She glanced around at the tiled floor and the corners where years of grunge had accumulated. Actually this might be the best place to be discovered if she had to be. No not the bathroom but this event. The friends would laugh at her pretense. Or at least some of them would, but what about the women who had really gained excess weight or those who were larger throughout high school, would they understand it was part of her research or think it was an insult?
When she reached up to fluff her wig, her sleeves billowed in the mirror. She appeared formidable. She took up space. She looked good. It was time for Robbie to live in the moment.
Robbie moved toward Dr. Clifton’s watchful eyes and prepared herself for any sign of recognition. What she saw instead were Clifton’s eyes sliding right past her without even a slight pause while she gave Jake her undivided attention. Clifton played with her hair, laughed at something Jake said, and put her hand on his sleeve. Robbie felt relief that Dr. Clifton’s attention was focused on Jake. Jake didn’t seem to notice her either. She was just one of the many people milling around the edges of the dance floor.
The emcee’s announcement of a fifteen-minute break before the next entertainment was scheduled came none too soon. Robbie turned away from the dance floor where Dr. Clifton and Jake stood and she meandered toward a group that gathered around a table at the back. Soon her classmates brought up the time the lab caught fire and class was cancelled for a week. Her grade eleven lab partner stood and bowed. Finally, after many years, he could accept credit for the extended holiday.
Robbie scanned the crowd for Jake and Clifton but she couldn’t find them. She relaxed and laughed at more remembered antics.
Jake drove expertly weaving his Mustang around slow-moving traffic, completing the trip in less than twenty minutes, despite the fact that there seemed to be every Sunday driver out on the road on this sunny fall day.
He thought while he carried on a conversation about his research. He enjoyed an attentive presence, so why was he rushing away from Jean instead of responding to her obvious signals?
He stopped next to her building, turned off the ignition, and unclipped his seatbelt. Jean Clifton seemed lost in thought. He opened her door and extended his hand to help her out of the low-slung seat.
She smiled at him. “Time for a drink?”
He checked his watch. “Maybe next time.” He stood still rather than moving back toward the car.
She linked her arm through his while he escorted her to the building.
With her hand on the glass door, she turned. “I enjoyed myself today. You’re an asset to our students and the staff is pleased to have your expertise in our department as well. I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”
“I’ll be there.” Jake kept his voice professional.
When the door swung closed, he slid behind the wheel and accelerated away from the high rise.
While traffic flowed past him and the lights turned green he thought about Jean Clifton. She was a beautiful, intelligent woman. Why didn’t he want to spend more time with her? Could she be attracted to him or did she have other motives? The Jean he remembered was always focused on a goal, whether it was being first in class or the school president, she worked very hard to be successful. She seemed genuinely interested in his research. Where else was he going to meet a future partner if not a colleague? But he also saw what happened when work romances went south. It was never good. But there were some examples of happy couples too. He drove toward Care Manor. He had bigger issues to think about than romance.
Robbie knew the ability to compartmentalize her thoughts was the foundation for her honors status and the opportunity for a small amount of social life. But even though she laughed and added to the memories of teachers and pranks, she was preoccupied. Her thoughts- scurried around two pairs of eyes, one pair whose life was about to end and the other whose life would dramatically change. Both men loved and were loved by a woman who wore dress sizes in the double digits.
Stacy waved a hand in front of Robbie’s eyes. “Hello, are you in there? I’ve been tapping your arm and no response.”
Robbie stared at her arm. Unless the person put pressure behind the poke, she didn’t feel the light taps through the inches of batting. She lifted her eyebrows. “Lost in memories.”
“Wake up. They’re calling the cheerleading squad up to the front. Get up there.” Stacy nudged her chair.
“I don’t have my uniform.”
“So what. You can’t let a little thing like that stop you. Your pantsuit will work out just fine. Let’s see your feet.”
Robbie showed off her bronze loafer.
“You’ll be safe in those shoes. Go on.”
Robbie felt a surge of pride through her veins when Steve and his wife, Jane and her husband, as well as Stacy, stood and cheered when she wove through the tables across the floor and up the stairs. The next thing she heard was Nancy saying, “Move over, Fat Lady coming through.”
Robbie squeezed in beside Nancy, gave a polite smile and said, “I’m fat, but you’re mean.” Robbie performed the first cheer and bent and swayed. She avoided the high jumps and splits, but her voice was strong. The squad members were still building moral at their school, just like the old days.
The crowd clapped and whistled. Nancy glared at Robbie when they trudged off the stage, while a couple of the other woman gave her the ‘thumbs-up’ sign.
Her scalp was wet. Exercising in the body suit was like a steam bath. In the restroom, before the other women exited the stalls, she sponged her face with wet tissues. Her mascara streaked down her cheeks and the wax along her gum line had shifted. She was beyond a quick repair. There was nothing she could do but leave. I know how Cinderella felt. While the participants lined up for the buffet, she gathered her coat and purse and opened the double doors to the outside cool air.
