When Jean had asked him if he would replace the scheduled speaker, he’d accepted. Introducing his research to sated dinner guests was a great way to get his cultural project out in the public, and prairie people were known for their generosity. After the introduction, he stood and walked to the podium. He placed his notes where they could be accessed should he lose his way. After a sip of water, he glanced at the faces in the audience. The overflow light from the stage illuminated a familiar face. No, it couldn’t be the student who had crashed her nose into his chest. This was a pricey dinner to raise money for charities. She turned her chair and tilted her head to watch and listen. The movement felt strikingly familiar, as if he’d seen this often. But he had a presentation to give. He cleared his mind and he looked down at Jean Clifton. His colleague gave him thumbs up and he began.
Robbie shifted her chair slightly and peered between the other guests watching Jake straighten his notes and take a sip of water from a glass. She felt as if Jake had looked straight at her for the first few seconds, but that had to have been wishful thinking. She’d looked so different in her jeans and fleece jacket. Now, she carried an evening bag instead of a backpack. As he addressed the audience, Jake’s voice grew strong and full of conviction.
She felt safe watching him now that he was absorbed. The thought that had skidded across her brain that maybe, just maybe, he remembered her from one little collision in a busy hallway had sent her heart fluttering. In a small corner of her mind, she hoped he felt confused and recognized something about her that reminded him of his association with Robin. After all, he studied people so why hadn’t he noticed her disguise? Whenever they met at Frank’s, he was considerate. Or had he accepted her as she presented herself to him? The research side of her brain turned off and she put her hand on her heart. Now that would be the type of man that would be a keeper for her future.
She tore herself from her wayward thoughts and forced herself to focus on the presentation. Jake’s passionate voice described the ancient San in the Kalahari Desert. They continued their traditional hunter-gatherer lifestyle even though their hunting areas were invaded by commerce. Food was shared among the whole group. The !Kung San believed it was wrong to eat in front of someone who did not have food, even if he was a big, visiting stranger.
The audience laughed.
While he spoke about the clicks and pops in their language, Robbie felt cocooned in the anonymity of the crowd. She could indulge a fantasy that Mr. Broad-shouldered, dark- blond professor with a passion for his work was speaking to her and her alone. She discerned that they shared common interests. While Jake tried to understand whole cultures, she tried to understand the influences a negative body image had on a woman’s life.
Her attention was yanked back into the present when she heard Jake mention “appetite suppressant.”
“. . . The Bushmen ate the pulp of succulent Hoodia Gordonii for thousands of years during long hunting trips because it controlled their need for water and food. This plant is part of their ancient knowledge and is now under clinical development by a licensed drug company to find a cure for obesity. The San need assistance to protect the plants’ environment and their own lifestyle.”
Robbie knew about suppressants. Her group had confirmed her research about experiencing rapid heartbeats, mood swings, and expense. Maybe there was a new medical bullet on the horizon. But what did the suppressant do for the crunch of food, the brilliance of a plate of green vegetables and red strawberries, or the social activity of eating? Didn’t anyone else see the irony in an appetite suppressant after a wonder meal?
Jake spoke about the changes brought to the community by those from outside, with examples of permanent housing and individual wages earned for individual work. He speculated for a moment about how changes seemed to move from the outside toward the inside of a community. He knew that every time he visited with another culture he left something behind and brought something forward to his own life.
Even Brad’s attention was held. Usually a few minutes into a presentation he was nudging her to call attention back to himself. Though Sam was the love of Brad’s life, Brad felt he couldn’t share that fact with the business world yet. But if Brad continued on the fast track, it wouldn’t be long before Mr. Lawson would find him indispensable and Brad and Sam could attend these functions together.
The serving staff unobtrusively slipped between the tables with refills of coffee, tea, and ice water.
For now, Robbie felt safe in stealing a long look at Jake’s full, open face. His broad smile, his white teeth, his deep brown eyes seemed to look directly at her. The room was decorated for the season where gifts were given and received.
“You okay?” Brad’s arm cushioned her back from the chair.
She leaned into him with a wispy smile on her lips.
“Close your mouth. You’re drooling.” Brad’s breath tickled her ear.
“But he’s handsome and a Ph.D. and I’m swooning and wishing that the universe will look after my love life for a few minutes. Indulge me.”
He leaned closer, then kissed her cheek. “Consider yourself indulged.”
“Thanks. I’m done now. I have a big life ahead of me after I get my degree. I’m not looking for love in all the wrong places.” She was a student and Jake was a faculty member and never the twain shall meet. She leaned her head on Brad’s shoulder before she filled her mind with more clichés, then watched the end of the formalities as Jake accepted his small token of appreciation with practiced grace.
As the overhead lights brightened, people stood, stretched, and chatted. Robbie saw the Master of Ceremony lead Jake and Jean Clifton straight to Brad and Robbie’s table.
Brad’s boss, Mr. Lawson, pumped Jake’s hand heartily and turned his attention to Brad. “This is the man who should be working with you, Dr. Proctor. If anyone can set up your cause in a wide network, it’s Brad Mason.”
