Woman of Substance

by Bower, Annette

  “Didn’t fall too far from the tree then.” Roger turned his coffee cup up.

  Frank did the same and passed it to Jake. “You use mine. I’m not in the mood for coffee, today. Might keep me up.”

  “That and which pill?” Roger leaned over, providing room for the server.

  A trolley squeaked next to their table and a young woman ladled soup into bowls.

  Jake glanced around. He saw men and women in wheelchairs. Some clients had a staff member beside them spooning food into their open mouths. Others had bibs covering their chests while they used adapted utensils to remain independent. A general hum of conversation, clattering china, bursts of laughter, and behind all of that the ding of call bells and the mumbling intercom.

  On their way back, Frank leaned on Jake for stability more than when they’d walked down. Jake knew he could carry his grandfather back to his room with no effort but he wouldn’t do that to Frank’s pride. “You’re tired.”

  Frank shuffled and held onto the rail. “Time for my pills.”

  The nursing staff moved efficiently while they settled Frank back into his bed with his medication. Jake moved from chair to chair staying out of their way.

  When Frank was snoring gently and his breathing relaxed, Jake kissed his grandfather’s cheek and tucked the blanket under his chin. In that instant, Jake looked forward to becoming a father.

  It was only by memory of the walkway and the tree in the yard that he found Robbie’s house. He was surprised when she answered the door. Robbie had a towel thrown over her shoulder and was dabbing perspiration from her forehead. Flashes of moist skin flickered in his sight line until she wrapped the towel around her like a shawl. His reaction to flashes of a flat abdomen suggested he should turn on his heels and run.

  “I thought you were the pizza delivery man,” she said.

  He showed empty hands. “Sorry.”

  Just then a pizza delivery car parked at the curb. She punched her fist in the air. “Yes.” Then she seemed to get embarrassed. “I’m starved.”

  Jake stood aside while she handed over cash and then closed her eyes and breathed in the spicy pizza aroma. His stomach growled.

  She glanced from him to the large pizza. “Join me? There’s plenty. I order a large pie so I’ll have leftovers.”

  “Are you sure?”

  She twisted her head in the direction of the inside. “Come in. I’m getting cold and so is this pizza.”

  After he’d slipped out of his shoes and coat, he reached for the closet. She jumped in front him and made a grab for his coat.

  “Let me,” she said. “You take the pizza into the kitchen.”

  His football memories snapped to attention and a successful pizza pass was made. While he turned toward the small hallway, hangers clattered. From behind him he heard, “On your left.” Jake stood in a yellow kitchen. He turned to see her lounging in the doorway and shrugged. “Where would you like me to put this?”

  She straightened and shivered. “Just move the vase out of the way. Plates above the sink, flatware in the top drawer. I need a sweater. I’m cooling down,” she said and then she was gone.

  The stairs echoed with each footfall. He enjoyed rummaging through Robbie’s kitchen. He set two placemats with plates and wine glasses. He saw a small but fine wine selection in a rack on her counter.

  When she strolled back into the kitchen, he noticed she had fixed her hair, applied lip gloss, and wore a sweatshirt that slipped and showed a white clavicle and toned shoulder muscles.

  “Good idea,” she said, looking at the wine glasses.

  He held up a bottle of merlot.

  She tore two sheets of paper towels and folded them and placed them on each placemat. “Great choice. My father brings me wine when he travels.”

  After he drew the cork from the bottle, he noticed that she had moved the place setting he’d put across the table to the long side of the rectangle away from him and had poured two tall glasses of ice water.

  When they were seated, she picked up a slice of pizza and took a huge bite and chewed it slowly, humming with delight and then wiped her mouth with satisfaction. “I’m ravenous. I ran five miles on my treadmill while talking with my mother on the phone.”

  “I can tell,” he said.

  She blushed. “Sorry, I should have had a shower. You’re company.”

  “No. I just meant that you’re enjoying your food.” He bit through the layers of cheese, meat, and tangy tomato sauce.

  She lifted her glass. “A toast to pizza,” she said.

  He lifted his glass and smiled at Robbie and wondered at the coincidence that he’d arrived at her doorstep and she’d provided what he needed. “To pizza and serendipity.”

  Her face was relaxed and her eyes mischievous as their glasses touched.

  “Granddad mentioned that you knew Robin,” he said. “I’d like to get in touch with her.” He could use a friend right now. “You seem to know what I need. Are you a clairvoyant?” he asked.

  “I did play with the Ouija board when I was young.” She seemed to like having him here in her kitchen. “Robin lives in the neighborhood. I might have her cell phone number.” She rushed on. “We chat when we see each other out and about. I’ll check after dinner or I can tell her to call you or Frank when I see her.”

  “Thanks, I’d appreciate that,” he said.

  “How’s your grandfather?” She needed to be casual. She wanted him to see her as empathetic as Robin, who shouldn’t be given all the credit for compassion.

  She kept her knife and fork in her hands so she wouldn’t reach over and smooth the furrows from his forehead. “Want to talk about it?”