As she drove, she played with the smooth material of her slacks. Why did she have to be stubborn? Familiar landmarks on the highway whirled by as fast as her thoughts were chasing each other. She set the cruise control. She didn’t need a patrol car stopping her in this condition. She should’ve moved her research to another city where no one knew her. She’d been lucky that no one called her on her disguise. Dr. Clifton’s accusation about her need for attention spiraled into her confused and exhausted thoughts. Could that mean that she was more like the Nancy Harris’ of the world than she thought?
Robbie remembered when Sharon, in her usual white v-neck T-shirt and jean Capri pants, gave her a lesson about walking with dignity. They were in the meeting area of the church. The torso had arrived but the leggings were still at the designers. Robbie had arrived disguised in her wig, glasses, contact lenses, and the large body with a blouse and pants.
“Wow, look at you.” Mavis waved, her bangles clanged with the vigorous gesture. “Get over here and let’s have a look.”
Robbie moved forward.
“Stop right there.” Sharon jumped up.
Robbie had looked around sure she was about to step into something unpleasant. “What is it?”
“Are you trying to imitate Frankenstein or something?”
“No. I’m just walking,” Robbie said, miffed.
“You’re moving like you have a rod up your back and your arms are hinged at the shoulders and elbows. Watch me.”
Sharon glided down the aisle and around the tables over the playschool carpet with her chin perpendicular to the floor. Her arms swayed easily at her side. “There. You try it.”
Margaret plucked tissues from her burnt orange purse and wiped tears from her eyes as she called, “Take smaller steps.”
Sharon put her hands on Robbie’s hips and helped her feel the natural shift from hip-to-hip. Soon, Mavis and Margaret had joined them in an impromptu “Bunny Hop Dance.” “Right kick, left kick, hop, hop, hop,” Sharon called.
“How am I going to learn how to be in this disguise? You have had years to learn.” Robbie yanked her wig from her head and scratched her soaked scalp.
“Practice. Practice. Practice.” Sharon blew down the V of her shirt.
Margaret kicked off her burnt orange shoes. “At least you’re trying. You’ll get there. But I don’t know if I’m ready for the conga line dance any time soon.”
“Hey, we can keep practicing and we can enter the talent show as cancan dancers,” Mavis jumped from her chair and began singing the tune and kicking her legs.
“As my tap dance teacher said, ‘If you want to learn anything, set it to music and add some steps and it will stay with you for a long time,’” Sharon said.
Mavis gasped for air. “I know just what you mean, every time I’m in a mall and hear the music from one of my exercise videos, my arms want to fling out to the side or I have a sudden urge to bend and twist.”
Robbie laughed at that memory while she applied the brake and slowed her speed along the merging ramp. I’m okay. Sure I look a little rough right now, but I’ll only get better. Mavis, Margaret, and Sharon believe in me. I can do this.
As she parked on the street in front of her house, all she could think about was a shower washing away the perspiration from her body. The cool air felt delicious on her skin. She waved when the curtain across the street twitched open. Mrs. Mitchell was on front door watch. While her sleeve billowed like a windsock, Robbie was momentarily glad her neighbor’s distant vision was compromised. Oh man, I still haven’t made that phone call to Mrs. Mitchell. As soon as I get in, I have to call Mrs. Mitchell.
The warm air and vanilla aroma greeted her in her entryway. No, I’ll do it after I clean up. Mrs. Mitchell loves to talk.
She hung her coat in the closet and climbed the stairs to her bedroom. She slipped out of her filmy pantsuit and placed it on the chair. She would take it to her drycleaner. When she pulled her arms from the torso, freed her breasts and stomach area and finally her legs, she felt the cool air wash over her skin.
It would be great to take the body suit to the cleaners as well but there wasn’t time. Instead she followed the directions and sponge rinsed the inside of the torso, paying special attention to the armpits and belly. She turned the leggings inside out and ran the sponge with disinfectant over and into every dimple in the fabric. Now it was her turn to clean up. She glanced at the clock. Wow! She needed to hurry if she was going to meet with Margaret, Sharon, and Mavis at Atlantis on time. Robbie’s original plan was to go directly to coffee from the reunion. Instead, she’d used up precious time cleaning the body suit.
Robbie waved at the window just in case Mrs. Mitchell wasn’t enthralled in her TV programs. She adjusted her seat and hoped for green lights down Broad Street.
When Robbie arrived, she found Mavis doctoring her coffee at the coffee bar, Margaret sitting with her back to the door. Sharon waved when she burst through the coffee house doors.
“Oh, I hoped you’d come straight from the reunion. I wanted to see you all dressed up,” Margaret said. “I am just dying to see you in that beautiful pantsuit. Maybe I’ll get one just like it.”
Mavis balanced her cappuccino in one hand and a muffin on a plate in her other. “Give her a chance to talk, will you?” She tucked her hair behind her ears.
“I wanted to, I thought I could, but when I tell you what happened, you’ll understand.” Robbie took her wallet from her purse. “Sorry, I have to eat something. I’ll be right back.” She scanned the display case. “I’ll have a Caesar salad and a tall decaf with room for milk, please.”