“Glad to meet you, Mr. Mason.” Jake stretched his hand to Brad.
Robbie watched as the two men seemed to reach an understanding during the firm handshake. “I’d like to have the opportunity to draft some ideas and discuss them with you, Dr. Proctor.”
“Sounds good.” Brad turned to Robbie. “I’d like to introduce Robbie Smith.”
Jake nodded and extended his hand. “It’s nice to see you again.”
Robbie smiled and felt her hand secured in his. He remembered her. She sobered when the white-clad Clifton moved toward her.
Robbie stepped back. “I’ve learned my lesson. I stop and set up my MP3 player before I rush through the halls.” Her hand reached up to her nose. She recalled the scent of his leather jacket and his subtle cologne.
“Glad to see there wasn’t any permanent damage. I haven’t seen you at the university.”
Clifton stepped forward. “Robbie’s almost done. As you know, grad students work on their own, some more than others and then they defend their material and they’re off to a new life.”
“Thank you, Dr. Clifton. From your lips to the committee’s ears. You’ve been my role model.” If Clifton’s sights are set on Jake maybe she’ll be too occupied and forget about her thesis. Sure, and elephants can hide in a pile of Smarties Candy. After Jake and Clifton moved on to the next table, Robbie reached up and kissed Brad and swung him around. “The universe is a great place. Did you hear Dr. Clifton? She’s positive about my thesis. If I hadn’t come here tonight with you, I wouldn’t have met her in a social situation.”
“Looks to me like she’s got your man,” Brad said.
“I told you I was swooning for a few minutes. Those minutes are up,” Robbie whispered. “The most important issue is that for some reason Dr. Clifton seems to really be interested in Dr. Proctor and maybe, just maybe, she might be too busy to hassle me about my project.”
“Can I bring you another glass of
wine to celebrate?” Brad asked.
She covered her mouth as a yawn exploded. “To be honest, I’d like to go home. I need sleep.”
“If you can wait a few more minutes, I’ll drive you. If you think you’ll fall asleep on your feet, I’ll call a cab.”
“I’ll stay if you’re sure you’ll be ready to leave in half an hour.”
“Deal.” He paused as his gaze swept the room. “They do make an elegant pair, but it looks as if the prince’s neck is on a swivel. He’s checking us out again.” Brad tilted his head to the left and wriggled his eyebrows.
She reached for her handbag and looked in the direction Brad was indicating. “Maybe he’s checking you out. After all, you could be working with him,” she whispered.
“He can check all he likes. His life will never be the same if he gives me a chance and I set up a system to help the San with their concerns about the environment and traditional medicines.”
The lights dimmed and the band began to play. Brad and Robbie circled the room extending their holiday greetings. While Brad helped Robbie with her coat, they both turned at the now familiar voice. “Mason, I’ve written down my cell phone number. Call me when you’ve had time to think of an approach for the !Kung San or if you need more information. I know the leaders would appreciate the assistance.”
“Yes, sir.”
While Brad and Jake exchanged a few more words, Clifton and Mr. Lawrence danced. Robbie felt Clifton’s stare. She stepped away from the men and was tempted to put her arms in the air as the general signal for surrender.
At the end of the evening, Robbie gratefully settled back into the heated leather seat in Brad’s car.
Brad put his arm around her shoulder and turned her toward him. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. I had a great time. We danced, and I ate a meal that I didn’t have to cook or pay for, and I mingled with men dressed in fine suits and women in their seasonal glory. And, and Professor Clifton suggested I’d be starting a new life soon.”
“And don’t forget the swoon.” Brad nudged her.
“Oh yes, swooning is such good exercise for the heart.”
When they stopped at her house, Brad came around and opened the door for her and held onto her arm while they climbed the stairs to the front door.
“You’re such a gentleman. It’s a lost art.”
He gave her shoulders a squeeze. “It’s easy to be a gentleman to a lady.”
After the door was unlocked and the hall light was on, he kissed her cheek.
She took off her gloves. “Say hello to Sam for me.”
He yawned. “I will. Sleep tight.”
Robbie hung her coat next to the oversized coat she wore when she was in disguise. Her life was complicated right now but in a few weeks it would be all over.
She yawned while she undressed, then washed her face and brushed her teeth. It had been a long week. As she lay in bed, she thumped her pillow and scrunched further under her comforter. A fuzzy warmth settled over her as she remembered Frank’s comfort at having a her next to him in bed and Jake’s gentle motion of pushing the loafer over her toes and heels. It felt like she was wrapped in a hug where all was right with the world just being there for Frank and Jake, even if she was in a costume. Just because she didn’t look like herself didn’t mean that she was different.
