob’s Mobil to get the papers. The Detroit papers wouldn’t arrive until later in the afternoon - the drive to this remote area was so far - but she could get the Milwaukee papers.

  After giving her change, and a couple of extra ones, to Help Hannah, and responding in kind to Bob’s curt, “Lizzie”, she left the station.

  Bob’s bible verse today was “The Love of Money Is the Root of All Evil”. No one had seen how it’d gotten there.

  By ten that morning, Finn was three hours into what would be another sixteen-hour day.

  Two of the kids who picked for him in the mornings didn’t show, so he was out with the twelve and thirteen-year olds picking strawberries in the north patch. He only had six kids working for him right now, but in another month, during peak season, there’d be twice that many.

  Joining him this morning were a few townspeople who were picking some of the first berries of the season. There were also a few industrious kids who would pick several quarts to sell at a roadside stand for double what they paid Finn. And a couple of tourists who wanted some local color and thought picking their own berries to put on their shortcake back at their hotel would be a quaint story to tell back home. Probably from the city. Though that could mean either Chicago or Detroit. The western corner of the U.P. was equidistant from both.

  His son, Stevie, was in the field too. Except for his mother’s Finnish, blonde hair, Stevie was the spitting image of Finn at fourteen. He could only hope to give Stevie an easier life than he’d had.

  He hadn’t been ready for fatherhood at twenty-three, hadn’t been ready to admit that Montana or Texas was never going to happen, but he thought he’d adapted pretty well. His unrealized dreams had never turned to resentment toward his son. Not from the first moment he’d held Stevie. It may have been unplanned, but once that baby boy was in his arms, Finn could never think of the pregnancy as unwanted.

  He knew he shortchanged Stevie by spending so much of his time with Annie, but it just couldn’t be helped right now. He wasn’t going to try to change that. He’d just have to figure out how to better spend his time with Stevie. What did they call that? Quality time? Yeah, he’d spend more quality time with his son.

  He looked over to see Stevie throwing a garter snake at one of the girl pickers. She shrieked in terror and ran through the rows of berry plants, causing the tourists to stand too quickly and dump the quarts of berries they’d already picked onto the muddy ground.

  He better get started with that quality time. But when? He was booked solid between the farm, the theater and Annie. Now throw in Liz - though he really didn’t plan on spending all that much time with her – and he didn’t know where he’d find the time to keep Stevie on the straight and narrow.

  He watched Stevie’s mischievous grin turn to innocence as the boy felt his father’s gaze. He’d find the time somehow.

  “Last one, I promise,” Lizzie said as she modeled what had to be the sixth outfit in contention for her date later that evening.

  They were in Lizzie’s childhood bedroom, once again talking about boys and clothes. Springsteen played on the CD player and her mom had left some lemonade on the desk. The identical scene had been played out hundreds of times before.

  “Yowza, that’s hot,” Alison said in a mock low growl of appreciation over Lizzie’s scantily clad body. She wore a red mini skirt and white halter-top.

  “Definitely says you’re ready, Lizard,” Katie added.

  Lizzie gave the outfit a quick glance then started taking it off right away. “Nah, not the look I’m going for. Besides, I’d be too worried my boobs would fall out of the top.”

  “And that would be a bad thing?” Alison teased.

  “What look are you going for?” Katie asked.

  “It’s got to be a tiny bit sexy, but more clean cut than anything else.”

  “Not exactly the way to get a guy into bed, Lizard, clean cut?”

  “We’re not talking about just any guy,” she said as she put her bra back on after taking off the halter-top that demanded she go commando. The bra’s sturdy underwire harnessed her plentiful bosom and put her back in her comfort zone. “Finn always liked the idea of me being a good girl. I think the women and girls he knew were all a little slutty, dressed kind of tarty. His mom sure did, though I only met her a couple of times. I think my button down oxfords and preppie attire really turned him on. I think…I think he liked the idea of the bad boy and the good girl.”

  “Are you sure you want this guy to be your first foray back into sex?”

  “That’s why he’s so perfect. He’s the most down and dirty guy I ever knew. If I can get through it with him, enjoy it with him, get over my body issues with him, it’ll be a breeze with someone as refined and cultured as Davis.”

  “Be careful, Lizard, books and covers and wolf and sheep’s clothing and all that,” Katie added.

  “Yeah I know, but I’m not some silly virgin you know.”

  “I don’t know, what is the statue of limitations on virginity? Maybe the hymen grows back without use for fifteen years.”

  Lizzie laughed at Alison’s remark. “Yeah, maybe Finn can finally get his wish and take my virginity after all. So, ladies, now that you know what I’m going for, what’ll it be?”

  “I’m thinking the white sleeveless with the khaki shorts,” Katie gave her opinion.

  “Yeah, I guess that’s what I’d go with too,” Alison weighed in.