  He was quiet while all of his concentration seemed to be focused on destroying the small pieces of hard-baked flour and water. “He’s old and he’s dying. If I had a father, I’d be looking forward to my father being a grandfather for my kids.”

  She stopped her wine glass mid-point to her mouth and turned to face him. “You have children?”

  He was piercing a soggy green pepper. “No. I’m speaking of the future. It should be my future right now. I should’ve brought a grandchild home for my grandfather. He was the best father a kid could have.”

  Robbie sipped her wine. “Why haven’t you married, had kids?”

  “Short answer, time,” he said.

  She leaned her elbows on the table and turned toward him. “Long answer?”

  “Family didn’t seem that important. I was an only child and friends were important while I focused on my career. I didn’t think about my grandparents. I thought about them but I just didn’t consider their age. My mother was dead before I knew her, my biological father was never in the picture, so I guess I only thought about myself.” His shoulders straightened against the back of the chair, his chin tipped upward.

  “So you were seduced by fame and adventure. That’s not all bad.” She watched him over her glass.

  He shifted in his chair so he looked directly at her. “You’re laughing at me.”

  She shrugged and bit her lip. “No, I’m not. This is a tough time and the decisions of the past sometimes don’t feel great. But they were right when you made them.”

  She tugged the neck of her sweatshirt, attempting to allow cool air to flow onto to her skin. She exaggerated a sniff at her underarms. “Sorry, I’m earthy right now.”

  He tipped the last of his wine into his mouth. “Do you run often? You were out running last night, too.”

  While she gathered up the plates and refrigerated the leftover pizza, she said, “Whenever I can. My dad says I was born running.”

  Jake brought the wine glasses to the counter. “I run, too. Are there trails you’d recommend?”

  “The city provides a great map. I’ll find i
t before you leave or you could just go on the website.”

  He held up the bottle of wine. “Should we finish this?”

  “Sure. Let’s finish it in the living room. The fire’s probably burned down.” Not that she needed heat. In fact, she wanted to take off her sweatshirt but underneath was only a black sports bra. The hot flash must be a reaction to the wine or it could be exhaustion. It wouldn’t be his long fingers cradling his wine glass. She flexed her toes in her runners recalling the time he knelt before her and slipped her loafers onto her feet.

  She followed him and focused on the back of his head while he led the way into the living room. He placed his glass on the table next to the solitary chair and her glass next to the sofa.

  “Should I put more logs in the fire?” he asked.

  She felt the chill of separation. “Be my guest.” His sweater stretched across his back when he reached and placed logs in the grate.

  Jake deliberately chose the chair. He needed a safe distance from her. He felt an intrinsic comfort with her. Even though his brain comprehended, his feet betrayed him when his toes strayed away from the heat of the fireplace and toward her. He shifted his legs and concentrated on the stem of the glass. “Maybe we can run together when I have more time and you’re no longer a student, perhaps after Christmas.” What was wrong with him? He should be saying Run with me tomorrow. Running wasn’t a date.

  When he saw Robbie’s feet curled under her, appearing relaxed, he realized he would have liked her to curl up on his lap. He crossed his legs at his ankles and swallowed the last bit of wine. She was a master’s student and he was faculty. His position was precarious until the funding matter was resolved and he was cleared. He couldn’t take any chances for himself or Robbie. He wouldn’t let anything happen. He had more control and he would use it.

  Chapter 11

  Robbie watched Jake’s feet shift closer to the fire, further away from her. Everything about his body indicated that he created distance between them. Did she send off vibrations that she wanted to hug him and soothe away his worries? The other night, she was only being empathetic when she invited him home and she wanted to know what happened to Frank, didn’t she? There wasn’t anything between her and Jake, right?

  She watched Jake move another inch away and acknowledged that lies and deceit have to create distance. If she could bring herself to be truthful with him about who she really was, then she could truly be a friend. But her research wasn’t just about her and this man who was in her home. It was also about the women who’d taken the time to answer her survey, the costume designer, Margaret and her love of clothes, Sharon and her fight for a promotion, Mavis and her need for a mortgage to buy her own bakery.

  Robbie reminded herself that this was the same guy who had offered her cab fare when he thought she had taken advantage of an old man in the park and then was paying her good money to sit with his grandfather. This was also the same guy who was cared for and loved by a woman of size. Her relationship with him wasn’t personal. He was her research project because he was close to Frank. She couldn’t reveal anything. She was too close to her pass, her degree, her goal, her future.

  She swallowed to calm her truths surging along her jangled nerves and cleared the word barricade at the back of her throat. “How’s your grandfather tonight?” she asked. The mention of his grandfather reminded her of the limited time she and Jake had with Frank by name and frank by nature. The logs crackled in the fireplace and the disc player changed to the next album. Diana Krall sang Christmas songs in the background. When Jake didn’t respond, she added, “Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”

  His lips remained closed. A loud pop from a log seemed to open something in him and he started talking. “When I first returned home, I thought I could convince him to have treatments for his cancer. But he’d made up his mind. He’s ready to leave and be with the love of his life. He doesn’t want to be kept alive after his spirit is gone. I’m the only one he can count on to make sure death happens as he wishes.” He ran his fingers over his five o’clock shadow. “I’m not sure I have the strength to let him go. I’ve wasted so many years by not being around for him.”