Saturday whizzed by, filled with chores and studying. Sunday morning arrived, crisp and bright, no reports of road closures, no storm warnings, nothing to keep her from attending her high school reunion. After her first cup of coffee, she checked her thesis agenda. Her personal field research was supposed to help her understand how difficult it was for larger women to fit into their physical environment as well as any positive and negative reactions from those around her. Other than Jake thinking she was a danger to his grandfather and not asking her to visit but hiring her, she couldn’t report any personal negative reaction of other people to her as a woman of size. She must be doing something wrong. Could Dr. Clifton be right and she couldn’t walk in someone’s shoes? No, she did have those sales clerks who refused to help her and there was the matter of the chairs that were too small.
She was on the right path. Size had different meanings depending on the silhouette a person reflected in everyday life. When she was dressed as Robin, she left behind her comfortable world. For the purposes of her research and if because of her project corners of hidden discrimination and prejudices were illuminated and changed, then discomfort was worth experiencing.
Jake fumbled for the receiver. “Jake Proctor.” His heartbeat slowed when the mechanical voice announced his wake-up call. He scrubbed his hand over his face and through his hair. The twisted blankets were evidence of his restless sleep and now it was morning. With the pillows stacked to support his head, in that magic place between dreams and wakefulness, he wished that he had the power of the San healers. The San believed that spirits shot misfortune, sickness, and death at a person with invisible arrows. The healers focused on stopping or removing the arrows while they danced around a fire until they were in a trance. In that state, they healed everyone around the fire. He pictured Frank, Robin, and himself around the flames while the clapping and singing women from the community added power to the healers. What was he thinking? Frank was ready to leave this world, and Robin didn’t appear sick. Perhaps she just had a bad hairstyle and he wasn’t guilty of misappropriating money. His lawyer was investigating the allegations, possibly at this very minute. He stretched. Everything would fall into place.
After listening to the local news and weather, he showered and then stood with a towel around his hips lathering his face for a shave. When the telephone rang again, he jerked and the razor slipped and blood pooled on his chin. Get a grip. Not every phone call is the care home telling you to rush over because his grandfather’s drawing his last breath.
“Morning. You still coming to see me today?”
Jake heard his grandfather’s gravelly voice over top of labored breathing.
“Of course.”
“Good. I feel like company this morning.”
Jake glanced at his watch. “I’ll be there around eleven.”
“Wear your gloves. It’s cold out.”
“Will do.” Jake understood that it didn’t matter that he was thirty-five years old, to Frank he would always be a kid.
Robbie, disguised as Robin, found a parking place across the street from the home. The city’s street decorations of giant snowflakes fastened to the streetlights, wrenched against the fasteners, as if they were asking to be set free to float on the winter wind. While driving the short distance to the Care Manor, she’d argued with herself. Just tell Frank that I’m researching people’s reaction to a woman of size. No, wait until he calls me on it? Am I using a dying man? Do I really want to be a comfort to him? She hadn’t reached any firm conclusion when she tapped on the partially opened door and listened. She heard, “Come in. You’re on the outside.”
“Hi, Frank.” She glanced around the compact room.
Frank’s fragile, decaying body seemed marooned in the brown landscape of the recliner. His wedding band nestled into the skin folds on his finger. Robbie reached for his hand and held his palm in hers.
“You’re a sight for sore eyes.” He attempted a whistle. “Are you all gussied up for me or something special?”
Robbie hung her coat on a hook on the wall. “You first, and then some place special.”
“I’m glad I’m first. You look better than you’ve ever looked.” He pursed his lips and once again attempted a wolf whistle of appreciation.
“Thank you.” She hesitated, her fear of exposure dampened down. “I’m going to my high school reunion and I want to look my best.” Each time she met Frank, she waited for him to call her on her disguise. She wondered if he just accepted her
or if he wanted so much to be reminded of Mabel that he overlooked any disproportion in her appearance.
Frank gripped the arms of the lazy chair.
“No, stay where you are. I’ll sit on the bed,” she said.
“Look behind the door. I had the staff bring in a folding chair since sometimes you and Jake come around at the same time.”
Robbie moved aside the imitation pine garland festooned with red poinsettia bows that stretched from his window to his door, then unfolded the chair and placed it in front of Frank and sat down.
“Don’t mind if I do,” she said.
“Didn’t sleep that well last night.” He scrubbed his thin hand across his forehead.
“Would you like to sit quietly or would you like tell me about your life with Mabel?” She concentrated on his face. She’d half expected his agreement to be ready and quick.
With a sigh, he leaned back. His hands moved along the arms of the chair, trying to settle. “You don’t want to hear about me. My story’s an old one.”
She took a few precious seconds weighing the pros and cons of his response. “I do. I want to know that there’s a chance for me to find the kind of love you and Mabel shared.”
His reaction was slow. “There’s always hope.”
Her hands couldn’t remain still and they bunched the polyester of her wide legged slacks, pleating the azure folds before smoothing out the creases. “If it’s not too much for you, I’d like to hear a bit. I’m going to my high school reunion where the majority of my classmates will be married with children and I don’t even have a boyfriend in the wings. I could use a little moral support.” She hadn’t realized that was what she was seeking until it was out in the open. Rolling onto one hip, she rested her arms on her belly and waited.
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