  “Really? You think I can get away with a sleeveless blouse?” Lizzie asked. The outfit had been her favorite, too. A white cotton, collared, sleeveless button down blouse with khaki walking shorts and low sandals. Tiny gold hoop earrings and a thin gold chain were all the jewelry she would add. Casual, yet classic.

  “Of course you can wear sleeveless.”

  She looked in the full-length mirror one more time at another outfit. She gave it a quick glance, as she did with the other five outfits she’d tried on for her friends.

  “Why do you do that?” Katie asked.

  “Do what?”

  “Look in the mirror for about five seconds per outfit. You obviously care what you’re going to wear tonight or else you wouldn’t have us
putting our two cents in, but you hardly give it a second glance.”

  “If it were me, I’d be standing in front of the mirror for a good twenty minutes with each outfit, turning every angle, sitting down in the outfit, the whole nine yards. You barely look at it,” Alison added.

  Lizzie shrugged. “It doesn’t matter how long I look in the mirror, I don’t see myself anyway, so why bother. I can get the idea with a quick look. Besides that’s why you guys are here, to back me up.” At Katie and Alison’s puzzled looks she tried to elaborate. “I mean, I obviously look in the mirror when I get dressed or do my hair or make up, but...when I look in the mirror, I see parts, not the whole. It only takes a second to check on the parts that I know may be troublesome, so, I look at those quickly, and if they pass inspection, then it’s a go.”

  “What do you mean parts, not the whole?” Of course something like this would fascinate Alison the psychologist.

  “I only see myself in parts...when I look at myself. I can’t see me, just my parts. I’ve become very detached from my body image, I’ve had to, or I’d have gone crazy.”

  “I’m not getting it,” Katie said. “Put the outfit we picked back on.” The women waited as she stripped out of the last outfit she’d tried and put on the white blouse and shorts once more.

  There was no modesty or embarrassment while Lizzie was only in her bra and panties. Not with the these women. Never had been. Never would be. Even when she was twice the size she was now. Even when Katie had felt that her body was betraying her by crying barrenness. Even after Alison had her appendix removed and there were bandages and scars. Since kindergarten, really. It was a sense of security that Lizzie took for granted.

  Once she had the shirt and shorts on she turned to Katie for further instructions.

  “Okay, now turn to the mirror and quickly tell me what you see.”

  It only took seconds for her to look and answer. “Arms. Not as tan as I’d like, stretch marks underneath, I’ll have to hold my arms close to my sides. No high fiving,” she chuckled, imagining greeting Finn with a high five. Definitely not his style.

  “What else?”

  She glanced again to the mirror. “Bust. The buttons don’t gap across my boobs. That’s good.”

  “What else?”

  “Tummy. The pleats of the shorts lay flat, they don’t pull even when I put my hands in the pockets.”

  Alison joined in, “What else?”

  “Thighs. The shorts don’t cling to my inner thighs or accentuate my saddlebags.”

  “What else?”

  “That’s it.”

  “What do you mean that’s it?”

  “That’s it, that’s all I see. Arms. Bust. Waist. Thighs. All sectioned off like that.”

  Lizzie caught Katie and Alison exchanging looks.

  “Don’t read too much into it. It’s just the way I look in the mirror, nothing else.”

  “I don’t know. Seems to me you could make a case for the fact that you divide yourself into parts,” Alison said, putting her analyst’s cap on. “It’s all very Gestalt. The whole is less than the sum of all parts. Something like that. I forget. I always thought he was full of crap anyway.”

  Lizzie waved Alison off. “You do the same thing, everybody does, you just don’t realize it.” She noticed her friends once again giving each other dubious looks. “I’ll tell you one other thing about this outfit.”

  “Yes?”

  “The shirt is tucked in and I’m wearing a belt.”

  “So?”

  Her voice cracked with emotion. Emotion she’d tried to silence with Ding Dongs for so long. “I haven’t worn a shirt tucked in with a belt in fifteen years.” She turned her head, but not before her friends could see the moistness in her eyes. Damn, she didn’t want to cry. Not now. Not when she had her first date with Finn tonight. She pretended to brush her hair away from her face and caught the dreaded tear.

  Katie was not quite as subtle and openly let a few drops fall as she whispered, “Oh, Lizzie.”

  Lizzie caught Katie and Alison’s glances in the mirror and decided the spotlight had been on her long enough for one afternoon. Turning the tables, she asked, “So, Al, any prospects out there?”

  Alison shrugged. “A new prof in the civil department at Tech has been sniffing around a little bit.”

  Katie perked up. “Really? Since when?”

  “Just a couple of weeks ago. Of course with classes out now, I probably won’t see him for awhile, so it’ll probably turn out to be nothing.”