  She wished she knew whether she should invite Jake to sit beside her or if she should move over to his chair. What would happen if she moved to the floor and leaned against his legs? Would he feel the comfort of a friend, place his hand on her head, and talk without her having to ask questions? Or would he continue to stare into the fire? Perhaps talking about good times would make him feel better. “Did you and your grandparents have a good life together?” Jake stared at her for a long moment and then turned to stare back into the fire. “They loved each other and everyone around them. They gave people the benefit of their doubt. I was their gift, they said. Late in their lives when their friends were grandparents they were parents again after my mother died. I was surrounded by an abundance of everything. They saved her life insurance for me and I had the privilege of attending any university that I wanted. I chose to be away.”

  Robbie watched him, waiting for an opportune time to speak. She ached to join him but she didn’t have the right. She was using Frank and Jake as part of her field research, trying to understand the life of a woman of size as a wife and mother.

  A small smile flickered across his lips. “I never thought of my life as abundant before.”

  “What was your life like with a grandmother who was older than your friend’s mothers?”

  “It was tough. The kids used to call her old big butt. I fought in the playground and on the way home. Then my grandparents made me promise not to fight.”

  She could imagine a tousled blond-haired boy, feet apart, fists swinging. “Did you keep that promise?”

  “Most of the time I did. I read a lot. I graduated early. Left home for Ottawa and didn’t come back much. I offered them airplane tickets but they wouldn’t come to visit me.”

  Robbie knew many reasons why they might not have traveled on a plane. Besides a fear of flying, she’d also read case studies and heard about the discrimination toward large people by the airlines, sometimes humiliating them, forcing them to buy an extra seat. “Did you ever ask them why they wouldn’t visit?”

  He made a tent out of his fingers. “No. I assumed they didn’t come because they were old. I was busy studying, being successful, and time just moved so quickly. But lately, I’ve come to understand that Grandma missed me. I was her connection to her daughter, I see that now.”

  “Studying and being successful isn’t always bad.”

  “Yes, it is, if you don’t share it with the people who love you,” he said.

  “I suppose you’re right.” She felt inexperienced in sorting through these deep feelings of grief. “My grandparents were independent until they passed on, and my parents are alive. My life is easy compared to your experiences.”

  “It’s all part of life. I’m glad that I’m here now.” He drained his glass.

  Robbie thought about the feelings the women in her research group expressed about loss of dreams, loss of relationships, opportunities, and their descriptions of anger, bewilderment, and bargaining seemed similar to this grief. All that happened to her was being accused of having no idea of how being fat feels. Were losses of dreams and the loss of life similar? How would she feel if her degree was denied? Jake hadn’t asked her what her thesis was about. Of course he hadn’t. He’s living his grief, while she only researched it and empathized with others’ disappointments and humiliations. Her experiences were miniscule by comparison. And while she’d experienced some pain while wearing her disguise, it was just that, not real life. Was this experiment callous selfishness when compared to losing someone you love? At least listening to him and not judging him might give him some consolation for a short while. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “Marry me?” he asked her abruptly.
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  Her heart slammed against her ribs like a basketball against a backboard. “What?”

  “Sorry, I’m brainstorming out loud. Granddad would like to see me married before he dies. The doctor says he won’t live until Christmas.”

  Was he serious? Robbie glanced toward the fireplace mantle, where the photographs of Robbie in her disguise were tipped out of sight. Did his lips just quiver or was it the firelight reflecting on his skin? If he was asking anyone to marry him, it should be Robin. She had spent more time with both him and Frank, even though accumulated hours of being with someone wasn’t a reason to marry, but Robin did remind Frank of the love of his life.

  Robbie took a deep breath. “From the little you’ve told me about their love, he wouldn’t want you to marry anyone just to make him happy.”

  “I know. I was searching for a quick solution.” His face was red. “I’m sorry. Besides, you’re just starting on your career and then there’s Brad.”

  She could be truthful about her relationship with Brad but she couldn’t break Brad’s confidence. She didn’t want another deception between her and Jake. “Brad and I have been friends for a long time, but we don’t love each other that way.”

  “Grandma always said that the best marriages were between friends.”

  “My parents put forward that theory as well. But believe me, Brad and I will only be friends.”

  He rose and approached the sofa. “It’s time I went back to the hotel.” He put his hands on her shoulders. “Stay where you are. I can let myself out.”

  She jumped as if someone had given her an electric charge. “I’ll get your coat.”

  In the hall, she reached into the closet and grabbed his coat, sending the hanger ricocheting against the wall when she snapped the door closed.

  Jake raised an eyebrow. “Do you have a body in there or something?” As he reached for his coat, their fingers brushed, sending a sliver of heat through her body.