After her order came up, she popped a crouton into her mouth and added her milk to her coffee, then chose a plastic fork before she sat in the empty chair at the table. “Thank you for coming out on a Sunday evening.”
“I’m dying to hear how your day went,” Mavis said while she sliced her muffin into slivers.
“Is that all you’re eating?” Sharon pointed at Robbie’s salad, and twisted her braid hanging over her left shoulder. “I could have brought you some fresh sausage rolls. I took them out of the oven just before I came.”
“Thanks, Sharon. I know your pastry is light. This will tide me over until I can make something more substantial. I didn’t stay for the buffet because I discovered that I cannot do strenuous exercise in the suit without looking as if I am melting from the inside out.”
“Exercise, at a high school reunion?” Sharon placed her teabag onto a napkin.
“I was on the cheerleading team all through high school. The message that the squad was performing some of our routines must have been lost in cyberspace because I didn’t get it.”
“So did you watch?” Margaret asked.
“I was prepared to but some of my friends encouraged me to go on stage and do my best. We were the school morale builders after all. It was a blast, but when it was all over, I couldn’t repair my makeup in a high school bathroom. So I ducked out the door without eating.”
“I thought the suit had pockets for cool packs.” Mavis placed one slice of the muffin into her mouth.
“It does, but with my anxiety about possible discovery as well as all the laughter, hugs, and then the routines, they were long past their cooling ability.” Robbie forked a helping of salad into her mouth.
“Mavis, what are you doing? You don’t play with your food, you bake all day.” Sharon swatted stray crumbs onto the floor.
“If you must know, I read about a new study on the Internet today that said that if children eat slowly they have a less chance of becoming obese.”
“You’re not a kid anymore,” Margaret said, stating the obvious.
“I know, but I thought I’d try to savor bites. Anything is worth a try.” Mavis slipped the fork under another piece. The three women watched the slow arc from plate to lips while the rock music played in the background and conversation ebbed and flowed from the other patrons.
After the crumbs dropped into Mavis’ mouth, Margaret broke the spell. “I suppose if you have all day to eat, it could be successful, but when I have a thirty-minute lunch break and have to walk the length of the building to get to the cafeteria and back as well as use the facilities, I’m not so sure a person would have enough strength to finish their shift with a few morsels of muffin.”
“Another part of the study showed that kids who have a choice between playing with friends and eating choose friends. I look forward to our meetings and the topics we discuss.” Mavis reached and held hands with Sharon and Margaret. “I, for one, am glad that I saw your advertisement on Used Regina.”
“Thank you, Mavis.”
“Enough of what the Internet says, let’s have reality. How did the reunion go? Anyone catch on?” Sharon leaned her elbows on the table.
“Yes, one of my friends asked me what was up but when I tried to explain it she wasn’t really interested. She wanted to connect with friends, so it wasn’t an issue. But Dr. Clifton was also there for a few minutes and she didn’t recognize me. So I am pumped about that.” She gave each of the women a big smile. “We did it.”
“Really?” Sharon trudged her chair. “Are you going to tell us that everyone just accepted the changes?”
“Pretty much.” Robbie chewed the inside of her cheek.
“So what else happened?” Mavis reached over and patted Robbie’s hand.
“When I came into the registration area, one of my classmates didn’t hide her surprise but she didn’t come out and ask me anything, just assumed that I wouldn’t be able to join the rest of the cheerleaders on stage and then when I did go up on stage, she said ‘Move over, Fat Lady coming’ or some such thing.”
“Did you give her a hip check?” Sharon gr
owled.
Laughter bounced from the table next to them.
“No, but I wasn’t mature either. I said, ‘I may be fat, but you’re mean.’ Then of course I had to participate in as many of the moves as possible. Sadly exiting as fast as possible was necessary.” She drank a big gulp of cool coffee.
“What about the other women?” Mavis shoved the remainder of her muffin to the center of the table and covered it with a napkin. “Another trick. If I don’t see it, I probably won’t eat it.”
“Good one,” Robbie said, “I’ll have to try it.”
“How did the other women act?” Margaret asked.
“They were fine and gave high fives all around because of course some of us couldn’t talk for a few minutes.” Robbie tapped her fork against her empty salad container. “I know that I had the usual trepidations before I went, wondering if I would be the only one without children or a significant other in my life. But school friends are friends again.”
“What about your experience of being with your old friends in a different body shape?” Margaret pressed on.
“Maybe it’s true about the eyes. I know I overhead concerns about a woman from an earlier class and people were worried about her. Because she was very thin, they assumed an illness. Then there were women who were pregnant and guys who were balding. Yes, there were women and men who looked fine, too, but in a lot of ways we were the same crowd just older and wiser until we slipped back into our high school selves for a few hours.”
“Hmm, I don’t know, I think you had a different experience than we would have had. I don’t think I could have looked at some of my classmates who used to call me frumpy and dumpy,” Margaret said.
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