  “You’re not teaching any summer classes?” Lizzie asked as she put her gym shorts and tee shirt back on, bringing the fashion show to an end. She put the winning choice over a chair and collected the runners up from the bed. Katie and Alison were lying cross-wise, their legs dangling off the side of the canopy bed that she had slept in since the sixth grade. She moved Alison’s legs to get a top that had been cut in the first round, put it on a hanger and back in the closet.

  “No, I’m not teaching this summer. And my patient load is pretty light right now, so the summer’s looking pretty carefree.”

  “Is this prof teaching this summer? Will he be around?” Katie inquired.

  “He is teaching a couple of classes. Being new, he drew the short straw.”

  “Where does he live? Has he ever been married? Kids? Where’s he from originally?”

  Alison put her hands up to stop the barrage of questions. “Whoa, Kat, slow down. I don’t know any of that. Oh yeah, he’s from Baltimore originally.”

  “And he’s spent a winter here? And he didn’t leave? The snowfall didn’t scare him off?”

  “As far as I know he’s planning on teaching next fall.”

  Lizzie finished hanging up the last of the clothes. “Anything we can do to help land this guy? You two are helping me out with my plan, I’d gladly help you out, Al.”

  Before Katie could say a word, Alison cut them off. “No way. Let’s just handle you right now, Lizard. I have a feeling that this twisted plan of yours will keep us all on our toes for the next few weeks.”

  “What do you mean twisted? This is a well thought out, succinctly planned mission which will be executed on time and in full.”

  “Yes, General Hampton,” Alison said with a salute.

  “Oh, shut up.” She picked up a hairbrush and threw it at the other two, which Alison easily deflected then handed to Katie who began to brush Alison’s hair. It was a routine that had begun in fifth grade.

  As if reading Lizzie’s thoughts, Katie said, “Gosh, the more things change.... huh? I half expect Zeke to come barreling in here and scream at us to turn the music down. Or your mother yelling ‘Elizabeth, Ezekiel, behave yourselves’.”

  Alison and Lizzie both smiled, remembering all the time the three of them had spent in this room doing pretty much the same thing they were doing now.

  Katie continued on with her thoughts, “Hey, where is Zeke now? Still on float?”

  “Yep, still on float. I think the carrier’s due back soon. You know the Navy, you get about a forty-eight hour notice as to when anything will happen. My mom and dad are ready to go as soon as they get the word. They’re going to fly to Jacksonville to meet the squadron when it flies in. It’s this big ritual they do after a float this long, all the wives and girlfriends go to the base and meet the jets with champagne. Anyway, with Zeke not seeing anybody right now, my parents wanted to make sure he’d have someone there when he landed, so they’re going down. They just don’t know when, yet.”

  “That’s nice of them,” Katie said as she continued brushing Alison’s short, glossy locks.

  “Yeah, it is. I did it, let’s see, six or seven years ago. It’s pretty cool. Those Navy pilots know how to party.”

  “Hey Lizard, if it doesn’t work out with this Davis guy back in Detroit, you should have Zeke introduce you to his fellow pilots.”

  “Good God, no! I’ve been to their parties, I’ve seen the women they like, I am definitely n
ot trophy girlfriend material.”

  “Oh, I don’t know, you put that mini with the halter back on and you could definitely pass,” Katie said.

  “I don’t know why I even bought that one, it’s so not me. I think I was just so thrilled that I could fit into it. I don’t think that baby’s ever going to see the outside of my closet.”

  She watched the two women she loved most in the world, with the exception of her mother, and felt a sense of calm and serenity come over her that she hadn’t felt in years. Maybe she never had. So many new feelings and emotions had surfaced in the last three years that her only way to deal with them had been to quickly acknowledge their presence then politely ask them to leave, assuring them that they’d be welcome some other time, when she was better equipped to handle them. When that day would be, Lizzie couldn’t say.

  She knew she sublimated emotions with food, she didn’t need Dr. Phil to tell her that, but allowing said emotions free reign was another thing entirely.

  She’d get there; it was just taking a while. She considered herself a work in progress.

  Chapter Three

  √ Meet Finn at Commodore

  √ Do Pilates tape to make up for mom’s dinner last night

  √ Call Sybil

  From the back booth of the Commodore, Finn watched Liz walk in. He got out from the booth and waved. He noticed the stares she got from a bunch of the guys as she walked past.

  His chest filled with pride. His Liz, all grown up.

  God, she’d turned into a beauty. Her long, pitch-black hair was swept from her face with a headband. It swung loose behind her, showing a teasing glimpse from around the side of her waist as she moved. She’d worn her hair very short when they’d dated, and he’d thought that looked great on her, brought out her eyes, but this…this was sexy as hell.

  The body of the girl he’d known had developed into that of a woman. Her hips swung with tempting fullness and her lush breasts were framed by a crisp white shirt that she had unbuttoned only once. That was Liz, never giving it away. Only a lucky few got to see what was going on underneath. On every level.

 

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